#sniffles and whines and cries and wails and throws up from crying so hard

[tetriminas]

wife leaving today :(

[uhzuku]

— 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐍! ; 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: not all early arrivals are a good thing. 

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: genshin impact | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tighnari/gn!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 1.80k. 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gn!reader, tighnari in heat, no he/she pronouns for reader but they have a dick, anal creampie, drooling, heat cycles, breeding kink, begging, crying, dacryphilia, pillow humping, bed humping, anal fingering, tail pulling, dacryphilia. 

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

tanned fingers dig into soft bed sheets as tighnari squirms against them. his heat had come early this year, and y/n was away on business — they weren’t even in sumeru anymore, not when what they needed to do involved being on inazuma’s watatsumi island. as a result, he was left alone to suffer, his skin hot and sweaty and his cock hard and aching against his taut stomach. 

“y-y/nnn!” he moans weakly, calling for his absent lover while rolling over to rut against the bed. tears spring up in his eyes along his waterline, threatening to fall as he dryly sobs when he gets no relief from his movements, even with the friction caused by humping the mattress. “y/n, please!”

silence broken only by the sounds of the forest is his only response, and he lets out another short sob as his abdomen tightens up painfully, demanding he be filled in the way his body so desperately craved. he buries his face in the pillows, biting at the fabric while the tears begin to fall, his breathing coming out in heavy gasps. his ass, presented perfectly as he pushed it high in the air with his back arched, sways slightly in place as his thighs tremble. scratching sounds fill the hut as he claws at the sheets, his mouth falling open to release the fabric of his pillow so more whines and cries can come out. he grabs y/n’s pillow and sticks it between his legs, humping it desperately and only letting out a wail when it does nothing to ease the heat and pain in his belly. 

his ears flick back as the door to his hut opens behind him, and his eyes widen in a panic. he was in heat, no one was supposed to know about what happens during this time — the other rangers knew ( because how couldn’t they? ), but no one had seen! no one but y/n was allowed to look down over him and see him in this way. “n-no-!” he gasps, fearful that one of his subordinates would find him this way, but when he turns he discovers nothing but absolute mercy. 

y/n stood in the doorway, their travel bag slung over their shoulder; like tighnari’s heat, they’d come back to him early. 

“y-y/n!” he sobs, twisting around so he can crawl on his hands and knees to them when they toss their bag to the side and take quick strides towards the foot of the bed. “m-missed you, ‘nd i need it — need you!” his voice is shrill and reflects his desperation, and he whines as they gently take one of his ears in one of their hands and rubs it softly. tears roll down his cheeks as he turns his head into their touch, and he sniffles. “please f-fuck me…”

“aw, puppy — did your heat come early?” y/n asks softly, and tighnari nods tearfully. y/n frowns down at him, their brows furrowed; they take off their coat, casting it to the floor without a second thought, and kick off their shoes, stripping themselves of the rest of their clothes as well before climbing on the bed to be with him. 

tighnari throws himself on top of them, grabbing whatever bare flesh he can and pressing his mouth against theirs in a near forceful kiss, whining into y/n’s lips while grinding himself against their thigh. one of his hands bumps against the brass buckle of their belt as they whip it off for him, and his hand continues scrambling around their crotch until it finally comes to a stop on their hardened cock, his fingers curling into a fist around it before jerking it a couple times. his love moans into his mouth, and he whimpers into theirs as they pull him up to sit in their lap with his legs on either side of their hips. 

a sudden shriek falls from his mouth when theirs latches onto one of his already sensitive nipples, sucking hard; his mouth falls open farther in a cry, his thighs trembling, and y/n sticks two of their fingers in his mouth without warning. 

“suck,” they order, their voice a low drawl that sends a shiver up his spine, and he immediately closes his mouth and curls his tongue around the digits, sucking them and coating them in saliva. as he suckles at them, his eyes roll back a little, the very weight of their fingers in his mouth already giving him some relief. 

he whines when they pull them from his hot mouth, a thick strand of saliva connecting them as he chases them with his mouth before they disappear from his sight, bow completely out of reach. he gasps suddenly when he feels y/n’s fingers, wet from when they’d had them in his mouth, press into his empty hole both at once, crooking up to toy with his swollen prostate. 

and then fresh tears begin to fall. 

he didn’t mean to cry, but he just couldn’t help it - the combined feelings of his lover’s  fingers curling up over his prostate while buried all the way to the knuckle in his tight ass, as well as the way they were fisting his cock with an almost cruel grip all while sucking and biting his nipples had him howling, unintended tears springing from his eyes as he cried out for them. “y-y/n! oh please, y/n, fuck me!” 

“that’s it baby, cry for me!” y/n purrs, their other hand holding his hips and pushing then down so he grinds their cocks against one another hard. “come on, ‘nari, give it all to me.” the tears rolled down his cheeks in a constant stream, tighnari absolutely wailing now. 

“i-in — put it in!” he begs, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks, and y/n helps him shakily stand on his knees so they can press their cockhead against his twitching hole. 

“go slow-“ they warn, but tighnari ignores them, instead slamming down to take them in all at once. his eyes bug out, fresh tears bursting from them, and he lets out a shrill scream. y/n is worried at first, and goes to check on their boyfriend, but tighnari just lifts his hips before dropping back down, repeating the action and turning himself into a blubbering mess. 

“oh g-god — oh yes — oh fuck-!” he sobs, his insides confirming to the shape of y/n’s cock in the best way. his hips desperately rutted up into their front as his ass ground down, and he cried from how good it felt. while he does so, y/n starts actively fucking their boyfriend, making him howl with pleasure and his short claws digging so deeply into their back that blood popped up in pinpricks whenever he moved his hands. “y/n, y/n, y/n — please, ‘ve been a g-good boy, i've been so goo-ood-!”

after a long stretch of them fucking him like this, he absolutely melts into their touch as they slowed their brutal thrusts to a slow roll of their hips in order to lick his tears away.  “such a good boy...” y/n murmurs, nuzzling their nose against his cheek. 

loud, high pitched chirps and whines punctuate his moans and sobs, his eyes both crossed and rolled back as y/n bounces him on their thick cock. it’s stretching him out, filling him in all the best ways, and the burn that came with minimal lube has him clenching around the root of y/n’s cock. y/n themself groans lowly, squeezing their eyes closed and letting their head fall back onto the bunch of pillows behind them as tighnari gets more and more desperate. 

“oh archons — oh fuck, ‘m cummin’ ‘m gonna cum!” he pants, eyes wide and wild as his own cum spurts all over his chest; not a full orgasm, no, but he’d get there. “cum in me, fill me up! i want all of your cum in my ass, want you to breed me!” he whines, and y/n lifts their head to look at him again. their eyes are dark, looking almost pitch black as their pupils have swallowed their irises. 

taking him by the hips, y/n rolls them over, pulling out after getting tighnari on his back. the fox hybrid lets out a small but loud cry of discomfort from the loss and sudden emptiness, but y/n is rolling him over in an instant, his cock pinned between the mattress and his taut tummy. when they grab him by the base of his tail and lift him with it so his ass is presented to them, he realizes where they’re going with all the movement, and so he eagerly welcomes the sudden fullness that comes with y/n slamming their cock all the way inside all at once. 

“oh my gods!” he screams, and y/n throws their head back again as they settle back onto their former brutal pace, their balls slapping against his loud enough for an echoing smacking to fill the hut alongside that of their hips hitting his ass. “wan’ it, wan’ it — wan’ your puppies, wan’ all your babies, wan’ a wh-whole litter! please, master, breed me!”

with nothing short of a roar y/n slams themself into him one last time as thick globs of cum shoot from the tip of their cock and start filling his insides. as the sudden, telling warmth fills his guts he lets out a long screech that tapers off into a wailed moan, his own cum splattering against the sheets beneath him as he cums again, this time having an entire orgasm. his entire body spasms against y/n’s, his fingers digging into the sheets and his claws ripping them, as he’s both filled with cum and letting it out. 

a shaky, ragged breath leaves his mouth and he all but collapses against the bed, held up only by y/n’s callused hands. they gently ease him down, carefully pulling out and watching the seemingly endless river of cum that leaves his swollen, abused hole before getting the cup of water he’d put on a nearby table. 

they hold the cup to his lips, cradling his head carefully. “drink, my love,” they murmur, and tighnari does as told, his exhaustion allowing him to do nothing but cooperate. once he’s drank his fill, y/n finishes the rest and refills the glass, putting it back where they’d gotten it before climbing back into bed with him and curling up around him at his back. he’s dozing now, resting between this wave that’s ended and the future one that would be coming in around an hour, and y/n can’t help but smile down at him as he grabs their arm and clings to it, laying his head on it like a pillow. 

they were more than glad they cut their trip short; there was no place they’d rather be. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[emmyrosee]

baby!tsumu who gets jealous when uncle!samu starts bringing by the person hes been seeing :((

STOP THIS WAS ME, I WAS ALWAYS SO JEALOUS OF MY COUSINS GF BECAUSE SHE WAS TAKING HIM FROM ME OMG

lol now we’re besties but N E WAYS-

but she just doesn’t understand what this new person is doing with uncle osamu, why they’re hanging around his shoulders like she used to, or why they get to steal bites from his food like she used to, or what makes them so great that uncle Samu has to replace baby miya with them.

and it’s bad enough she’s had to hang out with another babysitter for a while, because uncle Samu’s just been too busy to watch huff, but all that does is come together in baby miya’s mind that he just… doesn’t love her anymore, and this is his new bestest friend.

she’s honestly so hurt, she starts to throw tantrums and cry when Atsumu drops her off to be babysat by osamu, clinging to his leg and pleading him to not leave her with her uncle, and honestly, neither twin can pinpoint a cause for the change.

It absolutely destroys Osamu, he has no clue what he did or could’ve done to change his niece’s mind, but the way she’s screaming and wailing for Atsumu to stay -not so different from the way she used to scream and wail to stay with Osamu- tears his heart up to utter shreds.

She literally wants nothing to do with him. For the past week and a half, she’s stomping her feet, disobeying him petulantly, and when Atsumu calls to check in, she’s sniffling and mumbling little ‘wanna come home, daddy’’s. When Osamu buckles her into her little car seat and leans in for a kiss to bring her back to his apartment, she whines and turns away, and Osamu is at his breaking point. After a car ride of silence, he needs to know what the hell is going on. She doesn’t want him to hold her, so he settles for holding her hand to get her up the stairs, and when he unlocks the door, she’s trying to make a break away from him.

“Ah, ah, ah, hold on squirt,” he says, and his heart breaks when his refusal to release her hand causes baby miya to whine in distress, but it’s what he needs to do. She can’t stand him right now, and he can’t stand that fact.

He walks them both to the couch, sitting down on the cushions and plopping her down on his thigh. She does, thankfully, rest her head against his chest, and he nearly cries at the affection.

“How come you don’t want to play with me anymore, hm?” He asks, his cheek resting on her head and thick fingers gently playing with her messy hair. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Or if I can fix it… please?” She sniffles and wipes her nose on his shirt, and when her hiccuping cries only get louder, he rocks them both soothingly. “C’mon munchkin,” he encourages, shushing her softly. “You don’t need to cry, don’t be upset...”

“Y-you’ve been m-mean to me,” she wails out, and the signals in his brain cross sharply at her answer. But he tries to keep his cool, though his thick brows furrow at the toddler’s words.

That was absolutely not what he was expecting, and the mere idea makes bile rise in his throat. “I’m… I’m sorry baby, what do you mean?”

Once again, she wipes her nose on his shirt, and Osamu gently kisses her head to comfort her. “Y-You don’t want m-me anymore,” she mumbles sadly. “‘N that’s why you’ve been seein’ that other mean person… ‘cause they’re gonna take you from me…” her tiny fingers curl in the collar of his shirt, “n’ you don’t like me anymore… so I don’t like you anymore.”

And he tries, god he tries so hard to understand what she’s talking about, but finally, with the words and timeline replaying quickly in his head, it clicks- his jaw slacks and he pulls away quickly from the crying child, whose honey-colored eyes are swollen from tears, and nose dribbling with snot.

“Baby,” he says, voice cracking in saddened relief. “Oh god, baby, no,” he tugs her back to his chest, screwing his eyes shut. “That’s not… that’s not what that means. That’s not going to happen-“

“It did happen!” She pouts, trying to get out of her uncle’s hold. “‘N they get my uncle kissies ‘n they get to play with you ‘n I don’t!” There’s betrayal in her eyes, and he can’t believe neither himself nor Atsumu realized sooner.

“And that’s my fault, sweetheart,” he explains, once again trying to soothe her. “And thank you for using your big girl words, okay? Thank you for explaining to me what made you so upset.” At his praise, she stops squirming and wipes her nose with the back of her hand, blinking up at him. “Listen… listen, I’m sorry, okay?” He begins, hooking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t been able to spend as much time with you, and it isn’t fair that I brought another person to play with when you thought it would be just us- especially if you thought it was meant to make you sad on purpose.”

“But,” he continues, wiping a teardrop from her puffy cheeks. “That absolutely, 1000% does not mean that I don’t love you with every itty-bitty part of my heart, okay?” Her bottom lip wobbles again, and Osamu slowly rocks his body once more to try and calm them both down. “Me being a big, dumb-dummy doesn’t mean that I ever stopped loving you more than anything, okay?” He sniffs sharply, which catches the attention of baby miya, whose eyes are now wide as saucers. “And I’m so sorry, pumpkin.. that you thought that… that I didn’t w-want you anymore.” He hates that his voice cracks, and he hates that now, his five year old niece is trying to comfort him.

“Don’t cry uncle!” She whines, tiny arms tossing around his neck and squeezing to the point where Osamu can’t breathe all that easy, but he can’t bring himself to stop her. “‘S okay! Don’t wanna make you cry! ‘M sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry, lovey-girl,” he says shakily, pulling her arms down and having her sit back on his knee. “I’m just sad that I made you feel that way. I’m proud of you for telling me, okay?”

She gives him a weak nod. He nudges her softly. “Do… you wanna meet them? Just the three of us can have a play date one day, if you’d like?” She pauses for a minute before she shakes her head shyly, and Osamu nods as he hugs her close and rests his cheek back on her head to envelope her entire frame against his chest. “That’s okay, lovey-girl, you don’t have to yet… thank you for being honest with me.”

“Mkay,” she mumbles, curling her fingers back into his collar.

“…love you, uncle ‘Samu.”

“I love you more, angel.”

And when Atsumu finally makes his way into Osamu’s house to pick up baby miya, there’s a stillness in the air, and when he goes to search for his brother and daughter, he doesn’t have to look far to find them; on the couch, she’s fallen asleep in her uncle’s warm arms, against his broad chest in an attempt to be as close as possible, her fingers gripping his collar, and an episode of paw patrol playing softly in the background. Osamu’s big hands gently pat her bottom and cradle her to him, and he does nothing but blink up at Atsumu with sleepy, yet joyful, eyes.

“So… this is a 180 from the past few days,” Atsumu chuckles, reaching out for his child to be passed to him.

“Just… give me one more minute with her,” osamu hums, nuzzling his nose into her hair and pressing some soft kisses to her scalp, his own eyes closing in contentment. Atsumu rolls his eyes, “great, now I gotta deal with this again-“

But Osamu can’t even care for his brothers jokes; not when his bestest friend in the whole world is curled against his chest and sleeping soundly, like he’s needed for days now.

[scaramouche-bully]

THAT POST ABOUT OVERSTIM MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I WANT TO DESTROY CHILDE HELP. CAN U WRITE SMTH WHERE HIS S/O USUALLY BOTTOMS BUT WANTS TO TRY TOPPING HIM AND HE JUST KEEPS TRYING TO FLUSTER HER AND TEASE HER AND SHE GETS SO ANNOYED THAT SHE JUST FUCKS HIM STUPID 💕💕

— ☆ Wrecking T*rtaglia headcanons

Includes: Childe

[ Top ] Female reader

Contains: Overstimulation, bratty sub, mind break, sub space, aphrodisiacs, anal gaping, dacryphilia, degradation, size kink, slapping, choking, cock-stepping, humiliation, rough sex, stomach bulge, multiple orgasms, masochism + sadism.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  

— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe 🐑 [ GN ]

[ masterlist ]

Welcome to the "Bully T*rtaglia" club, we are currently taking applications (u‿ฺu✿ฺ). My original draft was sweet but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. So I'm going to channel all my anger into destroying this man (consensually, I promise the ending is soft.).

— ☆ Childe

When you bring up the idea of you topping him, he doesn't take you seriously but he's open to it. While he thinks it's cute that you want to try new things, he's so much bigger than you, and being on top is actually a lot of work compared to being a pillow princess. Are you sure you can handle it?

One of the big issues that came up during your first times was Childe's competitive nature and how fast his recovery time was. He could have came three times and then suddenly flip you on your back and fuck your brains out instead.

Even when he had the patience to be the sub, he would constantly taunt you and be an insufferable brat. Constantly disrespecting you and trying to fluster you. Always reaching down to finger fuck you even when he was stuffed full.

So the next time you brought him a drink, you decided to add something extra. Sitting patiently as he thanked you and downed the entire cup. It only took a few minutes before he began to squirm in his seat.

Childe's face was slowly growing redder and redder, soft pants breaking through the quiet office, his eyes darting to you before settling on the ground. It was amusing seeing him be so quiet rather than running his mouth off every minute. It's only when you start to walk over him in feign concern does he break out of his haze.

Stumbling over himself as he makes wild hand gestures to stop you but as soon as you round his desk, you see his cock straining against his pants, and the embarrassment flood Childe's face. Trying to laugh it off, you're just so pretty he can't help himself, but he's quickly cut off when you prop yourself up onto his desk and step on his cock.

"W-Wait-" Childe groans as his hips buck into your shoe as he grinds against it. Clutching the hand rests of his chair as he leans his head against your knee, soft keens slipping out as you run your fingers through his matted hair as he humps against you. He makes a confused noise when you suddenly tip his chin up, smile sweetly at him, before he's sprawled on the ground as you slap him.

"When did I say you could touch me?" you shot him a cruel look that sent shudders up his spine but also made his cock throb. Whatever you fed him was slowly making him lose his senses until there was just you, you, you. He whines, still on his back, when you take a seat in his chair and dig your shoe onto his dick, randomly applying pressure here and there, his pre-cum wetting his pants as he yelps at the pain. His hands flying up to lift your foot away but he catches himself as chooses to claw his fingers into the wooden flooring instead as he reaches his peak. It's so empowering seeing the man who used to fuck you stupid, whimper and cry as he cums in his pants just from you stepping on his dick.

"P-Please...ah! mm...wha?" Childe looks down confused to see that even after just orgasming, his cock is still hard. His body is so hot that if he doesn't cum again, he feels like he's going to die. He's tries to lift himself onto his elbows and unbutton his pants before you kick him in the chest and send him back down. He's disorientated from the fall when he feels you sit on his chest, cupping his face in your hands to lift him, before slamming his head down. You're almost ripping his hair out with every yank and slap you abuse him with as he yelps like a dog.

"You filthy whore. Did I say you could cum? You ungrateful brat," you spit out as Childe wails in pain, almost knocking you off when he seizes up and shakes. You don't even need to check to know he came again, "Maybe I should gag you and throw you onto the streets. Let everyone here know how much of a pig you are. Is that it what you want?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" his voice is choked up from his tears as he cries over himself. You almost feel bad but he's basically useless in this state, sniffling over himself as he apologizes over and over again. You softly coo at him as you lean over and kiss him sweetly, taking his arms and placing them on your waist as he grips onto you like a lifeline.

"There there Childe. It's alright now, we're going to teach you how to be a good boy. That's what you want right?" you whisper to him as he nods. You pull yourself up even as he grips onto your clothing to stay with him as you unclasp the buttons of his pants and free his cock. Still red and hard in your hands as if he hadn't already orgasmed twice in the span of a few minutes. He's already so wet with pre-come that you don't even need to find lube to jack him off. Ignoring his moans and screams to stop, he's still sensitive, you take him to the hilt in your mouth. Quickly pinning his hips from jerking upwards and choking you, you're the image of content as you swallow around his cock as Childe throws his head back and sobs as he cums down your throat.

“Pl-please, please, mmn- put it in me, please…” he manages to pant you, his mind melted as his eyes blink in and out of consciousness. His body is still burning hot and he can't escape the feeling of being empty. He wants to be filled with your cock, stuffed fill until he can't live without being fucked by you. You've completely ruined him.

"It seems we still have a long way to go. You really are a disappointment Childe," you sigh as you wipe away the stray cum dripping from your mouth as you reach over and feed it to him. He whines low in the throat at tasteing himself but feeling you touch him in some way is the only thing grounding him before you pull away and stand up, "Go on. Finger yourself open for me."

"W-Wha?"

"Childe. I said. Finger yourself open. I won't repeat myself again."

He quickly nods, not ready to disobey you again, as he lifts himself up to get his pants fully off. He knows what you want and it makes the fire in him burn hotter. Using his own pre-come with shaky hands, he reaches over to hold his legs up for you, and circles around his rim before dipping inside. The embarrassment of holding himself open like this and your watchful gaze almost has him cumming again but he can't. He wants to be good. He does his best to spread himself open at this awkward angle but he soon loses himself. He should feel ashamed for getting off on someone watching him but it makes him finger himself deeper and harder. He's taken out of his pleasurable moment when he feels your hand join his. Taking one hand as you spread his ass to see his loose hole. The pre-cum from his cock slowly leaking down. You're absentmindedly lacing your fingers inside him, before pulling both your hands out as you line your strap on to his rim. He didn't even notice you put it on.

"Did you know I had to fake every orgasm because you were such a sloppy fuck? Perhaps I should show you how to fuck someone properly," is the only warning he gets before you grip his hips until your fingernails draw blood, before slamming into him. He throws his head back and chokes on his screams as his cock shoots cum all over his chest.

"Who said you could come?" you spit out as you grip his cock and squeeze harshly as he screams. The overstimulation is too much, it hurts. He's desperately trying to push you away but whatever strength he built is lost. Only able to lay there and take it. He looks down to see his stomach bulge with every thrust you make, the image of you rearranging his insides sends him flying as he tries to cum again but the death grip you have on him, he just can't. He's full-on sobbing as you continue to abuse his prostate, he's going to break, you're breaking him.

"nO! P-PLEASE! STO-" he begging as you continue to pound into him. You push even further, until your cock fully inside him now, and stay there rubbing right up against his prostate. Watching amused as Childe tries to shudder to the large intrusion, the never-ending pressure on his sensitive spots makes him almost feral. You swear he has hearts in his eyes right now.

"Pleasepleaseplease-"

You pull out slowly, just until the tip is inside him, before gripping his wrists as leverage and ruthless slamming into him. Childe parts his hips in a voiceless cry as you finally break his mind and fuck him dumb. He scrambles against the floor as he tries to find anything to ground him, trying to fuck himself back on your cock as he drools all over the floor. His vision leaves him as all his senses focused on the harsh drag of your cock in him, the wet slapping noise that fills the room, and the tears that slip from his eyes down to the floor. His cock throbs with each thrust you force into his body, thighs jerking, as his tongue lolls out.

"Oh!--mh, m-more!" Childe babbles deliriously, he's being reduced to nothing but a warm hole for you to fill whenever you feel like it. Reduced from a harbinger to a whore for you to use. He feels the breath get punched out of his lungs as his abdomen stretches and burns. His hole clenching around your dick that you have to forcefully yank him down to stuff him, "Hahh, you're tearing me o-open."

"You disgusting whore. Can you feel it?" you mock as you take one hand to spread his ass apart, you see his hole is red and puffy, pre-cum from his semi-hard cock leaking down where you're both connected. He shudders that you've fucked him so bad that his hole is gaping. It's when you reach over and clasp both of your hands around his neck and squeeze that he comes crashing down. Wheezing at the lack of oxygen that makes him see white, he feels so warm and content, mind filled with bliss, as he cums. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into him as his cock finally softens as he relaxes and drifts off into space before slowly losing consciousness.

--- You slowly blink awake to soft kisses being placed on your neck, Childe's lazy form cuddled up to you as you stroke his hair. He's always so clingy the morning after. "Are you feeling alright? I was a bit mean wasn't I?" you ask a bit embarrassed as memories of last night flood your mind. You know you both agreed on what your limits were but you couldn't help but feel a bit worried you may have pushed him too far. Childe props himself on his elbow to smile dumbly at you, you were perfect.

"It was alright I suppose," he chuckles when you lightly punch him in the chest, "I didn't think you would try and drug me like that. You know I could get you arrested for that. " "Ha! Good luck finding someone that will fulfill your perverted fantasies. Besides you're the one that wanted to experiment with them and don't phrase it like that either," you shake your head at him before leaning up to kiss him. When you pull away you take notice of all the bruises and marks you left on him. There's a small part of you that purrs at the claim you made but you quickly shoo it away. It's too early for that. If your back is hurting you have no idea how Childe is faring. "Here, let me get you some water and let me see your head," you offer, pulling yourself up before Childe's arm wraps around you and pulls you down to lay beside him. Placing his weight on top of you so you can't squirm away, even as you swat at his back he smothers you until you give up.

"Stay with me."

"Hah...alright. Just for a bit."

[elysianslove]

so after reading the sub megumi x yuuji x reader drabble i cant help but think about how megumi def is a switch and he kinda comes to a lil and realizes whats going on and flips the table on the reader and yuuji and yeah.... imma just sit in this corner😁

omg pls i love switch dynamics so much😭😩

pls megumi is SUCH a switch. i just know he’d able to dominate and control both you and yuuji so easily, you’ll be cowering beneath his gaze and obeying everything. ugh anyways here’s a drabble bc im weak for this dynamic and everything about it 

trigger warnings; d/s dynamics, choking, sex toys, orgasm denial, threesome stuff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes lol

“you think this shit is funny?” 

funny isn’t the adjective you’d use to describe you and yuuji’s situation at the moment, or megumi’s state either, but if it’s the word that will make megumi’s words bite harsher, sting deeper, then you’re tempted. awfully so. 

you’re on your knees, the hard wood of the floor digging into your skin painfully. you’re already feeling humiliated enough as is, body naked and trembling in the cold of the room, goosebumps riddling your breasts and nipples perky and hard, that you can’t find it in you to complain. 

similarly, yuuji sits to your left on his knees, but his state is much worse than yours. he’s been reduced to tears, sniffling and chest heaving as his lungs race to catch a steady breath. his thighs and abs are spasming, and his entire body is endlessly shivering. his chest, along with his neck and face, is flushed red, and you don’t blame him, not with what he’s been enduring. yuuji’s lower lip trembles and quivers, and he nearly doubles over as a buzzing fills the room. his hands are bound behind his back tightly, so much that you can see his arms bulge and strain as he pulls and struggles lightly. the buzzing increases in speed and volume, and in response, yuuji throws his head back, wailing loudly, his back arching as he pushes himself up on his knees. 

you watch, entranced, as yuuji’s cock bobs desperately, thick and leaking pathetically. from above you, where he sits on the bed right across from you, megumi tuts, and spreads his legs wider. you can see the bulge straining against the navy blue formal trousers, his cock borderline twitching at the sight of you, on your knees so obedient, and yuuji, so desperate for him.

“yuuji, settle down,” megumi dismisses, as if bored and exasperated. 

yuuji howls, sniffing loudly as he forces himself on his knees. “can’t,” he cries. “please, fuck, let me cum. please, please, megumi, please.” 

megumi cocks his head to the side, as if barely sparing either of you any thought, and his deadpan, unimpressed expression makes you clench your thighs, embarrassed to feel the slick coating them. finally, after a few moments of yuuji’s broken moaning, megumi sighs, and turns to you. “sit on his cock,” he instructs, and you don’t even think twice before you’re scrambling up and crawling towards yuuji. he turns to yuuji next, and adds, “cum before she does and i won’t be so nice.” 

yuuji’s whimper dissolves into a small whine and sob, but he still nods helplessly, he still lowers himself onto his ass, spreading his legs to allow you to sit more comfortably on his lap. the vibrator inside him shifts, but it’s buzzing has been reduced significantly, mercifully, thankfully, so much that when you quickly rush to sink down on him, he’s able to bite down a whimper. 

your slippery cunt barely brushes against the flushed head of his cock when a large hand slips into your hair, twisting and knotting and gripping it so harshly and pulling you back that your head tilts back, forcing you to face up. you’re met with megumi’s glare, a disappointed grimace on his lips. 

“don’t hurt yourself, stupid slut,” he warns, releasing your hair a little so that your head tilts forward again. his fingers remain in your hair though, and beneath you, yuuji looks at the both of you with stars in his eyes. “you’re this hungry for cock?” he sighs, but the soothing pat of his hand against your head as you slowly grind your cunt along the tip of yuuji’s cock is praise enough. “slow, slow— slow.”

you do as he says, head falling back to glance at him as yuuji’s cock finds your entrance, nodding and whimpering while you sink down as slow as you can manage. megumi maintains eye contact with you, gaze only faltering to glance at yuuji and between you where your cunt is swallowing the pink haired boy’s cock. bit by bit, yuuji fills you up, and god it’s such a stretch. you can tell you’re too tight, by the way you’re endlessly spasming and clenching around the thick cock, by the way yuuji’s hips barely, just barely, lift up, by the way his muscles strain and tense. 

while you loved the harsh treatment megumi provides you, the mean tugs and the humiliating words and the stinging slaps, yuuji thrived off of praise. the threat from earlier rings loud and clear in his ears, and it takes his all not to cum the moment you sit all pretty and full on his lap. 

and it all shatters when megumi’s other hand reaches over around you, grasping at your throat and squeezing so tightly that you moan terribly loud and clench down awfully around yuuji. it’s so unexpected and sudden that yuuji is given not one second to process anything before his eyes are rolling back and he’s spilling inside of your tight cunt. it’s sudden for you too, the feel of him coating your inner walls so sloppily, and you gasp. 

megumi’s hand tightens around your throat angrily as cum spills down yuuji’s cock, oozes from your cunt and drips onto his lap. 

“you never learn do you?” 

yuuji’s still trembling from the aftershocks, sighing and delirious, his eyelids fluttering and soft moans tumbling from his lips. you feel your clit throb— god, you might cum just as simply too. 

at yuuji’s unresponsive state, megumi snarls, pushing your head back again and ordering you, “use his cock; i don’t care if it’s soft. make yourself cum.” 

his words send yuuji in a frenzy, and the latter sits up straighter again, his eyes widening. “wait!” 

but you’ve already starting moving. 

“fuck— fuck, m’sensitive— fuck!” 

megumi’s lightly praising you, ignoring yuuji’s cries and begging, as you ride yuuji’s half hard cock, bouncing on his lap eagerly. 

“can i—” your voice cracks as you feel your body tense up and your limbs start to lock. “can i touch myself— pleasepleaseplease.” 

yuuji’s loudly crying now, noisily wailing and sobbing as you use him, watching with hazy eyes as you ride him. “so, so pretty,” he mumbles in a low voice, breath catching in his throat as you meet his eyes. 

megumi’s voice is shockingly and unexpectedly close as he whispers, “yeah, go on, touch yourself.” 

as your hand quickly lowers to between your thighs, yuuji’s mouth falls agape, and his hands tighten into fists. the pain from his sensitivity is bleeding into pleasure, especially with how sloppy and tight your cunt is around him, wet from your arousal and his cum from his previous orgasm. as you rub at your clit, furiously and messily, yuuji’s hips start to rise to meet yours, while megumi’s hands lower to your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples. 

your eyes cross as you babble, “gonna cum— please, can i cum? can i cum— ugh— fuck,” and megumi’s lean fingers pinch harder. 

“what do you think, yu?” he wonders lazily, casting a glance at yuuji. the pink haired boy stares up at him dumbfounded, his eyes falling to you momentarily, pained and desperate, before they fly back up to meet megumi’s again. “think she should cum?” 

yuuji’s nods are slow and careful, and he hears you sigh and sag a little in relief while megumi hums in amusement, before the latter twists his head towards you, and whispers, “well, go on then.” 

as if you’ve been trained for years on this, the band within you snaps upon his command, and your legs shake helplessly on yuuji’s lap, your tits bouncing as your body shakes. around yuuji’s cock, your cunt spams and creams, and above him, your eyes roll back and your mouth parts, your back arching. megumi’s voice is distant, as is yuuji’s whimpering, and it’s only when megumi’s lifting you up from yuuji’s lap as if you were merely a rag doll do you realize yuuji’s cock had hardened fully. 

you’re tossed on the bed, but not in the direction you’ve expected, with your head near the edge instead of the pillows. still recovering from your strong orgasm, you don’t properly process what’s happening until you see the two boys on either side of you, and until you hear megumi say in warning, “you cum last,” before you feel his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt, and yuuji’s sloppy and cum covered cock brush against your lips. 

holy shit is tonight going to be long. 

end note; okay i actually don’t know if that’s good or not but i hope it’s as good as it seems in my head hvwjsjdhw and i hope y’all enjoyed 😼

[thebadgerclan]

Can’t Hurt You Here

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader (Golden Era)

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: He doesn’t quite believe it yet, but nothing can hurt him here...

The library of Grimmauld place was oddly cozy at night; the only light in the cavernous room was the candle at your side, a book open on your lap, a fuzzy blanket around your shoulders.  It was late, but you weren’t tired.  It had been a long day, getting Sirius settled, arranging security from the Order for him, and making sure he felt safe.  He didn’t, not yet, but that would come with time, when Azkaban wasn’t so fresh in his mind.

But the peace of the night was shattered when Sirius began screaming, voice carrying through the halls.  You were on your feet at once, book tossed to the floor, blanket abandoned.  You held your wand before you, ready to hex and intruder into next month if need be.  “No!” Sirius shouted, voice anguished and frightened.  “Please, no!  No, leave me alone!  NO!”  You threw open the door to the bedroom, eyes landing on your lover immediately.  He was thrashing around on the mattress, sheets tangled in his legs, sweat covering his skin, brows knit together.  

“Sirius,” you said, setting your wand on the nightstand, kneeling beside him on the bed.  “Sirius, wake up, love.  You’re alright.  Wake up for me, baby.”  Gently, you reached out and shook his shoulder, feeling how tense his muscles were.  “Sirius, wake up!”  He shot upright with a cry of “No!”, shaking like a tree in a storm, eyes darting around the room frantically.  “Sirius,” you said, cupping his face, making him look at you.  “You’re safe, Sirius.  You’re home, you’re at Grimmauld place.  Nothing can hurt you here.”

“Y/N?” he stammered your name out, not believing you were really here and that he was really home.  “Yes, love.  I’m here, it’s Y/N.  You’re safe, baby, I’ve got you.”  He surged forward, throwing himself into your arms, sobbing into your chest.  You held him tight against you, rubbing his back, a hand running through his hair.  “Shhh,” you soothed.  “I’m here, I’m right here.  Let it out, honey.  I’ve got you, that’s it.”  Sirius’ wailing cries broke your heart, but you simply continued to hold him, knowing he needed you close right now.

After a moment, you shifted so you were lying down, Sirius still held tight in your arms.  He burrowed deep into your chest, face pressed into your neck, arms wound around your middle.  “I’ve got you,” you reiterated.  “You’re safe, Sirius, you’re home.  I’m right here, baby, I love you so much.”  He sniffled, nodding in response.  “Do you want to tell me what the nightmare was about?”  You didn’t need to ask, you knew exactly what haunted his dreams.

Sirius’ response was only one word: “Dementors.”  He shuddered as he said it, the motion felt in his bones, and you pressed a kiss to his head.  “I’m sorry, baby.  But you’re safe now, they can’t hurt you here.  They’ll never hurt you again.”  Sirius nuzzled closer, whining softly.  “I promise, Sirius, they can’t hurt you here, no one can.”  “I’m just so afraid they’ll find me.”  You frowned, coaxing his face from your neck, looking into his eyes.  

“I promise you that we won’t let that happen, Sirius.  The Order is doing everything to protect you and keep you safe.  I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re safe now, love.”  Sirius was silent, taking in your words.  But he nodded, cuddling back into your chest.  “I know.  I just… can’t believe this is real.”  You kissed his forehead, holding him a bit tighter.  “I know.  But it is, Sirius.”  You were silent for a moment, simply rubbing Sirius’ back.  “Do you think you can sleep again?”  He shrugged.  “I can try.”  “That’s all I ask, baby.  I love you so much, Sirius.”  “I love you too.”  Sirius inhaled deeply, and you felt his muscles relax as he nodded off.  He knew it would take time, but he knew that nothing can hurt him here, not when he was home.

[honey-lemon-teashop]

If you're doing the prompts, 36, 102, and 268 with Simeon please 🤲

Okie, so. A few things.

1) I’ve never actually answered an ask on Tumblr, so if the format is off, I AM SO SORRY.

2) I used the prompts, however, I reworded them to fit my writing style, and also make the story flow better. Hope that’s okay!

3) I did make a reference with the safeword. Kudos to you if you know what it’s from!

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The prompts were

- “Don’t be gentle.”

- “You deserve a reward for being so good today, what would you like it to be?”

- “Even angels can be bad.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

You were impressed.

Just before school started, you slipped a buttplug into Simeon, and proceeded to spend the entire day flicking through the different intensities.

You’ve been with Simeon for a little over 6 months, and the longer you were together, the more comfortable he got. And the more comfortable Simeon was, the more vocal he became.

So you were shocked when he was able to keep his whimpers and whines at bay.

Well, expect for when Luke was having him try his new scone recipe, and you turned the vibrator to the highest setting, and he let out a loud moan.

Luckily, he was able to blame it on how ‘heavenly’, the scones tasted, so nothing really became of it.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

As soon as classes ended, you practically dragged Simeon to your room in the House of Lamentation.

Pinning him against the door, you grabbed his waist, before leaning in.

“You did so well today, Baby Boy. I think you deserve a reward, no?” you cooed, nipping at his earlobe.

You could feel him nodding rapidly.

“Well, Baby, what do you want your reward to be?”

Simeon responded by mumbling something into your shoulder.

“Gonna have to speak up, Angel. Mommy can’t hear you when you mumble.”

He lifted his head, before repeating what he said.

“I was hoping that maybe we could try out the new outfit you bought me?”

“The maid outfit? With the cat ears?”

Shaking his head, Simeon sighed, before quietly muttering, “Schoolgirl one.”

“Ohhhh.” You said. You had bought two outfits off of Akuzon as part of your 6-month anniversary present. You were both so busy cramming for midterms, that you hadn’t had the chance to use them yet.

“Of course we can. Wanna go grab that from your room while I get things ready in here?”

“Yes, please.”

“Always so polite, Baby.” You said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, before moving towards your bed.

“Anything for you, Mommy.” Said Simeon, blushing.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

10 minutes had passed, and you only had a few minor things to adjust. The only thing missing was Simeon.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

Speak of the devil. Or, well. Angel, I suppose.

“Come in, Love!”

You could hear quiet shuffling, and the crinkling of a bag, before it went silent.

Turning around, you looked at your boyfriend.

“You wanna go to the bathroom to get changed? I’m just about finished here.”

“Okay.” He said, taking a few steps, before stopping to look at you. “What’s the scene gonna be?”

Pausing, you thought for a minute.

“How about… I’m your professor, and kept you behind because you’re failing my class?”

A small smile spread across Simeon’s face.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Safeword?” You asked.

“Pineapple juice.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled… Go!!” You giggled, pushing him into your bathroom. “I wanna see you in that outfit already!!”

You shut the door, before yelling, “Scene starts when you leave the bathroom, Dollface!”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

A few minutes later, and a bashful Simeon peeked his head around the door.

“Start?” You reaffirmed.

A thumbs up from Simeon, and you were set.

“Well? Aren’t you going to come in?”

His eyes widened a bit. Glancing down at his outfit, he slowly inched his way into the room.

“Today please, Mr. Simeon.” You said, inspecting your nails.

At your words, Simeon moved forward until he stood directly in front of you.

“Do you know why I called you here, Mr. Simeon?”

Simeon gulped, looking at his feet.

“Yes.”

Reaching out and grabbing his chin, you forced him to meet your gaze.

“Yes, Ma’am.” you said.

“Yes… Yes Ma’am.” He stuttered.

“And why did I call you here?”

“Because… Because I’m failing your class…”

“Correct, Mr. Simeon. I’ve looked over your grades, and after that last exam, I’m afraid I am unable to let you pass.”

“But Ma’am!” Simeon cried, “I need to pass! I can’t fail! Oh, please Ma’am, isn’t there any way I can make it up?”

You raked your eyes over him.

God, you really did a nice job picking out his outfit. A red headband, complete with a bow, sat atop his head. A classic white button up, tied like a bra around his chest, leaving his gorgeous stomach on display. A sleek red tie, done messily around his neck. And riding low on his hips was a skirt. Well, calling it a skirt was giving it a bit too much credit, considering it was barely a scrap of fabric, but it still looked stunning nonetheless. And last but not least- thick, white, thigh-high socks, and a pair of black Mary Janes covering his feet.

It seemed he had also done his makeup at some point- eyeliner and black eyeshadow, paired with a bright red lipstick.

Fuck, how you wanted to ruin him.

Simeon shifted anxiously, clearly waiting for a response.

You slowly stood up, grabbing his waist.

“There is one way…”

“I’ll do it! Thank you, Ma’am! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” You murmured, gazing steadily into his eyes.

“...Ma’am?” Simeon answered timidly, eyes wide.

You pulled his body flush against yours. A quiet gasp rewarded you for your actions, before you swallowed it with your mouth.

Slowly tracing his lips with your tongue, you squeezed his ass. His mouth opened in a moan, giving you the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth. Gently cupping his jaw, you continued kissing him, before finally parting for air.

Simeon was panting, looking up at you, eyes heavily lidded. You could see a few smudges of lipstick in the area around his lips, making you chuckle.

You pulled away to sit on the bed, making him whine.

“You answered 20 questions incorrect on your last exam, Mr. Simeon. You know this sort of thing can’t go without punishment.”

“But Ma’am, I-”

“No buts. I want you over my knee. Now.”

Simeon seemed to hesitate, before slowly laying himself over your lap.

Grabbing the ruler from the bedside table, you spoke.

“Mr. Simeon, you will be receiving 20 strokes; one for each problem you missed. I want you to count them aloud. If you mess up counting in any way, we’ll start over. Am I clear?”

“...Yes Ma’am.” Simeon muttered.

You grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it until your eyes met his.

“Louder, Mr. Simeon. I can’t hear you.”

You felt his cock twitch where it rested on your thigh, making you smirk.

“Yes Ma’am!” He said loudly, all the while maintaining eye contact.

“Good.” You said, throwing his head back down. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Using the ruler, you flipped his skirt up, revealing his ass.

“Oh?” You said. “What’s this?”

Tracing your fingers along the seam, you admired the white lace thong he wore.

“God, what a slut. It’s like you wanted me to punish you.”

Simeon moaned and wiggled his ass in response.

You ran your palm over him a few more times, before switching back to the ruler.

Bringing your arm back, you let the ruler fall onto his right cheek. Hard.

“Ahh!” Simeon squeaked, jolting forwards on your lap, thighs pressed tightly together.

You waited a moment, before grabbing his hair again.

“What did I just fucking tell you, you useless fucking whore?” You seethed.

You could see Simeon running through his memories, trying to find what he did wrong. It was another moment, before horrified realization flashed across his face.

“...You told me to count,” he said, avoiding your gaze.

“Correct. I didn’t think we would be starting over this soon. After all, aren’t angels supposed to be good at taking directions?”

“I…” He said, looking around wildly.

“I guess angels can be bad, too, huh?”

Simeon only whimpered in response.

You went to strike him again, but paused before you swung.

“Remember to count this time, Mr. Simeon.”

And with that, the ruler went flying down onto his left cheek.

“One!” Simeon said, before he peeked up at you.

“You don’t have to be gentle, you know.” He began. “I can take it.”

“Oh really?” You said with a laugh. “You’ll regret saying that, Mr. Simeon.”

You swung again, and again, and again.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“Thirteen, foURTEEN, FIFTEEN!” Simeon squealed, as you landed three harsh slaps in rapid succession.

Running the ruler over the marks, you spoke.

“Only a few more to go, Mr. Simeon, and then you’ll be done.”

Sighing in relief, Simeon let his head hang briefly.

Your next hit was hard- the hardest yet- and it landed directly on the skin where his ass met his thighs.

“SEVENTEEN!” He cried, biting his lip.

“God, what a dumb little angel you are, Mr. Simeon.” You tutted.

Simeon’s eyes flew open, and his head whipped around to face you. He looked at you in confusion.

“What number comes after fifteen, Mr. Simeon?”

He let out a gasp, before frantically trying to explain.

“Ma’am, it’s. I-”

“You knew the rules, Mr. Simeon. Again. From one.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“NINETEEN!”

Simeon was wrecked. Absolutely fucking wrecked.

His ass was a dark red, and covered in welts. His face was pink and blotchy from crying. Eyeliner ran down his cheeks in messy streaks, and there was a huge smear of lipstick on the left side of his face. He was ruined.

But despite everything, his cock laid hot and heavy against your thigh.

Your last hit was a bit lighter than the previous ones, but you made sure to clip his balls in the spank.

“SHIT! OH FUCK. TWENTY. TWENTY TWENTY TWENTY.” he wailed, before cumming all over your lap.

You laughed, grabbing a handful of his ass.

“Did you really just cum from getting spanked?” you said. “You must’ve wanted this pretty damn bad, then.”

You hoisted Simeon up, until he sat straddling your lap. Tilting his chin up, you continued.

“You may have passed the test, but you still have a number of outstanding assignments. And not to mention your horrible attendance.”

He sniffled.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Well,” you began, “you can start by sucking my strap.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Simeon knew he was in for a long night.

[crossdressingdeath]

Twin Treasures Chapter 1, v. 1

AN: So, the great editing spree has begun. Chapter one is finished, you can read the edited version of this chapter here, but everyone who commented on it wanted me to move the original versions over to Tumblr when I changed them so... here we are, I suppose. Chapter one, old version!

Yiling is small and loud and filthy, and Jin Rong doesn’t know why his mother brought him here.

“Experience,” she says when he asks, and, “You cannot work with the other sects if you don’t know what they face,” which he doesn’t think is a proper answer.

“Father wouldn’t bring me here,” he grumbles, but only quietly. His mother’s hatred of his father is legendary, even though he’s not entirely sure why she hates him so much. Don’t you dare turn out like your father, she says over and over, and Jin Rong nods every time despite not understanding. Everyone in Koi Tower knows you don’t say no to Madame Jin, and despite being only ten years old (a very mature ten years old, he’d insist if anyone asked), he’s learned that lesson several times over.

Which is what brings him here, walking down a filthy street with his mother holding his hand tightly. She’d brought a little basket of dumplings for his lunch, which he’s now clutching in his free hand, but she refuses to let go long enough for him to eat any.

He hears dogs barking from down an alley and tugs on his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, Mother, there are dogs down there! Can we go see them?”

“They’re probably strays,” Madame Jin tells him. “They can be dangerous, especially for children, so it’s better for us to stay away.” Before Jin Rong can complain, she turns back to the alley in one sharp movement. Something in her face shifts. “…A-Rong, stay close to me.” That said, she hurries down the alley towards the sound of barking. Did she change her mind?

As they get closer, Jin Rong begins to hear what she must have. There’s someone screaming, a high, reedy sound that must be coming from another kid. “N-no! Stay away! Get away from me! Help! Somebody, help me!”

Madame Jin draws her sword as the dogs come into view. They’re huge, hungry-looking beasts, nothing like his own pets back at Koi Tower, and Jin Rong shrinks into his mother’s side as she drives them off with a few quick slashes. The screaming dies down to whimpering, and he gets his first look at the kid. He looks young, and far dirtier than any child he’s ever seen. He’s definitely younger and dirtier than Jin Rong himself is, he notes with quiet satisfaction. Madame Jin kneels down and speaks soothingly, like she does when Jin Rong scrapes his knee during training. “Child, are you alright?”

The kid sniffles and wipes at his eyes, leaving smears of mud on his cheeks. “I’m okay…”

…That’s not mud, Jin Rong realizes. “You’re bleeding!”

Madame Jin nods, seeing the same thing he did. “What happened? Were you bitten? Here, let me see.”

“I-I’m okay,” the kid insists. “Really, I’m- Ow!” The last part comes as Jin Rong grabs his arm and yanks it forward so his mother can look.

“A-Rong!” Madame Jin snaps. She gently takes the kid’s arm, clicking her tongue at the sight of a deep bite. “Well, that looks painful. Here, let me…” She pulls a ribbon from her sleeve to bind the wound. “There. That should hold until we get you proper medical attention. Where are your parents?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?” Madame Jin echoes. “What do you mean?”

The kid shrugs. “They left on a night hunt, ages ago. I haven’t seen them since…”

Madame Jin takes a deep breath. “…I see. What’s your name, child?”

“Wei Ying!” the kid says.

“Wei Ying,” Madame Jin repeats. Jin Rong doesn’t understand why she cares so much. “Really?”

“Mhm!”

“Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze’s child?” Madame Jin presses.

"Mhm!” The kid nods. “D’you know them? When are they coming back?”

Something sad creeps over his mother’s face. “…I don’t think they are, A-Ying,” she says.

“Oh.” Wei Ying ducks his head. “…Are they dead?”

“I’m afraid so,” Madame Jin says gently.

“Oh,” Wei Ying repeats, very quietly. He sniffles quietly.

He’s not going to cry, is he? Jin Rong isn’t any good with crying people. He fumbles for his basket and pulls out a dumpling, which he holds out to the kid. “Here.”

“Eh?” Wei Ying stares at him, then at the dumpling. “Is that for me?”

“Just take it,” Jin Rong grumbles.

Wei Ying smiles at him, still a little teary-eyed. “Thank you, Rich-gege!”

It’s like the sun has just risen in the filthy alley. Wei Ying’s face lights up, his eyes shining as he bites into the dumpling. “It’s good!” he chirps around his mouthful. “It’s really, really good!”

Jin Rong manages to tear his eyes away from the brightest smile he’s ever seen long enough to catch his mother’s approving nod. “Do you… want more?” he asks.

“There’s more?!” Wei Ying steps closer, eyes wide. “It’s really okay if I have some? Even though they’re yours?”

“Why would I offer if it wasn’t okay?!” Jin Rong holds out the basket of dumplings.

Wei Ying takes it hesitantly and reaches in to pull one out. “Okay!”

He begins eating in quick bites. Jin Rong watches jealously. He’s hungry too! But his mother is looking at him with a proud smile, like he’s done something right. So he keeps watching, trying to ignore the way his stomach growls.

Wei Ying doesn’t ignore it, though. “Oh! Are you hungry, Rich-gege?” He glances into the basket, already half empty. “Sorry… I ate your food.” He holds it out. “You can have the rest, though!”

Jin Rong glances at his mother, then nods and takes the basket. She smiles at Wei Ying as he starts on the remaining dumplings. “A-Ying, do you have anywhere to stay?” Wei Ying shakes his head. “Would you like to come and stay with us?”

Wei Ying blinks at her. “Stay… with you and Rich-gege?”

“We have a huge house,” Jin Rong boasts. “With lots of servants and good food and warm beds!”

“And… I can stay there?” Wei Ying asks. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course,” Madame Jin says.

“Father won’t like it,” Jin Rong says.

Wei Ying flinches. Madame Jin frowns at Jin Rong. “What does that matter?” she asks. “Do you think I am beholden to your father’s wishes?” Jin Rong shakes his head quickly. Madame Jin nods and turns back to Wei Ying. “You don’t need to worry about him,” she says gently. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Wei Ying hesitates, looking away as he thinks. “It’s really okay?”

“It’s okay,” Madame Jin assures him.

Wei Ying smiles again. “Then… yes, please.” He giggles. “Please take me home with you!” He bows clumsily.

It’s cute. Sort of like when his dogs do tricks. Jin Rong glances at his mother, who smiles at both of them. “Well then, shall we go?”

“Mhm!”

Jin Rong nods. “Yeah, I want to go home.”

Madame Jin turns to leave the alley. Jin Rong follows. After a moment, a little hand takes his. He turns to see Wei Ying clinging to him. The kid smiles at him. “Is this okay?” he asks.

“…Sure,” Jin Rong decides.

Wei Ying giggles, grabbing onto Jin Rong’s arm more firmly. Jin Rong doesn’t bother to shake him off.

…

The sun has long since set when they return home. Wei Ying is exhausted by the time they reach the top of Koi Tower’s steps. So is Jin Rong, but he’s less exhausted, so he keeps his head up and looks superior as they stand before his father.

“My lady,” Jin Guangshan says. “You want to… adopt this child?” He says it like Madame Jin has suggested they roast and eat him.

“I am going to adopt this child,” Madame Jin says firmly.

“You know what people will say if you do this,” Jin Guangshan wheedles. “Everyone will think he’s mine, you know.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Madame Jin assures him. “I would never allow anyone to believe such nonsense.”

“My lady…”

Madame Jin turns to the children. “A-Rong, why don’t you show A-Ying around his new home?”

“My lady!”

“Go on,” she says, ignoring her husband. Jin Rong glances between the two of them, then turns to Wei Ying. The kid has his head down, swaying on his feet from exhaustion, staring at the floor like he can convince it to swallow him if he begs it hard enough. He’s still filthy; the three of them were brought to Jin Guangshan almost immediately, leaving the servants to prepare a bath in Jin Rong’s room.

Jin Rong grabs his hand and tugs him toward the door. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll take you to my room.”

“Okay.” Wei Ying follows him obediently.

They walk until the sound of arguing fades into the distance. The servants look at them oddly, the heir to the sect walking hand in hand with a filthy beggar boy. Jin Rong glares at anyone who does, but if Wei Ying notices he’s ignoring it.

“Here,” Jin Rong says, stopping in front of his bedroom door.

“This is your room?” Wei Ying asks.

“Yeah,” Jin Rong says. He reaches for the door.

There’s a bark from the other side, and Wei Ying goes pale. “D-dog!”

“She’s not like those dogs on the street,” Jin Rong tells him, a little annoyed. His puppy is a good girl, she’d never bite!

Before he can inform Wei Ying of this, the puppy gets tired of waiting for him to open the door enough for her to get out and throws her full weight against it. Jin Rong loses his grip as the door flies open and his puppy leaps out, barking joyously.

Wei Ying screams. He scrambles to hide behind Jin Rong, arms wrapping around his neck so tightly he can barely breathe. “Help!” he wails. “Help, help, save me! Rich-gege, make it go away!”

“Calm down!” Jin Rong snaps. “And let go of me!”

“I can’t!” Wei Ying cries. “Scary, it’s so scary! Gege, make it stop!”

“Fine!” He turns to the puppy. “Sit!”

She sits. Wei Ying doesn’t let go of him. Jin Rong groans. “What now?”

“Make it go away!” Wei Ying whines. “Please make it go away!”

“Alright, alright!” He waves a hand at the puppy. He’d pet her, but when he tries to step closer Wei Ying shrieks and yanks desperately at his clothes until he stops. “Go to the kennels! The kennels! Good girl!”

He’s glad Father got him a spiritual dog; he can’t imagine how hard it would be to get a regular dog to the kennels with Wei Ying clinging to him. At least he’s light.

…He’s very light, actually. Definitely lighter than Jin Rong, as well as shorter and scrawnier. He should talk to his mother about that. Maybe Wei Ying needs more food, like when Jin Rong found that little puppy whose mother hadn’t been feeding him. If Wei Ying didn’t have a mother to feed him before then he probably didn’t get enough, right? If he’s really going to be Jin Rong’s little brother then it’s his job to look after him! He doesn’t want Wei Ying to die!

While he’s been thinking, his puppy has slunk off towards the kennels. He makes a note to bring her some treats later; it’s not her fault his new brother doesn’t like her! “There, she’s gone! Will you get off now?”

Wei Ying all but throws himself off him. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!”

“It’s… fine.” He’s still a little annoyed, but who’s going to make a fuss looking at those big eyes, still wide and bright with tears from the fright? Who could upset him more over something this small? It’s not like he can’t see his dogs, he just has to keep them away from Wei Ying! Or teach him not to be scared of them! He can do that! “Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?” Wei Ying blinks at him. “You… You can call it back if you want…”

“I don’t want you screaming in my ear all night,” Jin Rong scoffs.

“All… night?”

“Well, why would we get a bath ready for you here if you were sleeping somewhere else?” Jin Rong asks. “Or would you rather sleep in the hall?”

“N-no!” Wei Ying says quickly. “If you’re really okay with me staying in your room…”

It occurs to Jin Rong that he doesn’t actually know if his mother has had another room prepared for Wei Ying or not. But it’s too late now! He’s already said that Wei Ying can stay in his room, and Madame Jin always says that a good sect leader keeps his word! So he’ll share with Wei Ying, at least just for tonight.

He manages to usher Wei Ying into the bedroom and to the tub of water without any more issues. While the younger boy bathes, he grabs a set of his own inner robes for him; it’s not like there’s anything else for him to wear other than the dirty rags he brought with him. What would be the point of bathing if he’s just going to put on filthy clothes again?

When Wei Ying finally emerges from the bath, clean with his hair still wet and dressed in Jin Rong’s too-big clothes, Jin Rong is considering the next problem: he’s only got one bed.

“Um… I can sleep on the floor…” Wei Ying offers, glancing from Jin Rong to the bed and back again. “I’m used to stuff like that.”

“Mother says guests always get first priority,” Jin Rong says as haughtily as he can. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“But it’s your room!”

“Shut up!” Jin Rong snaps. “I said you could take the bed so you take the bed! Stop arguing!”

“O-okay!” Wei Ying scurries over to the bed. “Um… good night.”

“…Good night.”

Jin Rong blows out the candles as Wei Ying settles into bed. He giggles, nuzzling into the sheets. “Your bed is so nice!”

Jin Rong shrugs, even though Wei Ying probably can’t see him in the dark. “It’s okay.”

“You must be really rich, Gege,” Wei Ying sighs. “If this is only okay…”

“Go to sleep already,” Jin Rong grumbles. “I’m tired, and I can’t sleep with you chattering.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Wei Ying says. “I can’t help it, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in ages and ages! Am I bothering you?”

“Shut uuuuuuuuuup!” Jin Rong groans. He climbs onto the bed to throw a hand over Wei Ying’s mouth.

Wei Ying yelps and tries to squirm away, but Jin Rong pins him down without too much trouble. It’s nice to be stronger than someone. “Hey, let go!”

“Not until you stop talking!” Jin Rong says.

Wei Ying grabs the arm Jin Rong is using to hold himself up and pulls, knocking him off balance and onto his side on the bed. “I’ll stop talking when you stop talking!”

“You-!” Jin Rong considers punching the younger boy, but decides against it. “I’m not moving,” he says, closing his eyes.

He gets the sense that Wei Ying is eyeing him closely. “…Me neither,” he says eventually. A hand creeps into his hesitantly. “Good night, Gege.”

Jin Rong sighs and squeezes Wei Ying’s hand. “Good night.”

(He wakes the next morning to Wei Ying’s head on his shoulder, their hands still clasped together. Somehow, despite the bruises from being kicked at some point in the night, he can’t bring himself to mind.)

[rintarous]

tobio giving you his jacket👉🏻👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻because you’ll miss him during nationals 🥺 hcs??? spare tobio ma’am

spare tobio??? ma’am he’s my bias 😔 ily tobio

kags absolutely hates being far away from you

cs he cant handle long distance as he is one secret clingy mf

so i bet theres some waterworks going on before the team actually leaves for tokyo

much to their dismay

you got tsukki glaring at kags for taking too long to say goodbye to you from the window

and hinata basically mocking kags with tanaka and nishinoya

while you and kags were basically crying your eyes out just outside their bus

even if you already cried the night before as you watched him pack his shit BAHAHA

you already had a hard time missing him when he went to that week long all japan youth training camp

how much more when you’re not sure when he’s going to be back????

“i’m gonna miss you” you sigh as you rolled around in his bed

“stop reminding me” kageyama whines as he stuffed more clothes into his bag

“no one’s going to walk me to and from school, no one’s gonna buy milk with me at the store, no one’s gonna give me a kiss when we meet each other on the street-” your rambling got cut off by kageyama giving you a loving peck 

“shut up, you’re making me sad” he pokes your cheek

you pulled his arm thus making him fall on top of you 

you wrapped your limbs around his body, trapping him in your embrace

“hah have fun leaving for tokyo when you can’t escape my death grip” you laughed, trying to hide the sadness in your voice pfft

tobio knows ur ticklish so all it took was a few pokes to your sides and voila he’s free from your grip

but nope, mans just rolled over so now you were on top of him, lying on his chest

“can we just stay like this forever?” you mumbled, suddenly feeling drowsy

“i wish.. but you know i can’t” he sighs, rubbing your back soothingly

suddenly kageyama feels his shirt dampen

“you’re crying already?” kageyama asks in amusement

cs why would u be crying when he hasn’t even left yet 

“zip it” you say as you hide your face from him

kageyama suddenly stands up and grabs something from his bag

“here” he passes you something soft 

you looked up and it was his team jacket

“kags, you need this” you give it back to him

kageyama waves his hand, “i’ll ask yachi or shimizu senpai for another one.. keep it” 

and there goes the water works again lol

you ended up staying over cs god knows how much can he handle the pain of watching you cry again as he walks you home

so now here you two go again, crying in front of his team

but this time you were wearing his jacket that was 10x bigger than you

yachi tells yamaguchi that you look like a cute little kid lkadnkjsndsakj

“please stop crying” kags pleads as he was frantically wiping your endless tears

“i will if you stop crying with me” you wailed, throwing yourself onto him for the nth time today

“kageyama!” takeda sensei calls, motioning the time

kageyama nods and faces you for the last time in a while

he then cups your face, “i’ll be back soon, i promise. i’ll call and text you when i can, okay?” he promised

you nod your head, still pouting

“kick their ass for me” you sniffled, poking his red nose

“i love you” you kissed him, making him smile and tear up… again

“i love you too, y/n” he kissed your forehead, “i have to go now” he says sadly

you nod your head again and gave him one last hug

you waved goodbye at the team as kageyama FINALLY steps into the bus

all his teammates including kiyoko and yachi ran to his side of the window and waved

“BYE Y/N-CHAN!” they shout making you laugh

you watched as the bus slowly leave your vision before heading home

as soon as the bus leaves the school grounds, you bet your ass the entire karasuno volleyball team teased the fuck out of kageyama

“that was like a drama i saw on tv!” hinata yells obnoxiously

“hey stop that. the king might miss his queen when you mention her name” tsukki snickers, still lowkey annoyed that it took them awhile to leave

kageyama rolls his eyes and plugs in his earphones and sends you his first text

“wear my jacket and it’ll feel like i’m hugging you

AAHHAHA THE END

[bobathirstaccount]

The Bargain

Boba x fem!reader, established relationship, Post-Sarlacc Boba

TW: unprotected sex

You ask Boba to treat you like one of his bounties “back in the day.”

Translations

Cyar’ika - Mando’a for darling/ sweetheart

Mesh’la - Mando’a for beautiful

***

The dust made it hard to pretend. You turned your head to the side and spit out some sand. He didn’t have to throw you face down in the desert, you thought.

You had started at the center of Mos Eisly. He had given you a 15 minute head start, then stalked you through the city. The chase had been exhilarating. You snuck from cantina to cantina, from ally to ally. You lasted about half the day, but you figured he was just being sporting. When he’d finally picked you up, he had made a scene.

You had been huddled in the corner of a cantina with a Spotchka, watching everyone who came in. A vice-like hand closed over your shoulder, causing you to jump up and scream. Spotchka had gone everywhere. He’d thrown you down on the table and slammed binders on you. He’d drug you out of the cantina while you struggled and screamed. He’d drug you all the way back to the speeder, then tossed you on the back unceremoniously. He had spoken little, manhandling you roughly. Then he had dumped you in the sand upon your arrival at Slave 1.

A large hand squeezed around the back of you neck, pulling you to your feet. He shoved you forward, pushing you up Slave 1’s gangway. Once inside, he had magnetically fastened your binders to the wall, leaving you to stand there on your tippy toes for awhile. When he returned, he took the gag out of your mouth.

“Please, please let me go,” you begged, crying a little.

“The bounty on your head is too high to do that.” He focused on fixing some small thing.

“But I haven’t done anything!” You wailed.

“No one ever does.”

You tried a different approach, “I have friends, and credits, I can get you things you want...”

He shook his head, “What I want is to deliver my bounties.”

You try the last thing you can think of, “When was the last time you fucked anyway?” He didn’t even look over, “I told you, you’re worth too much to let go.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.” He turns to you, and studies you for a moment. “No.” You glare.

“Just give me a head start? 30 minutes?”

He snorted, “30 minutes is enough time to get off world.”

“Fifteen?” He stood and walked over to you, stopping within arm’s reach. He reached a hand out to touch your breasts. You tried to twist away from him. He grabbed the binders, and pushing himself into you he bit your throat savagely. You cried out in surprise and pain. Maybe a little pleasure. “I can do whatever I want with you. You’re my bounty now.” He gently slide a finger along your jawline to emphasize that. Then he dropped it and went further into the interior of his ship.
When he returned within your line of sight, you tried again. “Please, just a head start... Please, I’ll do whatever you want...” you said breathlessly. He considered you again. “Anything?”

You gulped and nodded.

He approached you slowly. When he was inches away from you he stopped. He ran a light finger from your collarbones down to your groin. He slipped his fingers in between your legs, grabbing you.

“This is going to be a pricy pussy,” he tightened his grip. You let out a noise somewhere between scared and turned on. He began to pet you through your pants. You twisted, moaning softly. He reached up with his other hand and undid your binders. You fell, slumping over a bit. He propped you up against the wall. You put your hands against his chest, pushing away. He brushed your hands away and used a foot to widen your stance. You feel his hands creep around either ass cheek, and then he lifts you up, pressing you against the wall. He grinds his already hard cock into you. You squirm against him. He held you still and continued to grind into you. Finally he stopped, pulling back and letting you slide to the floor. He waited for you to pull yourself to your feet.

“Strip for me.” He twirls your hair with a gloved finger. “Slowly.”

You gulp and look up at his helmet for a moment, before dropping your gaze. You slowly slide off your jacket, then your sweater. Next was your tee shirt. The only thing you had left was a bra. You started to undo your pants, sliding them down slowly....

You stood naked before him finally. He pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, caressing your shoulders as he did. You shudder. He appraised you for a moment, then, picking you up he turned and took you further into the ship. He sat down in the observation room with you in his lap, straddling him. He looks at you, somehow able to imply expectancy from behind a helmet. You look down at his pants, then back up at him. He nods.

With shaky hands you start to undo his pants. He sighs contentedly. You struggle for a moment, but then his already hard cock springs out. He grabs you by the back of your skull and pushes your head down onto his cock. You readjust uncomfortably as his shaft enters your mouth. He immediately gags you and you struggle under his grip. You gasp, tears streaming down your face when he lets you come up for air. He gags you again. Finally he pulls you by the hair back up into his lap.

”Ride me,” he gruffly commanded. You sniffle back mucus and tears and position him under yourself. You slowly slide down onto him. He moans. “Cyar’ika,” he mumbles. You shush him, smacking him on the side of his helmet. He snaps back into character. “Harder,” he grips your hips painfully and pulls you down. You start to bounce up and down, guided by his unyielding grip. For a moment there is only the sound of you two fucking. Then he says, “Turn around.” You stop, standing up. He twirls you around and pulls you back onto his cock. You yelp at the sudden intrusion. He grabs your thighs and spreads your legs. Then his hands travel up to your hips. He squeezes your curves. He urges you to start fucking him. You bounce up and down again. In this position he is hitting all the right angles in your pussy. You start to edge towards orgasm. He must notice, because he slides a hand down to your clit, where he rubs circles. You are so close to cumming. He pulls out and removes his hand. You cry out, frustrated.“So hot for a merc?” He asks teasingly. You say nothing, breathing raggedly and anticipating penetration. He stood up, both sliding back into you as well as pushing you over a table. Your hips hit the edge of it. He spread your legs wider and railed into you. You try to grab ahold of the table to no avail. You groan, punctuated by his thrusts into you. He grabs you by the throat and pulls you up into almost a standing position.

You whine. His hand travels down from your throat to your tits, stopping to massage them appreciatively. You try to lift an arm from your side. This earns you getting both arms twisted behind your back and your cheek slammed back into the table. You stayed prone there, gritting your teeth as he fucked you.

“Such a tight pussy. This might be worth the trouble after all.”

You try to say something, but he flips you over on the table and pulls your ankles up. He places them on either shoulder. He uses one hand to hold your hips in place and runs the other one from your cheek down your body to your pussy. He inserts two gloved fingers, swirling them. You groan, trying to lift your hips. He holds you in place.

“So wet, little one.” He plunged his cock back into you. You yelp. He is still for a moment, then starts to fuck you deep, lifting your ass off the table with both hands. This angle is extremely intense, and your hands shoot out, trying to find something to hold onto. You are unsuccessful.

He pulls out and drops your ankles off either side. You fall forward. He grabs your chin with his hand. “Lick the tip.”

You find yourself on your knees, almost eye level with his cock. You tentatively stick your tongue out, swirling it around the tip of his cock. He groans loudly. “Now take all of it.” He thrusts into your mouth, gagging you. Tears stream down your face as you take his cock over and over in your mouth. He suddenly pulls out and pushes you onto all fours on the ground. You hear him get down behind you.

You feel two strong hands on either hip. They gently rub your ass and hips before a vice grip takes ahold of you. You feel him penetrate you and moan. He pulls you back against him as he starts to fuck you. You scrabble, trying to get away. He holds you fast and fucks you mercilessly. A hand snakes its way between your legs and starts to play with your clit, making light circles. You whine, wanting more pressure. The hand disappears. You whine again, trying to buck your hips. The hand comes back, ghosting pressure on your clit. You almost start to cry. You feel yourself on the verge of orgasm and grind yourself against him.

“Such a needy little pussy,” you hear the huskiness in his voice and know he’s close. The fingers return again, rubbing frantic circles over your clit.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” your pussy starts to clutch around his cock. He keeps the pace steady, not letting up on your clit either. Your orgasm is so intense you do actually start to cry a bit. Finally you are spent. He pulls out and you feel a hot sticky mess hit your ass cheeks as he groans loudly.

You collapse onto the floor a shivering mess. Strong arms lift you and stand you up. He holds you close to him and keeps you standing. You bury your head into his chest, and feel his helmet lightly knock you on the head, the equivalent of a kiss.

“Was that good, mesh’la?”
You smile, “It was incredible.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but you kept taking it.”

You smiled and looked up at him sinfully. He tilted his helmet slightly down to look at you better. Finally you pull away.


“But did you have to cum on my ass and back? Babe, come on. Now I need a shower.”

“What? That’s what I’d do if you were a bounty.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow and meet his playful expression as he pulls his helmet from his head.

”Can I join you in the fresher?”

You smile and nod.

[magikkittenz]

Denied Sweets

Warnings: Crying, tantrum throwing

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Familial Intruloceit

Word Count: 804

AO3

Summary: Janus wants cookies and Remus has a very hard time saying no

----------------------------------------------------

Remus panicked going back and forth trying to look for the cookies. Jan was currently sitting at the table, crying and whining for one. Logan had tried to get Remus to enforce stricter rules and to stop him from indulging in their son’s cookie munching habit, but Remus couldn’t help it. Janus was too cute to be denied a cookie, and it absolutely broke the man’s heart when he saw the child upset.

Said child was in his chair, slamming his hands on the table and crying louder, sniffling brokenly. Remus dove into the pantry, trying his best to look for the cookie jar. He suspected Logan most likely hid it before he went to work. He huffed and walked outside defeatedly, slumping in front of his son’s chair. “Hey baby,” he said with a defeated and careful smile.

Jan was having none of it. Seeing his dad come out with not a single cookie in his hand, he started to wail, babbling what was most certainly the curse words Remus had taught him. The man sighed and walked over to him, sitting beside him. He tried to pick Janus up in an attempt to calm him but the little serpent shook his head wildly, blowing a raspberry at his father.

“Wh-where th’ cookie?!” he demanded, taking one tiny hand and rubbing his cheeks to clear away the tears.

“I’m sorry baby, there’s no cookies,” he said quietly.

Janus seemed even more unhappy at the answer and started crying again, boarding on screaming. Remus sat there, not quite sure what to do before finally deciding to pick Janus up despite the protests. What did Logan do again to resolve these kinds of issues? Oh, right, discipline. But he couldn’t do that to Jan. Remus looked at his son’s small helpless face, sadness and frustration written all over it and he sat down on the couch, cradling the toddler. Janus tried pushing against his father, wanting out of the embrace. “No hug! Wan’ cookies!” he sobbed, sniffling furiously.

Using the encouraging words Logan gave him this morning about denying Janus cookies, he slowly sat up straight, looking right at the child. “Janus, you can’t have any cookies,” he said as firmly as he could.

Surprisingly, the toddler stopped crying, instead looking up at his dad in disbelief. He sat there, dumbfounded and silent for so long Remus started to freak out; did he break him?

Luckily, after 5 minutes Janus slowly moved his head into Remus’ chest, crying now of sadness rather than frustration. He gripped Remus’ shirt and batted him with his small hand, which didn’t do as much damage as he intended. “Why-why no cookie da’?” he sniffled and hiccuped. “I wan’ cookie! P-pwease? Da’ pwease?” 

Remus was shocked and willed himself not to look down at his son’s face. He knew if he did he would go on a rampage to find that damn cookie jar, even if he had to destroy the house to do it. Janus cried so desperately into Remus that the man felt tears springing in his own eyes, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He swallowed thickly and said, “Because your papa said you eat too many, my little serpent. You can only have one cookie a day, remember what he said? And only after you eat your dinner.”

Janus whimpered, his crying going down. “Papa ‘s stupid,” he said grumpily, making Remus laugh. 

“Don’t worry, you can be mad at him when he gets home,” he said quietly, stroking his fingers through Janus’ hair. 

His son made a noise of affirmation as if he were determined to make sure he did so. He shifted slightly and looked up at his dad. “Ar’ you ma’ a’ me da’?” he asked timidly.

Remus smiled down at him fondly and kissed his forehead. “I’m not my small snek. Are you mad at me?”

Janus shook his head firmly, leaning in and giving Remus a kiss on the cheek in return. “Do you wanna watch a Disney movie until papa gets home?”

Jan nodded excitedly and carefully got off of Remus’ lap, heading towards the dvd cabinet. To pick a movie out.

Following that afternoon when Logan came home he found Remus and Janus passed out, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over them. Remus was lying on his back with their son on his stomach while the movie played in the background. With a sigh and a smile Logan quietly turned the tv off, pressing a gentle kiss to his husband’s lips and a kiss to his son’s cheek. Later on when Janus woke up, he would have to deal with an angry, grudge-holding 4-year-old, but right now, as he sat down on the ground next to the couch, he simply relaxed with his family.

[brianc521]

Connor angst where he makes you not feel worth it

Been awhile since I’ve written for Connor, here you go!

Space | Connor Brashier

Connor’s been extremely busy since he’s come home from tour with Shawn. He’s been almost as busy as he was on tour. 

Collabing with David Dobrik. Connecting with Madison and planning future projects. Filming a music video with Kygo. Meetings with Shawn’s team about new music and the docu from tour. 

You’ve seen him just about as much as you did while he was on tour. The difference being, you share a home, and he is actually home. Well most of the time. While with David he hopped a flight to Vegas and didn’t tell you until after he had arrived. He’s traveled to Canada for meetings and to see Brian. Never once thinking to invite you. 

“I’m busy, what the fuck do you want me to do about it?” He spits, eyes glued to his phone.

You actually wonder if his eyes are still blue, because you can’t remember the last time he looked up from his phone long enough for you to be able to focus on the color. Soon they have to turn into a screen themselves right? 

“Take a break? It is a human thing to do.” You mutter, washing up the dinner dishes. 

“I don’t need to though. You’re just being fucking needy.” 

You look down into the sink, swallowing back the tears trying to escape you. He’s been so moody lately, and you think it’s because he spends all of his time in front of a screen. It has to pent up some energy there, cause mood changes. You just happen to be the constant in his line of fire. 

“No response?” He snides, standing up, thumb tapping at his phone rapidly. “Cool.” He rolls his eyes, turning and walking out of the room. You stare after him, shaking your head. 

What were you still doing here? He obviously doesn’t seem to want you anymore. You can not pinpoint the last time you remember being in bed together at the same time. Or when he touched you last. He’s constantly telling you that you bother him, and get in his way. Now suddenly you’re ‘fucking needy’ for simply wanting to know if he’d be home this weekend. It wasn’t like you were sticking your plans on him, you literally just wanted to know. 

You set the plate you’re holding down, turning the sink off before drying off your hands. You’re over it. At this point you’re more hurt in this relationship than you are happy, so why were you fighting when he isn’t. You’re actually just fighting against him, and you’re tired. 

You pass his office, noticing he left the door open for once. What you don’t see is how he leans over to see you from around his monitor screen. His brows furrow when he watches you wipe your cheek. 

He listens as you reach into the closet and pull your luggage out. He goes back to what he was editing, that is until you walk past again, this time pulling your suitcase behind you. 

His heart stops, and suddenly he can’t remember what you said to him during dinner. He can’t remember how he responded. So he gets up, walking into the hallway as you head to the bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” He asks harshly, stalking after you. 

You don’t respond, you just lug the suitcase up onto your once shared bed. He appears in the doorway when you flip the top up and open. He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. 

“Are you going on a trip?” He asks, voice so detached almost as if he’s annoyed.

You ignore him, and the sharp pain ripping through your chest as you think about no longer being with him. You turn and open your drawer, pulling out all your panties and bras. You dump them into the bag and turn back for your next drawer. 

“Gonna be gone long enough to need all of those?” He snickers, walking forward and sitting on the bed next to your bag. 

You turn back, and almost stop at how close he is, but continue with all your camisoles and sports bras in hand. You settle them in the bag and make sure there’s room for your shirts and pants, as long as you have the things you need for work this week you can then have the time to figure out how to come back to get the rest of them. 

His face scrunches as he watches you grab every shirt from your shirt drawer, leaving it empty as you hip check it closed. It all starts to click in his brain when you reach for your jeans. 

“Hey,” He says, looking down into your bag and then back up at your heartbroken face. “What’s happening?” He says quickly, reaching for your hands. “What happened? Is everyone okay?” 

It hurts you even more that he thinks you’re packing because someone’s hurt and needs you. Not that you’re hurt and don’t need him anymore. 

You still won’t speak to him as you throw a few pairs of shoes into the bag, turning for a few books. 

“Babe, what’s happening? Talk to me.” He stands, panicking a little. Watching you reach for your books tells him something is seriously wrong. “Where do we need to go? Your Moms? Grandpa?” He flounders, opening his closet and pulling a bag out as well. 

“No Connor,” You croak. Stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t need to go anywhere, I do.” 

“I can’t come?” He asks, stare going hard. 

“No.”

“Care to explain why?” He sets his hands on his hips. 

“Because I’m leaving.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

“I’m leaving you.” You look up at him from under your lashes, scared of his reaction.

“What?” He breathes out, voice so low that if you weren’t so accustomed to everything about him you probably wouldn’t have heard it. 

“I can’t do it anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re unhappy.” 

“Who said that?” He raises his voice, hands going to his hair. You flinch at the movement and turn to keep grabbing things, like your phone charger. 

“You did.” 

“No I didn’t.” 

“You did Connor, earlier when you called me fucking needy. Yesterday when you told me I was bothering you. Last week when I was ‘in the way’ while you were setting up to edit. When you stopped coming to bed. When you started traveling and saw what your life could be. What your life should be. When you realized that I hold you back from what you want.” 

“That’s not fucking true, you’re what I want.” 

“No Connor I’m not. And you’ve made that blatantly clear. So just give me a few minutes to get some essentials and I’ll be out of your way for awhile. And the next time you go out of town, probably this weekend, I’ll come back and get the rest of my things and you’ll have what you want. You just have to give me a little time to pack up my life.” 

His eyes are watering with tears, heart breaking at the fact that he actually made feel like he doesn’t want you. 

“No, I don’t want that. I want your life, here, with me. Please, don’t do this.” 

“You’ll be okay,” You sniffle, turning and jumping at how close he is now. Practically chest to chest. “Me? I’ll learn to be okay, I love you Connor. And if I don’t make you happy anymore then I love you enough to let you go so you can be.” 

“Stop, please.” He sobs, “I don’t want that. I want you, you make me so happy. I’m living the best life I could because I have you. I didn’t mean any of those things. I’ve been stressed out, and so overworked. I don’t even remember saying those things. Please let me make it better.” 

Your shoulders slump as you look at him. He’s crying in a way you’ve never seen before. You’ve been together for years, tears in front of each other have occurred. Usually for him it’s one of two cries. Hold me I’m sad, or, I’m not crying that’s dust in my eye. This though, this is a desperate cry. It’s like he can’t wrap his mind around what’s happening. He’s sobbing, can’t catch his breath as he babbles on and on. 

“I love you, I love you so much. Please, please don’t do this.” 

“Connor,” You coo, bringing a hand to his chest to get him to sit. He wraps his arms around your waist, never wanting to let go. “You need to calm down.” 

“I can’t, I mean you’re leaving me.” He hiccups, rubbing his face on your stomach, leaving tears stains on the fabric of your shirt. 

“I think we need a break.” 

“No.” He whips his head up. “We promised to never do that, we promised.” He whines. 

“We were different when we promised that.” 

“How? How were we different?” 

“We were in love then.” 

His whole world crumbles around his, you watch every muscle in his face frown. “We’re not in love?” He wails. 

“I love you Connor, and I know you love me. But we’re not the same couple we used to be. We don’t try anymore. If you can count this as a hug then I think this is the 2nd time you’ve hugged me since you’ve come home. We don’t try and fight for the other any more. We don’t try to flirt or really show our love because we’ve become reliant on the fact that we do love each other. While what we need is to show the other we care. I’ve failed too, it’s on the both of us. So let’s take some time, give some distance and see if we can find that couple again.”

“I don’t want you to leave, I’ll stay in the guest room if you want space. Just don’t leave.” 

“No Connor, we need more space than that.” 

“Please, I’ll make it better just don’t leave.” 

“I’ll call you in the morning, before I leave for work.” You sigh, prying his hands off and reaching for your suitcase. After getting it zipped up and back on the ground you feel his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Let me take you out tomorrow. A date, like we used to. Let me make you fall in love with me again.” He pleads.

“Okay,” You smile, nodding at him. 

He hesitates, but leans closer. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

You contemplate it, but in the end know you need him too. So you nod and hold back your own cry when his lips touch yours. It’s a kiss you haven’t had in awhile. It’s soft, and slow. Needy and desperate, but all the love you haven’t felt in so long. 

You haven’t even left yet, but the space is working. You know you’ll be back in this room soon enough. This time with your lover with you.

[peachyteabuck]

study buddy, part iv

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: for the first time in her life, natasha romanoff freaks out about a test grade. luckily, you’re there to coach her through it. 

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,253

trigger warnings: talk of past drug abuse, mention of sexual assault, heavy smut, fluff, unhappy childhood mention 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two, part three

You’re already soaking when Nat teased the head of the toy at your entrance, your arousal evident by the sounds of the silicon as it rubbed against your slick, smooth folds. With each drag a whine escaped you, each second that passed by met with another flood of heat across your skin. “Ple-ease,” you sniffled as fat tears welled up in your eyes and your voice broke from overuse. “Please, Mommy, please”

Natasha just let out a hearty laugh, moving the strap away and replacing it with her fingers. As she spoke, she just barely dipped them inside of you. “Oh, c’mon baby girl. Was that not enough for you? Do want Mommy to give you more? Huh? Are you such a greedy little slut you can’t appreciate what your Mommy gives you?”

You nodded furiously, your “yesyesyesyesyes”s just above a low whisper as you rolled your hips. Your words slowly but surely turned to babble. “yes mommy yes please I’m your little slut I want more please give me more.”

Natasha laughed again as she leaned forward to invade your line of sight once more.

“Mm, might have to be careful and fuck you nice and slow,” she mumbled into your collarbone, the bruises still deep purple. The thin layer of sweat that had formed there made her smile. “Don’t want to break this perfect little thing I’ve been gifted.”

You shook your head violently, grabbing at the sheets so hard your fingers went cold and where each bone met the next ached. “No, no no please, please fuck me Mommy please please touch me please fuck me please.”

Natasha remained unconvinced by your whining. “You poor little thing. I just neglect you so much. Don’t I?” You struggled to speak as she moved to straddle your waist. The heavy toy moved as she did so, occasionally hitting your stomach as she sat upon you. “Hm. Maybe you should get yourself off if you don’t want to answer me, is that a fair punishment?”

You still didn’t respond with the words Natasha wanted, mind too fucked out to sob properly, let alone speak. Still, the fear of disappointing her cut through the fog, and you nodded weakly.

The woman above you smiled, the eponymous image of something wicked that wanted to make you come in whatever way she saw fit. Beside you, placed expertly by Natasha with equal distance between each toy, rested at least four different vibrators of varying strength and shape. If you were lucky enough to get off at your own hand, it’s unlikely Natasha would allow you to choose which weapon will lead to your destruction. Somehow, that thought is worse than anything else she could do to you; forced to bring yourself to the edge (or deny yourself such release) without the dignity of choice but ultimate control over choice of action seems like stories of ole, when disgraced knights caught in their desertion were forced to sacrifice themselves in front of large crowds with the weapon chosen by their ruler.

Empty promises of autonomy, spiritless last chances at reclaiming pride…that’s what they all were.

But you still can’t find it in yourself to complain when Natasha slipped the most powerful of the set into your hands – a battery powered Hitachi colored a matte black – and told you to edge yourself. Your throat burned by then, each breathy moan felt like it’d been ripped out of you with acrylic lesbian porno nails. That sure as Hell didn’t stop you, though, from moaning with each roll of your hips as the woman above you flipped it on.

It didn’t stop Natasha, either, as she cradled your tear-stained face with her pussy-wet hands and told you not to stop until she said so.

“C’mon, baby,” she cooed. Her lips grazed across your cheek as she did so. “Do what you’re told, lemme watch you. Show me how cute you are when you get yourself off.”

It’s so much so quick, every sensation making your whole body shake violently. Natasha mocked you as it became too much, sneering when she pulled the toy away from your center and you screamed in protest. “Can the little slut not take it, hm? Does Mommy not letting you cum make you sad?”

You didn’t say anything, terrified of worse punishment.

Natasha slapped your chest, leaving your breasts angry and hot. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” You cried. “Yes Mommy I want to cum, please let me cum!”

Natasha just rolled her eyes. “What you need doesn’t matter. And keep whining like that…” she paused to pinch one of your nipples and ignored your wails. “I’ll really give you something to cry about.”

This continued three, four, five more times (how many you still can’t exactly be sure), each worse than the last. You’d get there, right at the peak, right at the edge of the mountain, right before one jumped into an ocean, and then-

“Stop. Now. You’re done.”

And then you’d cry and whine high in your throat and thrash around. Somewhere between your lip starting to bleed from you biting it and your drool forming a pool on the sweat-slick pillow she started to fuck you, a horrible and terrifying slow pace that was steady and painful and holy shit you didn’t even know they made fake cocks that big.

Natasha laughed as a particularly poignant thrust almost made you lose feeling in your hands and feet, your strangled weeps sounds that only encouraged her. “There we go,” she murmured, reaching over to grab a bullet vibrator before she turned it on and slipped it under the strap on. She only got more feral, fucking you harder as the vibrations gave her more pleasure than she expected, more pleasure than she ever could’ve dreamed of.

It was almost too much, the feeling of your body under hers and the sounds of your moaning and begging mixed with the soreness in her muscles of her abdomen and the tightness just beneath that, the sweet vibrations on her clit and the sight of you – all stretched out with your knees pressed to your heated ears and jaw slack and eyes scrunched shut and hair wild against the pillow and something, something incoherent but still so beautiful falling from your swollen lips.

Some words, not most, but some, she could decipher. “Mommy, mommy, please please don’t stop I’m gonna cum please make me cum.”

And oh, did she make you cum.

It didn’t feel the same as the last time, doesn’t feel as sudden. Deeper almost, earth-shatteringly so.

Natasha’s wearing the same shit-eating grin, though her eyes are much more hazy and tears prick the corners of them as well as your own.

“You keep soaking my sheets like this, babygirl, Mommy’s gonna have to make you pick up the tab,” she chuckles as she pulls out of you.

For a moment you just laid there, twitching and gasping as the aftershocks rolled through you, as your pussy clenched around nothing and as your eyes cried without any tears. You couldn’t speak – each time you tried the words fell away from your brain before they could be said.

“You good, baby?” she cooed, rubbing her thumb over your chin and bottom lip.

All you could do is mmm as the world slowly rebuilds itself around you. Natasha chuckles at that, laughed as she pulled the strap-on off and tossed it in the bathroom to be cleaned later. At that moment, she simply grabbed what she needed for aftercare – including the special lotion she had bought for you when Sam had dragged her to Bed, Bath, and Beyond a few days prior.

She cleaned between your legs with a washcloth dampened with cool water – something that normally made you flinch and hiss, but then did nothing as you laid there and panted with your eyes firmly shut.

“You’re always so good for me, baby,” she cooed once she was done. You were too tired to do anything except give a soft smile in response. “You want to take a nap before we gotta leave?”

You were asleep before Natasha could finish her question. She chuckled nonetheless, and kissed your temple before throwing the cloth in her dirty laundry bin (one that you bought her when you had discovered – horrified beyond what you thought was possible – that she just piled all of her dirty clothes into one corner “like some sort of thirteen year old boy at summer camp,” as you had said). She curled up under the thick, heavy blankets with her legs around your waist and arms around your chest.

It was nice, the silence. Natasha welcomed the sleep that pulled at her eyelids, and soon the two of you were asleep just as the rest of the world roared to life.

The alarm – one of several you had in your phone that go off at oddly specific times – woke the both of you with some loud jingling that may or may not be the music box version of some hit emo song that was popular around the time Natasha and you would’ve been in middle school.  

It’s almost an hour after that when you finally regained control over your body, heart returning to a normal pace and legs not aching (too badly) every time you tried to walk. As you slipped on the easiest clothes possible (see: a hood of Natasha’s and some old sleep shorts of yours), you finally noticed Natasha offering you your phone.

“Let me walk you to class?” she more suggested than asked.

It was sweet, and you grinned widely at her and nodded wordlessly as you reached for your phone before you grabbed your backpack and she grabbed her own. It was an interesting juxtaposition, to see your powder blue Jansport artfully stuffed to brim with colored pens, notebooks, sticky notes, highlighters, and your laptop with exactly one (1) sticker (of a cat trying to climb an adorable small cactus) verses Nat’s beat-up backpack that only held one five-subject notebook, a pencil case with five (5) black ballpoint pens, two Mountain Dews, three Monsters, and a half-drank carton of orange juice. Maybe it was dorky to giggle as Nat’s thumb rubbed circles onto the back of your hand, but you didn’t really care. Little butterflies populated your stomach and limbs, but they aren’t nervous. They were too excited to be nervous, preoccupied with the intimidating pretty girl who had accepted you into her tight personal bubble.

The walk to campus wasn’t far, cliques of freshman with lanyards around their necks and frat boys wearing Supreme became more frequent as you neared the on-campus housing area.

When you breach the official campus it’s another ten minutes until you make your way into the hall where your class is being held. Just as the two of you sit down in your seats way in the back, the professor comes in, calmly places his light brown leather briefcase on the table at the front of the class, and then coolly announces that the class will be having a “surprise assessment.”

“You’ll get forty-five minutes once you hear the sound of the timer starting, any unfinished assessments will receive a failing grade,” the professor said with some paradoxical mix of apathy and malice. With each passing second, the lecture hall becomes more and more ablaze with increasing heart beats and sweaty palms.

Immediately, you could feel Natasha tense next to you. As the TA helped pass the quizzes out, you tried to take a moment to grasp her shaking hand. As you wrap your fingers around hers, you tried to reassure her. “It’ll be okay,” you mouthed. “I promise.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just sucks in a deep breath and clicks the (your) mechanical pencil to push the lead forward before writing down her name and the date onto the misleadingly thin stack of perfectly stapled paper.

The TA is a dick, even you’d admit that. But she sure does know how to perfect mundane tasks.

As you start on your own quiz, you realize that this isn’t that hard. It’s a few multiple-choice questions, a short essay about Lacan’s influence on Butler. Most of the short-answers questions focus on Baudrillard’s theory about the Gulf War – specifically the role of the media. You’d studied for this, you’ve studied with Natasha for this. Sure, the question on Zizek’s death drive might be a bit tricky, but you’re sure she can figure them out – she’s smart, you’ve explained this to her several times.

With that final thought, you began.

The finished “assessments” were dropped off on the long oak desk set in the center front of the lecture hall, the messy collection of hand-written essays balanced precariously on top of each other – not unlike a late-stage Jenga game with a $1500 an hour fee.

Your walk home with Natasha was just as tense as expected, just as silent and robotic as you’d think she would be.

“For what it’s worth,” you said as she opened the door to her homestead. “I think you probably did well.”

Natasha, in all her dismalness, said nothing.

It didn’t take long for her to rid herself of her pants and position herself on her side of the bed with her laptop opened on her stomach and bottle of alcohol opened in her hand.

She furiously refreshed her grade portal exactly once every 10.76 seconds - just long enough for the page to load, her to log back in, see the lack of grade, sigh, take a swig of dessert wine, grimace at the cheap taste of said dessert wine, and refresh the page again once more.

You were sitting next to her on her bed, trying to proofread and edit the day’s biostatistics notes. Mostly you were putting formulas in their proper formatting, redoing graphs, and color-coding headers and vocab – something you did all the time.

Though, now this relatively-easy study technique had become much harder to do than normal because you were doing it one-handed, your non-dominate one resting under the soft, white t-shirt of the anxious redhead – trapped between the heat of her skin and the fabric adorning her body. Occasionally, you’d run your thumb over the knobs of her spine as an act of comfort, but you’re not sure how helpful the gesture is.

Eventually, you tried to reason with her.

“You know the prof said he’d have them by 8:30 tonight and it’s…” you checked the small clock in the corner of her laptop screen. “Five. Fifteen. And fifteen, sixteen…why do you have the seconds showing on your clock?”

Natasha sighed before taking a particularly long drink of the overly sweet alcohol. “I just…” she shrugged. “I’m just super worried about this, okay? I don’t want to do poorly on this assessment. It’s just important to me.”

You nodded silently before you closed your designated biostatistics notebook, placed it under the nightstand, and curled up into your lover’s side. You were wearing a light pink sweater with a matching headband, black cotton panties, and fuzzy white socks. Natasha placed her face into your shoulder and inhaled the complementary, flowery scents of your deodorant and body wash, pressing her skin into the comforting fabric.

“I get it,” you told her. “You want to do well. Do you want a distraction, or…?”

Natasha sighed, shut her laptop, and pushed it to the carpeted floor. “I don’t even know. I feel like if I don’t think about it then I don’t care and then I’m gonna fail because the magical almighty karma I’ve delicately balanced will tumble on top of me like a Jenga tower.”

For a moment you didn’t speak, unable to find the precise verbal response to such a poetic string of words.

“I just meant ‘do you want some head’ but,” Natasha moved to laugh into your shoulder as you tried to finish your thought through your own giggles. “Yeah, that works, too.”

As you both barked laughter into each other’s skin, all the worries that had surrounded her halo of deep red hair seemed to have vanished, dispersed to bother some other college student with a lifetime worth of debt on their shoulders. With the corners of her lips and the thick of her cheeks sore from the sudden happiness, Natasha curled herself into your side with her chin where your arms met the rest of your body. As easy as pre-algebra, your hand found its way through her stress-mused hair and your fingers worked out some of the knots that have found themselves a home atop Natasha’s head.

It’s silent, the only sound in Natasha’s ears the lazy thump, thump, thump of your heart and the occasional rustle of covers as your legs became entangled like the complicated French braids you’d put in other girl’s hair on the rare occasions your mother let you sleep over at a friend’s house. One of the rare childhood memories you don’t need a therapist’s house to reconcile, a smile spred across your face as you remember how your thin, nimble fingers became worth more than gold to the group of long-haired twelve year-olds who couldn’t quite emulate the fanciful hairstyles they found in American Girl magazine.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” Natasha asked as she ran her fingers over the seam of your sweater.

You shrugged – carefully, as not to displace her head. You said nothing.

Natasha prodded. Whether it was to take her mind off the impending doom of the surprise grade or because she was curious, you didn’t care. “C’mon, you know you can tell me anything, right? Just tell me what you were laughing at!”

Again, you shrugged. “I don’t know, middle school I guess.”

She grimaced, you could feel her scrunched nose even through the thick fabric. “Ugh, middle school. What’s so funny about the worst three years of your life?”

“I had worse years,” you told her honestly. “Had a few good times, is all. Was thinking about the dumb shit I liked and did.”

Natasha immediately pushed herself up, wide eyes bearing into yours. “You, the sweetest and most innocent and wonderful nerd this university has ever known did dumb shit?”

Before you could respond she was pushing into you, bouncing you against the pillows under your back with reckless abandon.

“Tell me!” She nearly screamed. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tellmetellmetellmetellme!”

You were laughing much too hard to fight her off, simply pushed at her with weak hands ad you hoped the much stronger woman would let up. “Give me as second to breathe and I’ll tell you!”

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, face hurting from such pure happiness.

“My mother was super overprotective and overbearing, but every once and awhile she’d let me go to a sleepover. And I figured out if I could do intricate braids all the girls would want to be my friend, and some of them turned out to be super nice,” you tried to calm your mouse-like heartbeat with deep breathes to no avail. “I was just thinking of those good times.”

“That was a lot more tender than I expected,” Natasha admitted with a huff before she fell onto your chest once more. “I thought you were gonna tell me you like, did drugs or something, like sneaking out at night or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, your hand resuming its position in her hair. “Nah, I’ve been this way my whole life.”

A beat passed after Natasha released a small humpf and resigned herself to cuddling with someone she would barely hesitate to call “boring.”

You’re the one to fill the silence, hoping to bridge the space between the versions of you Natasha does and does not have the (dis)pleasure of knowing. “You know, you’ve never told me about what you were like before college.”

Natasha shrugged, as she knew what to say but not how to say it. “I don’t know. I wasn’t like, cool or anything. Just super depressed and spent a lot of time doing drugs and coding.”

In a move incredibly unexpected, you touched the pad of your first finger to her nose. Natasha, struck by the sudden intimate contact and your undeniable cuteness, did not know what to do.

“It sounds like you were as boring as me,” you giggled. “Just a lot less sober.”

Natasha let out a small laugh, pushing your hand away. “Boring is a good word,” she mumbles. She’s staring off into space now, thinking about how much that time in her life sucked. Once she skipped school for three days straight to take Adderal and snort coke and hack into a nearby tech startup, a CEO of which had groped a friend of hers at a party a few weeks prior. A few years older and she might have been a member of Anonymous, but instead she was stuck in the basement of her house wishing whatever upper she’d bought from that sketchy kid down the street would kill her.

“Babe,” you said with a low voice. It cut through the thick of her thoughts but didn’t free her from their deathly grasp. “You okay? You need anything?”

Nat visibly snapped out of it, turning back to you with a small smile. “Yeah, I’m,” she exhales deeply. “I’m fine.

She flicked your bottom lip with her thumb and stared at your face with focus you’ve only seen painting her features when she’s typing code or working out the kinks of a program or whatever the fuck it is she does. You’re normally too distracted staring at her to fully process her long-winded explanation of what she does for her internship and classes and job.

She’s too pretty, you couldn’t help it.

“You have the softest lips I’ve ever felt,” Natasha mumbled. Her eyes skipped between your glassy eyes and shallow breaths. “Somehow, every day I find myself more and more enamored by you.”

A lump – in the time Natasha had spoken those first and last words – had formed and lodged itself in your throat. Still, you attempt to find your post-verbal footing in your shared affections.

“That’s the sweetest and most sexually charged thing anyone has ever said to me.”

The pair of you immediately fall into a fit of giggles that has both of your bellies and cheeks aching with pure joy that comes from such a statement. Soon your fit of laughter dies down and a quiet settles over you, one that comforts rather than urks you. It’s a canyon’s worth of time later that Natasha moves back up so your faces are nearly touching.

The kiss she gives you is tender, much more so than any other touch she’d graced you with. It’s not so much a surprise – it’s not as if you had never kissed before – but it is…different.

Your hands are still tangled in Natasha’s shirt, and hers have found themselves on either side of your face.

“This,” she only speaks when you pull away to breathe. “Is an excellent distraction, by the way.”

Again, you release a small giggle that is soon silenced with kisses that soon turn deep and desperate as she pushes you down further into the shitty mattress with her now-displaced hands.

But, as your kisses get keeps and her hands travel South, Natasha takes a moment to come up lay small pecks on your cheeks and nose.

A few moments pass with the pair of you gazing into each other’s eyes as if there were complicated algorithms behind them.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” she asks – whispering low as if you’re some feral cat she’s trying to trap…or maybe something less morbid. You should probably stop thinking any person trying to give you affection is doing it to ensnare you in a complicated plot for more views on their Snapchat story. Still, as Natasha pushes herself up to kiss you – you can hear the guffaws of the popular senior girls from beyond the bathroom stall you cried in.

“Baby,” Natasha’s voice cut through the memory in jagged motions, enough so that your eyes aren’t screwed shut but your hand still feel the cold of the stall door’s nearly-broken lock that keeps said door closed – the only barrier between you and your tormentors.

“Baby, are you okay?” her voice was genuinely concerned – and the lack of ulterior motive had you sobbing. “C’mon,” Natasha held you close, pressed to her and her soft shirt. “Baby, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

It’s hard to do anything but cry – loudly – as she pets your hair and peppers your face with kisses. Her smooth voice is calming, almost enough to stop the tears from soaking your cheeks – but each trauma from elementary to high school still cut into your blurry vision.

You don’t know exactly when you’re able to stop the flow of tears, but it seems to culminate with your eyelids fluttering shut and body slumping against the woman who holds you so tight.

This, Natasha thought to herself, is heaven.

The woman stayed awake for a little longer, wanting to savor the sweet moment a little longer.

Still, the darkness with your steady breathing and blissfully warm skin soon coaxed her into falling into a sleep deeper and calmer than anything she’d ever experienced before. Somehow, she didn’t even shoot awake when her laptop PINGed when her grade updated. But, then again, how could anything like that matter when she had you?

//

@stuckys-whore​

[jojo-reader-hell]

if requests are open,,,,,,, Blease,,, I need formaggio as an older brother to a little sister who's 17 and almost as fucking chaotic as he is,,,,,,, I'm DIE

YAAAAAAAAAS FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m living for all of us wanting big brothers! And I love stinky cheese man, so I hope you enjoy this little thing I had on my mind whilst doing the dishes at work!

...

Formaggio was lucky...

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!”

Crying echoed throughout the streets of Napoli. If he hadn’t decided on a whim to take the alley, he would have been too late.

“Shut your yap whore!”

He was running. The crying was getting louder. Nearly tripping over his own feet. He could hear the screams, they were yours. There was no mistaking that voice. Hothead that you were, you wanted more than anything to escape the hellhole that was the family home, even if it meant joining him in his life of debauchery. You’d used that exact word. Like he simply picked pockets on Sundays.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!”

It wasn’t easy to keep you away. After he stopped sending letters he thought you would give up. You used to follow him, screaming and carrying on in a fit when he finally had to drag you back home, could still feel the pain on his knees where you would kick at him. Of course being your big brother, Formaggio could easily outrun you if need be. Yet that didn’t make it any easier. He still died inside any time he had to go. It was easier to be a check in the mail for you to cash, that way your parents wouldn’t drink up the money. As much as he wanted to save you from that den of squalor he knew there wasn’t any way they’d let a teenage girl without a Stand into Passione. There was no work to be had for a young lady... well, that was a lie. There was always work in the mafia for everyone.

But he could never do that to you. Couldn’t live with himself if he allowed them to dress you in the shortest dress they could find, painting you like a clown with ruby lipstick and purple eyeshadow, eventually auctioning you off to the oldest and horniest creepy bastard that would inevitably be the highest bidder. Seventeen year olds could yield a pretty price in Passione...

“I promise not to hurt you if you stop screaming~...”

“GET OFF! LIKE YOU’LL HURT ME WITH THAT NEEDLE DICK!”

“... what the fuck did you just tell me?!”

Formaggio heard the contact of a hand on skin, heard you yelp, the crumple of your body hitting the pavement. And the crying... That mother fucker who got you wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. Whoever it was, he was going to kill him. Cut his balls off and shove them down his throat for touching his baby sister. Yet as much as he was keyed up to make a kill, he found himself freezing when he saw the pink aura surrounding you. Your mouth was closed, you weren’t the one crying like a baby.

“I SAID YOU HAVE A NEEDLE DICK! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT AGAIN?! I WILL!”

“You’re going to regret this you slut-!”

“NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK-!”

You screamed like a five year old throwing a tantrum, the crying turning into a shrill scream that made Formaggio clap his hands over his ears. Through the caterwauling he could hear another’s screams joining that of the Stand that was howling over your hunched form. The one that had been trying to take your innocence had blood soaking through the front of his pants, cupping his crotch and screaming in agony as you chanted your childish insults at him, the Stand holding out her hands in front of her and echoing his screams.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

He had to have gone deaf temporarily, it seemed like it would never stop, until you stood and threw your hands forward and sent the bastard flying. Eventually the Stand’s screams died down, breaking from a banshee’s shrieks to shallow gasps for breath. Like she’d run a marathon...

“Oh god dammit!” You growled at her, “You’re going to be alright!”

You snapped your head around when your brother called your name, screaming for him as the Stand crumpled in a heap on the dirty street.

“You FUCKHEAD!” You whined, tackling Formaggio.

“Stupida!” He screamed back at you, “What the fuck are you doing here huh?! You trying to get yourself killed?! You could have been somebody’s bitch if I hadn’t been walking this way! You fucking retarded?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stupida! STUPIDA!”

You both began slapping and punching at one another, your brother choking up as he demanded answers. You were so stupid... he could have lost you forever... you could have been hurt... he would have never... ever... EVER forgiven himself...

A sniffle breaks up the tearful reunion. He’d forgotten about the Stand that had protected you, and now that he was able to focus and get a better look, he noticed she seemed oddly familiar to him. Rather small, looked like a porcelain doll with long bangs covering the top of her face, only leaving her plump lips exposed as she bit them. She wrung her hands, making a clacking noise as her long two toned hair shook back and forth.

“What the fuck...” he muttered under his breath.

“I don’t know where she came from or who she is...” you insisted, “But she keeps following me and she won’t leave me alone... can ghosts interact with people?? She... she’s been helping me find you.”

“Uuuughuuu... ughhwaa...”

Her voice was strangely garbled, like she was being drowned under water. Now that he got a good look at you, he noticed your eyes didn’t mirror his own anymore. The pupils were enlarging, beginning to take over the iris and sclera as the Stand kept wringing her hands.

“Stop it Cry Baby!” You cried. “You’re alright! They didn’t even hit you, I’m the one that got punched!”

You rubbed an angry spot on your cheek, making yourself and the Stand, Cry Baby, flinch. She hiccuped, saliva running down her lips as your eyes began to water.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warned.

“Uuuughwaaah... Waaah... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Her howling before was nothing compared to this, and evidently she had complete control over your emotions as well. You started in on the water works like Formaggio had never seen before, hiccuping and wailing as though you were an infant. He couldn’t do much to help... it was all too much... it was hard feeling so helpless...

“WAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! AAAAAAAUGH!! Mmmm.... Mwuuuugh??”

Cry Baby stopped just as suddenly as she started. It had to have been instinct... There was no other way... no other explanation for Little Feet to be rocking the Stand in his arms, nuzzling Cry Baby as her screaming began to die down, your tears drying up with hers as she stuck a thumb in her mouth, whimpering and letting herself be rocked gently back and fourth, back and fourth.

There was no place for a teenage girl in Passione, but maybe... Formaggio thought, just maybe, there might be room for a Stand User with an ability such as this.

[vannahfanfics]

The First Time Babysitting

Category: Family Fluff

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Gaara, Kankuro, Temari, and Shikadai Nara

Gaara sat cross-legged on the floor of his sister's home, smiling slightly as he watched his eight-month-old nephew sprawled out on his belly fervently coloring in a coloring book. The boy still hadn’t grasped the concept of staying in the lines yet, but any time he grabbed the book and held it up for his young uncle to see, Gaara made a point to act as if it were the greatest work of art he had ever clapped eyes on. Shikadai would giggle excitedly and then resume working with gusto. I can’t believe he’s almost a year old already, the Kazekage thought with a small sigh. Next thing you know, I’ll be old…

“Hey, squirt, throw some blue in there,” Kankuro called to the child with a small smirk. His elder brother, and his advisor, was stretched out on the couch with one leg up and his hands behind his head, watching the little boy in amusement. Shikadai blinked up at him, glanced down at his pile of crayons, and stared thoughtfully at them before grabbing the blue one and holding it up to his other uncle. “Yeah. That one!” Kankuro affirmed, and Shikadai grinned before scribbling madly all over the depiction of a puppy he was currently filling in.

“Ugh, I can’t believe this!” came an irritated cry from the kitchen. Gaara and Kankuro both turned as their sister Temari walked into the room wearing an annoyed expression. “Guys, I’m sorry, but I just realized that there were a few things that I left off the shopping list for dinner tonight. You don’t mind hanging out here while I go get them, do you?”

“Nope. Means I can catch a nap,” Kankuro mused and promptly rolled onto his side to face the back of the couch. Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly as Temari walked across the room and leaned down to pick up Shikadai.

“Come on, you’re going to go shopping with Mommy,” she sighed as she lifted the boy into her arms and squatted down to begin cleaning up his coloring workspace.

“Temari, you don’t have to take him. Kankuro and I can watch him,” Gaara offered. Part of him was just being polite, but another part of him really hoped that she agreed; even though Shikadai was already eight months old, he had never actually babysat his nephew for any extensive amount of time. At his brother's offer, Kankuro made a choking sound and abruptly say up with wide eyes. Temari narrowed hers.

“Are you sure?” She asked, her expression betraying hesitation. “I’ll be gone for an hour or two, and Shikadai is a handful sometimes…”

“If I can handle leading the Allied Shinobi Forces to war, I can handle babysitting a toddler,” he frowned up at her. Kankuro whined loudly and flopped back into the couch cushions, but made no move to openly object. Temari glanced down at her precious baby, weighing the options, then nodded and stopped down to set Shikadai back down onto the rug.

“All right. Let me get my things together, and I’ll explain what you need to do,” she agreed and walked out of the room. Gaara smiled at his young nephew and reached out to gently poke him in the forehead.

“Looks like you and I are going to be getting to know each other better.” He grimaced and hurriedly withdrew his hand as Shikadai clamped his mouth on his index finger; slightly disgusted, Gaara wiped off the baby's saliva on his hand while Kankuro snorted with laughter.

About fifteen minutes later, Shikadai was sitting in a high chair banging a plastic spoon around while the two brothers stood with their sister in the doorway.

“Okay. Make sure he eats all of this. He’s picky, so it may take a while,” Temari instructed as she held a jar of baby food out to them. Gaara took it with a nod. “Are you sure you guys don’t need me to explain how to change a diaper again?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“Come on, Temari, it’s not that hard. We can do it,” Kankuro frowned as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked doubtfully at the toddler. Temari sniffed, but did not refute him.

“He shouldn’t want to take a nap until after I get back, but on the off chance he does get tired, he usually likes a lullaby before you lay him down into the crib,” she added with a fretful look at Shikadai. He heard Kankuro mutter, “I am not singing to that brat.” “Make sure not to feed him too fast, he may get a stomachache. If he does, I have medicine-"

“Temari,” Gaara interjected with a small smile. “We'll take care of him. Promise. Leave it to us.” Temari blinked at him, then sighed deeply and nodded slowly. Then, with a small wave to her child, she bowed her head to her brothers and exited the house. Gaara closed the door after her, and turned to look at his nephew, who had begun screaming and bouncing in his high chair.

“What have you gotten us into?” Kankuro groaned, then hastily ducked as Shikadai flung the spoon at the front door. The boy laughed hysterically as the utensil landed into Kankuro's brown hair. Gaara smiled and clapped his brother on the back before gripping the jar of baby food and proceeding into the kitchen. Kankuro cursed before following after him with the spoon.

“Okay, Shikadai, it’s time to eat,” Gaara said as he opened the tiny jar and retrieved the spoon from his brother. He scooped up a small spoonful of the party substance and held it to Shikadai's mouth. The boy blinked, then abruptly cried out and flung the spoon away. Gaara jumped as pureed peas and carrots splattered across his face and into his hair. Kankuro blinked, then fell to the floor in a hysterical fit of laughter, while Gaara sighed deeply and cleaned off his face with a napkin. “Shikadai. You have to eat this. Your mother said so,” he frowned and tried again. This time, Shikadai flung the spoon into Kankuro's face, which made him feel slightly better about the whole situation.

“Oh, come on, you little brat,” Kankuro frowned as he wiped his face off with a black sleeve. Snatching the jar and spoon from Gaara, he scooped up the baby food and held it out, but far enough out of Shikadai's reach that it would not be flung a third time. The baby stuck out his tongue before turning his nose up at it.

“I think we have to convince him it’s good,” Gaara frowned.

“What? Ugh, fine,” Kankuro grumbled before chomping down on the spoon. Gaara raised an eyebrow as a visible shudder ran from his brother's toes to the tip of his hair, but to his credit, he swallowed and forced a smile. “See, it’s good. Now eat it,” he huffed and tried again. Shikadai stared at it thoughtfully before inching forward and opening his mouth obediently. Laughing lightly, Kankuro put the spoon in his waiting mouth, and Shikadai ate it and smacked his lips together, a little bit of the baby food leaking out of his mouth.

“Well, that’s a start,” Gaara sighed as Shikadai looked expectantly up at Kankuro and opened his mouth again.

“Yeah. It’s kinda cute,” Kankuro smiled lightly and spooned more of the mixture into the baby's mouth. After that, it was quite easy to get Shikadai to finish off the jar, and after cleaning up the toddler’s face they brought him back into the living room and set him down on the rug. “Now what?” Kankuro blinked as they both stared down at the baby, who was sitting on his behind staring right back at them. They both cried out in alarm as he abruptly began to wail.

“Ah! What’s wrong with him?” Gaara cried.

“Don’t ask me!” Kankuro yelled back. Shikadai raised his hands to his eyes as he cried harder, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

“Waaaaaah! Maaaamaaaaa!” he sobbed.

“Eh? He wants Temari!” Kankuro realized, then, with a strained smile, he reached out and awkwardly patted Shikadai's head. “Your mom went to the store. She’ll be back soon, Shikadai. Don’t you want to have fun with your uncles?” Shikadai screamed so loud that Gaara’s rang and slapped Kankuro's hand, making his brother scowl and snap his arm back, cradling it against his chest. “What do we do?” he hissed to Gaara.

“Uh… Uh… What do babies like? Oh!” he gasped and covered his face with both hands. “Peek-a-boo!” he cried and revealed his face, leaning forward. Shikadai stopped wailing and stared at him miserably, sniffling with snot running down his face. It’s working. Gaara covered his face again. “Where's Shikadai?” he asked, then uncovered his face and shot forward again. “There he is!” Shikadai jumped, then giggled and waved his arms in excitement. The toddler then turned to Kankuro, who just stared. Gaara nudged him roughly in the ribs with his elbow.

“What? Oh, man. Fine,” he sighed and covered his face. “Wherrrrrre's Shikadai?” he asked, then repeated his brother's actions. “There he is!” Delighted now, Shikadai laughed uncontrollably. Grinning, the two brothers took turns playing peek-a-boo with the little boy until they were both panting from the effort and Shikadai had fallen onto his back and was kicking his stubby feet into the air. Abruptly, they both wrinkled their noses as a foul smell wafted up from the baby's diaper.

“Oh no,” Gaara frowned as he straightened up.

“I guess we have to change it,” Kankuro nodded. They retrieved the diaper bag Temari had left for them and settled Shikadai on his back on the floor, then frowned as they gazed hesitantly down at the task at hand. “Uh. You do it!” his brother cried and thrust the clean diaper at him.

“You’re the older one. You do it,” Gaara shook his head and thrust it back. Despite what he had said to Temari, this seemed to be a much bigger problem than he had anticipated.

“What happened to ‘I led the Allied Shinobi Forces; I can do anything’?” Kankuro shot back in a mocking voice and slammed him in the chest with the diaper. Gaara felt the wind get knocked out of him, and now that his pride was bruised, he glared at Kankuro and snatched the absorbent underpants haughtily and situated himself in front of the cooing baby. He felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face as he tried to recall Temari brief instructions. Okay… First I undo these straps here, he recalled and reached down, pulling off the velcro-like straps that secured the diaper. As it dropped open, both he and Kankuro covered their noses and almost retched.

“What died?!” Kankuro wailed with watery eyes. Gaara steeled his nerves and glanced back down at the soiled diaper, having found a new respect for mothers and his sister, and held his breath as he returned to the task. Quickly, he grabbed Shikadai gently by the ankles and lifted him up to wipe his little behind and replace the soiled diaper. Kankuro quickly wrapped it up and jumped up to dispose of the vile thing into the outside trashcan, while Gaara wrestled with placing the new diaper on his nephew.

“No, stay still,” he huffed as Shikadai started to roll onto his belly. Struggling with the straps, he looked up unconfidently at his brother when he returned, who grabbed Shikadai under the arms to hold him up. They both watched miserably as the diaper fell to the floor with a soft plop.

“Well, that’s not right,” Kankuro sighed. Shikadai blinked at them, and then the brothers cried out in disgust as the little boy suddenly decided that it was a good time to empty his bladder. Looking forlornly down at his wet front, Kankuro laid the boy back down and tried to hold onto the last shred of his patience. “You are as annoying as your father,” he grumbled as he snatched up another diaper and fumbled to put it onto the wriggling child. After a few more tries and another unexpected bath, they managed to produce an acceptable product.

“I never want kids,” Kankuro huffed as he watched Shikadai stack blocks on the living room floor. Gaara pulled at the collar of his uncomfortably wet shirt and nodded in agreement. By the time their clothes had dried, they were wondering where Temari was. Suddenly, Shikadai yawned loudly and looked at them, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Tired,” he mumbled and promptly flopped over onto his side. Gaara sighed and rose to his feet to walk over to the baby and lift him into his arms.

“All right. Let’s get you to bed,” he huffed and stepped gingerly over the scattered blocks to walk to the baby's bedroom. He flipped on the lights and walked over to the crib, laying him gently down onto his back and putting a stuffed animal beside him. Shikadai screamed in protest and launched it at the red-haired man's face. “What? What did I do wrong?” Gaara shouted and picked the boy back up, holding up the crying baby.

“Didn’t Temari say something about a lullaby?” Kankuro called from the doorstep. Gaara glanced back as his older brother walked into the room and took the young boy out of his hands and propped him up on his chest. Frowning awkwardly, he began to bounce slowly back and forth while humming a soft tune under his breath. Shikadai cried for another minute or so, then began to settle down as Kankuro paced the room and hummed louder. Soon enough, the boy was snoring softly with his head propped on Kankuro’s shoulder.

“Whoa. You’re not half bad at this,” Gaara remarked as his elder brother laid the sleeping child down in the crib, then straightened up and stretched his arms over his head to crack his back.

“Jeez, who knew babies were so heavy?” he groaned, then yawned loudly and cracked an eye open to gaze thoughtfully down at their nephew. “… You know, I don’t think having a kid would be half-bad either.” Gaara looked down at Shikadai, with one arm around a stuffed animal and the other held up by his face as his slept soundly.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

Temari cursed under her breath as she propped the bag of groceries against the front door and fumbled for the keys.

“I can’t believe I got carried away talking to Sakura… Those boys must be ready to pull their hair out!” she sighed as she retrieved what she was searching for and unlocked the door. The house was strangely quiet as she entered, and she raised her eyebrows as she walked to the kitchen and set the bag down. She walked into the living room, where the only evidence of her son was the blocks scattered across the floor. She stopped down to collect them in her arms and dump them into the nearby toy chest and then stood, putting her hands on her hips. Where are they?

On a hunch, she walked down the hall and found the door to her son's room closed. She gently turned the doorknob and poked her head inside, and then smiled softly.

Her son was snoring softly in his crib. On the floor, her two brothers were sprawled on their backs, dead to the world. Little fools tried their hardest, didn’t they? She thought as she tip-toed into the room and walked over to the crib. She watched her son sleep for a moment, then leaned down into the crib to press a kiss to his forehead. She straightened up and looked down, then smiled and squatted down beside each of her brothers, kissing them on their cheeks.

“Sleep well, my boys,” she murmured before rising to her feet and exiting the room, quietly shutting the door behind her and walking back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[blehbleehhhh]

Bubble Gum ft. EreMika❣️

A lovely reader requested a super sweet fluffy modern childhood fic that I'm really excited to share! Hope you'll enjoy. ❤️

ps: my mom calls me ladybug, just humor me.

The sun was a blazing fiery ball, twinkling its peak midday golden rays over a small sleepy town and the playground where local children congregate when their parents send them out to play. Titan's Fury Park happens to be one little girl's favorite place of solitude where she can steal away if only for a moment to add drawings to her sketchbook since there are many beautiful places to sit that never fail to inspire a doodle or two. Somewhere in a small group of boys are her two best friends playing a very competitive game of football. Mikasa has witnessed it herself many times, where Eren will rub it in Jean's face that his team had won the game by aggressively throwing the ball into the grass, while Armin sits on the sidelines feeling uninterested in the sport, but he'll keep score as he reads one of the many books off his shelf that's most likely already been read.

The precocious, green eyed boy was instructed by his mother to keep watch over Mikasa, who later stubbornly insisted that Armin and Eren do their own thing since she fully intends to work on filling her sketchbook instead of playing. But one of the local girls who only recently started to pick on her had other plans. "Where's your cute friend?" Annie inquires, blowing a small bubble with pink gum as she stands confidently before the girl sitting cross legged on a bench. Mikasa sighs with irritation, deepening the shading on her closeup tree bark sketch. "Hey, I asked you a question. Look up from your stupid scribble book." But the girl remained strong and ignored how demanding and harsh these words were being spoken to her by such a blunt person, carefully smudging a spot on her sketch with the pad of her pinky. "Excuse you," Annie hisses under her breath obviously feeling impatient as she suddenly grabs Mikasa's long hair with a truly evil grin. "You know, you really have such beautiful hair. It would be a shame if you had to cut it." Her victim frowned and reached for her hair only to have it painfully tugged in retaliation, making her whine in discomfort as she holds her scalp protectively.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that, because I'm not cutting it."

"Uh-huh, where's Eren?"

"I don't know!" Mikasa rushes to say as her hair is tugged once more. "Why?!"

"Because I think he's cute and I want you to talk to him. Aren't you his sister or something?"

"Not by blood..."

"Tell him that Annie thinks he's cute."

"Can't you do that yourself?!"

"It would be so much more fun to see you do it. And if you don't, I'll destroy your sketchbook."

"Fine..." Mikasa reluctantly agrees, shyly darting her eyes from Annie's stoic expression. "I'll talk to him later."

"Thanks." Annie smiles as she spits her gum out on her hand and smushed it with raven hair, rolling the wad around between her hands to mix everything together. She snickers to herself as she walks away, leaving Mikasa with stinging eyes and a quivering bottom lip already feeling humiliated to the point where her cheeks and the tips of her ears felt hot. It was with a heavy heart that she gathers her belongings and holds them to her chest as she takes off running in search of Eren, the one who she always has and always will turn to in stressful situations.

Eren was found playing football with his friends like she anticipated, but he's currently on the ground after being tackled aggressively by Reiner and Jean for the ball. Armin cheers for his friend from the sidelines while Bertolt, Marco, and Connie watch intently to learn the final score of their fourth game. "HA! I GOT THE BALL! CONNIE! CATCH!" Jean roars with laughter, cackling triumphantly as he rushes to throw the ball at Marco not far away to finish the game in their favor.

Until they heard truly hysterical crying.

"ERENN!" Mikasa cries, her voice wailing his name at the top of her lungs as tears streamed down her face. He immediately sits up from where he was laying in the grass recovering after being tackled so aggressively and his heart sunk to see her so distraught.

"What?! What?!" Eren hurried to his feet and stumbled a step as he runs to embrace her. "What happened?! Why are you crying?!" She looks up to meet his concerned and inquiring gaze with watery eyes, her tears making him cloudy until she blinks them away.

"Someone was mean to me and and -" She coughs suddenly from crying, making her cheeks even hotter with embarrassment. I don't want all this attention! Her foot stomps angrily. "She put gum in my hair!" Dreading the consequences of Annie's actions, Mikasa bursts into tears because she knows that she needs to have this obnoxiously large wad of gum cut from her hair, when she happens to love how long it's grown to barely above the waistline of her long skirt. Eren's blood boils with anger and the look in his eyes is one that only someone close to him would recognize. It somehow made her cry even more to feel validated that what happened was indeed a horrible thing. He sighs deeply to keep his cool and studies at the wad of gum in her hair, holding it carefully in his hand.

"Who did this do you?"

"It-" She sniffles and takes in a few involuntary breaths as her body tries to settle itself, his fingers releasing her gummy hair. "It was Annie. She was telling me to tell you that she thinks you're cute, when she just squished her gum in my hair!" The embarrassed little girl sighed with sorrow as her best friend wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently brought her in for a hug, letting her cry into his shirt. He glanced up at Jean, who just gave an understanding nod to let him know that it was more than okay for him to skip out.

"Figures," Eren sighed as he rests a hand on the top of her head the way his mother comforts them at home. "Annie asked me the other day if I liked her and I think she meant the like like way, so now she won't leave me alone," He maintains an arm around her shoulder and gives a small wave at his friends while they go over the score together and rehydrate. "Come on, Mika, I'll take you home."

"But I want you to stay here. I can walk home by myself..."

"I know you can, but I want to be there for you when you're, like, sad and bummed out. Those guys understand."

"But why?" Mikasa's voice was soft and her breathing has already begun to settle much to his relief.

"Because you're my best friend and I really really hate seeing you anything but smiling. It's beautiful," Eren smiles at first until he realized what he said, and it make him chuckle awkwardly. "I mean you're beautiful. I-I mean.." But it was too late. His slip of the tongue has already made her giggle amidst her soft sniffling as she wipes the tears staining  her cheeks with her fingers. He swallows hard and his face grows hot, but her laugh always makes him smile. No matter what. "Never mind." She tucks her hair behind her ear and plays with her fingers anxiously.

"You're so funny, Eren.."

"I wasn't really trying to be funny, but thank you." He chuckled as they came up behind his mother outside while she was gardening, who did a double take and immediately dropped her tools in the flowerbed, running over to Mikasa terribly concerned. "Hi, Momma, someone was mean to Miki and put gum in her hair."

"This will never come out!" Mikasa whines, stomping her feet in the grass as she looks down at the wad of gum and hair, trying desperately to untangle the gooey mess with her little fingers to no avail. Carla frowns as she carefully takes the girl's hands in hers and holds them while Eren wipes tears from beneath her eyes. "Aunt Carla, I don't wanna cut it!"

"Mikasa, I'm so sorry.." Carla opens her arms to offer a hug that was happily taken. "This does need to be cut out, ladybug, but it'll be alright. Your hair will grow out before you know it, I promise." She gently pats the little girl's back before pulling away to stand up, offering her hands for both children to take as they followed her inside the house. "Why don't you two wait for me by the sink so I can find a pair of scissors?" She says as they enter the kitchen, their little hands departing from hers while they run to the sink together and little sneakers squeak on the hardwoods. Carla soon comes over with scissors in her hand and a sad look on her face because she has to cut these beautiful raven locks. Mikasa sighs softly as the scissors were positioned to cut above the gummy mush. "Hold still, okay?" Raven hair drops silently on the kitchen floor as the scissors slowly work their way around her head, leaving her with just as luscious shoulder length hair. "You cutie pie, look at you!" Carla smiles as she sets the scissors on the counter and carefully runs her fingers through Mikasa's hair to make certain all of the gum has been removed. The little girl offers a small smile in return as she wipes her tears from beneath her eyes.

"It actually feels good to have my hair cut.."

"I'm so glad that you like it."

"Thank you for fixing my hair. Eren was right, you do have super powers."

"Mikasa!"

"Oh, my sweet baby boy," Carla laughs and brings the embarrassed child in to plant a kiss on his forehead and ruffle his hair. "You’re in desperate need of a haircut as well, but I can take care of that later. Why don't you take Mikasa back to the playground?"

"Will you take me?" The little girl turns to her friend with a hopeful look and he simply grins.

"Will you smile for me?"

"Okay.." Mikasa smiles and found her cheeks to be hot when his face immediately lights up in response. Before she knew it, his hand was in hers and they were well on their way back to the park. It was still hot outside from the midday sun, its blinding rays invading their vision frequently, but Eren still manages to spot blue wildflowers growing along the sidewalk. He stops and his heart races as he picks the flower for her while she's far enough ahead not to notice. "Eren? Where are you?" She hollers, turning in a slow circle to see him running up to her.

"Sorry! I'm right here!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Eren smiles as his ears grew hot, twisting the tiny flower stem with his fingers behind his back. "I'm great. Are you okay?" He asks as they start walking once more, the park in clear distance.

"I'm..I'm good. Your momma is so nice."

"She's pretty cool, but so is your momma. And your dad is so funny."

"Yeah, he is. Your dad is silly, too." Mikasa giggles, her sneaker kicking a rock out from her path. "I know you're angry at yourself for not being there and I just wanted to say that you don't need to be so hard on yourself. It makes me sad."

"Yeah, well, it's true. I'm sorry Annie is so mean to you now."

"I think she's jealous that you and I are so close."

"Probably, but who needs her? You're way cooler than Annie anyway." Eren smiles, her giggle gracing his ears once more as they make their way to the swing set. She sits gracefully on a swing and he takes the one beside her, still twirling the blue flower he picked for her between his fingers. "Mikasa?" He turns to look at her and swallows hard to gather his nerve.

"Hm?"

"I...I like your hair short," He smiles shyly and they both blush as he scoots his swing closer to hers. "I mean, I like it long, too, but you look really pretty with it short." She grins, his hand raising hesitantly to push hair behind her ear and gently tucked the flower in that gap. But then, Mikasa did something he hadn't ever anticipated her doing and leaned in, clearly feeling slightly unsure as she kisses his blushing cheek.

"Thank you, Eren.."

"You're welcome," He smiles as their swings separate and stands up so he can be behind her. "Can I give you a push?"

"Yeah!" She says excitedly as her legs kick the air.

"Okay," Eren laughs in amusement as he pulls her swing back and pushes her forward. "Here we go!" She giggles as she's pushed, and he can't help but think about how cute she is no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

"Push me higher, Eren! Push me higher!"

"Anything to hear your laugh again." And with that he gives a harder push to her lower back, making the swing soar even higher. She cheers in excitement and giggles as her short raven hair blows in the breeze, holding the blue wildflower safely in her hand against the swing chain so it doesn't get lost. They remained this way for a while, just enjoying each other's company and sharing many laughs knowing that there will be more in the future.