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w2sology · 7 months

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morning scrunches, harry lewis.

summary: mornings with harry and baby bog

warnings: girldad!harry, cuteness overload!!!

waking up besides harry had quickly become one of your favourite things ever since the two of you began dating. his face being the first that you saw everyday was just so refreshing and bought you so much comfort.

today was no different, your hand naturally coming up to caress the side of your boyfriend's face as he slept peacefully. before you'd gone to bed, your head was on harry's chest but now, it seems the roles had reversed and harry's head was now on your chest, his arms wrapped securely around your body.

turning to the bedside table on your side, you checked the baby monitor, seeing your baby girl was still asleep.

using that as an excuse for a couple more minutes of cuddles, you inched closer to harry, feeling him readjust his head on your chest.

a few moments after, you heard harry groan, waking himself up after a good night's sleep. and like he did every morning, he searched for you, smiling through tired eyes once he found your beautiful face.

"morning, love," he rasped, kissing your cheek.

"morning, babe."

now that harry was up, you checked the baby monitor again, seeing your little sleeping beauty was wide awake, just feeling rather quiet this morning.

"d'you want me to go get her?" harry asked.

"no, it's alright, i'll get her."

the two of you often took it in turns to do the morning shifts, as you called them. one of you would tend to your baby and settle her down or get her ready for the day, whilst the other got to breakfast and making sure the rest of you were ready for the day.

walking to the nursery, you outwardly awed at the sight of your little bundle of joy, picking her out of her cot. the newborn scrunch was something you absolutely adored and would definitely miss as she got older.

"hello, my precious girl!" you cooed as she smiled a gummy smile, reaching for your face as you held her near you. "let's go say morning to daddy, hm?"

the first time you say harry interact with your daughter, you almost gave him another. he was such a natural with babies, people were surprised to find out he head a mild feat of them.

walking back to your bedroom, you saw harry had moved positions, his body now sat up against the headboard as the sheets rested around his waist, exposing his naked upper body.

he put his phone down as soon as he saw you and your daughter walk into the room, smiling so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"look who's awake," he gushed as you handed her over to him, sitting right besides him. resting your chin on harry's shoulder, you watched how he interacted with your daughter, your heart swelling at the sight.

he kissed both her cheeks, watching as she squirmed and smiled at her dad's touch, her small hand holding his finger, grasping so tight as if it was all she knew.

"i'm gonna get started on breakfast," you spoke softly to harry, leaving as he nodded and kissed your forehead.

it was actually his turn to make breakfast, but seeing how occupied he was with your little girl, you were sure you could manage another day of making breakfast.

meanwhile, harry spent that time talking to baby girl about everything and nothing, things he did with her uncles lately, how big olive was getting and the playdates that they'd be able to have soon, things he'd seen that reminded him of her mother, how beautiful her mother was... literally rambling to an 8 week old about whatever came to his mind.

"did you know i actually wanted to call you bog? yeah, your mum put a straight end to that dream. you'll still be mini bog to me though," you heard as you came back into the room, laughing to yourself at the almost name of your baby girl.

"breakfast's ready," you mumbled against harry's skin as you kissed his cheek, giving your daughter one too. "oh look, you changed her! she's so adorable, i might cry."

"oh, please don't, you'll set her off again." harry rolled his eyes as you nudged him.

the next few moments were filled with a comfortable silence as your baby glanced between her parents, a serene look on her face.

"can you believe we made her?" you sighed.

"i can believe it, yes, because that's what happens when two people───"

"harry! gosh, i'm trying to be sentimental here." you groaned at his inability to be serious.

he laughed in response to your reaction, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as his other arm was being used to hold the tiny human. "i'm joking, i promise. but i get what you mean. like we're actually parents."

"still feels unreal."

"mhm. but," he said, facing you. "i wouldn't change it for the world."

humming at his words, you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, a hand on his cheek as you stared at him lovingly. "me neither."

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis #harry lewis x reader

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writeforfandoms · 4 months

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Let It Snow

Find my John Price masterlist

This is for @glitterypirateduck winter challenge! I took inspiration from the song Let It Snow, because who wouldn't want to use this man as a source of warmth. Really.

John Price is your neighbor. Just your friendly neighbor. Nothing more.

At least, until the heat in your flat dies.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, sweetness overload, really this is all just cute and fluff.

Word count: 2.5k

You still weren't quite sure how you'd fallen into this thing with John Price. You'd moved in to the flat next to his, the shared wall between the two of you giving you only hints of his life. Mostly, there was silence.

But sometimes there was the rumbling of a deep, lovely voice. Singing. The muted sounds of a TV. Music.

The first time you talked to him, you were coming back from a date that had ended badly. You still weren't sure whether to be angry or upset, and had settled on some potent mixture of the two.

John Price was standing outside, shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows, heedless of the chill of the evening. He nodded once to you, gaze sweeping over you.

“Evening,” he greeted, neutral pleasant.

“Hi.” You managed a smile. “Haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet.” You held out a hand to him, giving him your name.

“John Price.” He shook your hand, firm but not painful. Quick.

“Nice to finally meet you.” You glanced beyond him to your door, the temptation to cry rising as upset won over anger. “Hate to run, but…”

“Of course.” He stepped back, out of the way. “Have a good night.”

You bit your tongue to keep the bitter words trapped, simply nodding to him before stepping past him. Your hands only shook a little as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

You kept your emotions to yourself until you showered, hot as you could stand. Then you allowed yourself some release.

After that, it became much more common to see him, at least when he was home. You passed him frequently when you came home, and once or twice he rescued you by getting the door when you had bags of groceries.

The two of you circled each other, pleasant and friendly and not much else.

Despite his charm, despite his kindness, despite his obvious good looks… you couldn't believe anything more. He was friendly, and that was all. He was neighborly, and that was all.

Even if he was good-looking. Even if the way he looked at you made you both self-conscious and want to preen. Even if you developed a little crush on him despite your best intentions.

And you held on to those thoughts all the way up until your heater broke.

You stood in the middle of your flat, shivering, bundled up in layers and silently cursing the snow outside. And cursing the landlord, who promised he'd get the heater fixed… in a couple days. Three, or maybe four. But you'd be fine, right?

Which left you seething and debating the merits of buying a space heater, if you could find one. It was late in the season, but maybe you'd be lucky…

The knock on your door startled you, and you about jumped out of your skin. Who…? Frowning, you stepped forward slowly, hands trembling from the cold and nerves.

John Price stood outside your door, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.

“John?” You blinked at him. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, might be able to help you.” He scratched at the hair on his jaw, brilliant blue eyes holding you captive as easily as breathing. “Heard something ‘bout your heater through the wall.”

You warmed, ducking your head briefly, even though you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. “Ah. Heard that, huh?” You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, I forget how thin these walls are sometimes.”

“Don't fret,” John assured you. “I'd offer to take a crack at your heater but I might make it worse.”

You smiled, torn between amusement and embarrassment. “It's fine, I think I'll just go find a space heater.”

John paused, not moving from your doorway, one hand hooked at the collar of his shirt, gaze fixed on you. “Or,” he offered slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. “You can stay at mine.”

You blinked. Twice. “...Beg pardon?” You must have misunderstood him. There was no way–

“I've got a second bedroom,” he said, shrugging, like it was nothing. Like it was that easy. “You're welcome to it. Be awful cold without heat.”

You swallowed. That was… a lot. And far too generous. “I couldn't, that's too kind.”

His lips quirked in a smile, the first real one you'd seen from him. “Yes you can,” he countered. “It's just a few days, yeah? Won't bother me, I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You bit your lip, torn. It would be warmer to stay with him, and cheaper. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.” He even nodded for emphasis, holding your gaze.

“Okay.” You breathed in slowly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Gather up whatever you need,” he said, something pleased in the tilt of his lips. “Just knock when you're ready.”

“Thanks.” You waited until he stepped back and turned towards his own door to close your door.

Not that it helped at all with the temperature.

Clenching your jaw and trying not to think about it, you grabbed a bag and some clothes. You weren't going to impose on him any more than necessary - you'd come back to shower and take care of your own things. And you'd be fine at work.

Your first knock on the door was tentative, almost too soft. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, a little anxious. You knew enough about John Price to trust that he wasn't a crazy murderer, or anything like that. He'd always been friendly.

You were mostly sure you could trust him.

The door opened, warmth spilling out over your half-frozen fingers. John had shed his jacket, leaving him in a soft-looking shirt that clung to his chest in ways you tried not to notice.

“C'mon in.” He stepped out of the way, ushering you in. You couldn't help but shiver as the warmth of his flat cocooned you, your skin tingling where it was exposed. “Bedroom's this way.”

You followed him quietly, though you couldn't help but look around curiously. The flat was sparse but clean, walls mostly bare. Simple furniture in the main room, very little decoration.

It felt a little impersonal… except for the book on the couch, the couple dishes in the sink.

John led you back to the bedroom, nodding you inside. The bed was made up all in pale blue, with an extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Honestly, this was better hospitality than you'd gotten from some family members.

“Thank you, really.” You paused in the doorway, still clutching your bag.

He smiled again, easy as anything. “My pleasure. Get warmed up, I've got the kettle on.”

You couldn't help but smile at his retreating back. He was too kind.

It didn't take long to warm up enough to be comfortable, and you even shed a layer to be more comfortable. “Should I keep my shoes on?” You called from the doorway, uncertain. You couldn't recall if he'd been wearing any.

“Nah, leave ‘em.”

You kicked your shoes off but left your socks, padding out to the kitchen to a charmingly domestic scene. John stood with one hip leaned against the counter, mug in one big hand, another steaming gently in front of him. He was also wearing socks, thick gray ones.

“Got milk and sugar, if you'd like.” He nodded to the mug to be clear what he meant.

“Thanks.” You fixed your cuppa and clutched it between your hands, fingers tingly-hot as they finally fully thawed. “Can I at least treat you to dinner?”

He tipped his head down a little, smiling. “Won’t say no to that,” he murmured.

Discussing food was surprisingly easy with him. He seemed happy to go along with whatever you wanted, although true to his word he didn't argue with you about paying.

The first night passed easily, with bits of conversation between the two of you. You caught him looking at you more than once, something soft in his gaze. Like he couldn't believe you were here.

You warmed under that gentle gaze, the little embers you'd tried to smother in your heart catching and trying to grow.

Two days passed in the same kind of ease. His flat was bigger than yours, and set up backwards as far as you were concerned. The second time you opened a door expecting the loo and got the linen closet you swore loudly. John just laughed at you, leading to a round of playful bickering.

(“It's not my fault that this is all backwards!”

“Well perhaps if you looked before you opened the door you'd realize it was on the wrong side.”

“Perhaps if this place was oriented correctly I wouldn't have to.”)

The two of you got along quite well, better than you'd expected. Better than you'd ever hoped. The ease with which the two of you conversed fanned the little flames secreted in your heart.

The fourth morning was clear and cold, faint light coming through the window in your room. You dressed, even more glad to be in John's nice warm flat when a perfunctory look out the window showed snow still falling.

“Morning,” John greeted you, flashing you a smile, hair still a little rumpled from sleep. You tried not to be charmed.

(It didn't work, you were hopelessly charmed by him.)

“Good morning.” You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. “How long have you been up?”

“Couple hours. Tea?”

You hummed your assent, though you drifted to the kitchen window to look outside. Snow drifted down in fat flakes, languidly coating the world in white. “How long has it been coming down?”

“Started in the middle of the night.” John pulled out the mug you were beginning to think of as yours. “Don't have to go anywhere today, do you?”

“Fortunately, no.” You shivered at the thought of having to go out in the cold. You kind of hated when it got this cold - the snow was pretty but ice made for treacherous commutes to work. “You?”

“No.” The mug clinked as he set it next to you. “Got everything I need here.”

You turned, just catching the tail end of his teasing little smile as he stepped back. You blinked at him but didn't push, not quite sure if you wanted to know.

Tea was perfect to keep you warm, and you settled near John. He shifted enough to press his knee to yours, and you just relaxed into it.

He'd gotten you used to little touches over the last few days, and you didn't quite want to admit how much you loved it.

“Care to make a day of it, then?”

You blinked at John, curious. “What do you have in mind?”

“We could watch that movie you've been wanting to watch.” John's lips twitched in amusement. “More tea. Order in for lunch.”

“You're going to spoil me,” you teased, although you were only half teasing.

“Only if I'm doing it right.” He smirked, watching you as you ducked your head, fiddling with your mug.

“You don't have to, you know.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gripping your mug a little tighter so you wouldn't fidget with it.

“What if I want to?” He tipped his head a little, watching you, blue eyes intense.

You warmed under that look but resisted the urge to hide. “Well… that would be a different story.”

Emboldened by your reaction, John moved closer, his thigh now pressed against the length of yours. “I'd like to spoil you for longer than just the few days it takes to get your heater fixed.”

“Would you really?” You blinked at him, a little incredulous and a fair bit flattered.

“I would.” One of his hands landed over yours, big and warm and calloused. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed. Part of you wanted to say yes, wanted to bask in the warmth of him, wanted to give in. But you were scared. There were so many things that could go wrong…

“I don't know,” you whispered, your fingers curling under John's. “I could try.”

“That's all I ask.” He leaned a little closer to you, so close he could probably feel the thump of your heart. “Just need to talk to me, hm? Tell me if anything is too much.”

You nodded, swallowing, eyes wide as he held your gaze. “Okay.”

“Good.” He backed off again, slowly pushing to his feet. “Go get the movie set up, I've got tea handled.”

You blinked, feeling almost bereft as he stepped away. But you shook the feeling off, instead going to the couch to set up the movie.

It only occurred to you long minutes later, when John brought your tea fixed how you liked, that you'd gotten very comfortable here very quickly. But so had John. He'd learned your preferences faster than you'd expected.

“Warm enough?” He asked, voice a low purr as he settled next to you.

“Yeah,” you answered, which was mostly true. Your feet were chilly, but that was manageable.

He eyed you for a moment, and you had the feeling he knew exactly what you didn't say. But he didn't say a word, just grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over your lap, fussing over you in a way totally foreign to you.

Foreign… but nice.

Halfway through the movie John paused it to discuss lunch. You ended up not ordering in - snow was coming down harder now, a thick coating of white obscuring streets and sidewalks. Neither of you wanted to go out, or force anyone else out.

“We'll find something here,” you said with a shrug, unconcerned. “I've got food at mine, too.”

John hummed, one arm settling around your waist. “Could do cheese toasties.”

“Are you offering to cook for me?” You couldn't help your smile, or the way you leaned in closer to him.

“Can’t make anything fancy,” he murmured, smile small but warm. “But I can do this.”

That smile finally did you in. You kissed him. Nothing more than a brief press of your lips to his, just enough to feel the warmth and pressure, the gentle scratch of facial hair. He looked a little stunned when you pulled back… for all of two seconds. Before he kissed you again, one big hand cupping your cheek.

“Is this okay?” He whispered when he pulled back, scant space between the two of you.

“More than,” you assured him, hands resting against his chest.

He hummed, the sound vibrating against your hands, and kissed you again.

If this is what him spoiling you looked like… Well. You could get used to this.

Even if it kept snowing like this. You weren't worried about being cold anymore.

#john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader #codholiday2023

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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

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hi, <3

I've been working for a week now, so I don't have time to send you ideas, but there are SO MANY in my head.😭😭😭 I do not know what to do!!!I think you've already guessed that I'm in love with Nanami's dad!! He's so cute as the father figure.Imagine that Kento and his wife had their first child (a girl) and when Kento comes home to his daughter and wife, he sees that his daughter is wearing a small bodysuit with the text “I love daddy” and Nanami just looks and is touched. DADNANAMIDADNANAMIDADNANAMI🤤🫦

Okay I cried my eyes out while writing this and the cover sent me over the edge 😭 But THANK YOU SO MUCH for that precious request my love, let me know what you think <3

Nanami's reaction to his daughter wearing a jumper saying "I love daddy"

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x fem!daughter

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: After the incidents of Shibuya and his wife getting severely injured, Nanami is relieved to know his new family safe and sound. A little suprise from his precious wife seems to be enough to make a grown man cry in joy though...

Warnings: cuteness overload, this had me balling in the best way, might be the comfort you need this is canon

This is like a spin-off to the "Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife" fic - just click on it to read it first!

To say the last few months were a trip to heaven and hell at the same time would be an understatement. Despite the horror the Shibuya incident caused, even though the attack of Haruta left both you and your precious baby to risk, you somehow made it all out alive. Kento, you and the little angel of daughter you gave birth to exactly one month after Shibuya.

“I’ll leave in five minutes, regardless of what you have to tell me afterwards”, he sends towards the man in front of him who is asking him for the hundredth time about the Shibuya incident.

Finally, this way too long day is over. A day without seeing you the whole time, a day without his little one by his side. Due to the fact that delivering your baby girl was rather difficult after the severe wound wasn’t healed yet, Shoko prescribed strict bed rest for you within the next few months. You are barely able to stand up on your own, let alone go to the toilet. Most of the time you lay on the couch with your daughter by your side, watching your favourite show on TV until you greet him with the brightest of smiles.

But even though every minor step causes you visible pain and it’s hard for you to be on your own, you insisted on him continuing doing his job. After all, somebody has to take care of poor Yuji when you’re not around. And since Gojo is gone, whole Jujutsu High seems to be an endless mess. Yes, somehow you did eventually convince him of leaving you every single morning. Even though he hates letting go of you after what happened not long ago.

“I will leave now”, he announces before grabbing his suitcase and walking away without waiting for an answer.

In the meantime, it’s hard for you to sit still.

“Come on angel, please hold still for a second. We just need leg number one, leg number two, and…There you go!”

Your eyes almost overflow with joy, just staring at the tiny jumper your daughter wears makes you feel emotional all over again. Kento worked so much these last weeks, making sure that especially Yuji feels better after all those things that happened to him during Shibuya. And the fact that you’ve got severely injured…You’ll never forget the look of horror on his face when you collapsed into his arms, Shoko making it just in time before everything went black. For the split of a second you thought everything is over, that this will be the last time you’ve seen your husband. Oh, how you begged Shoko to save the life of your unborn child instead of yours, how you held onto Kento’s hand for dear life.

But seeing that bundle of joy laying in front of you, giggling happily while kicking her tiny feet in her brand-new jumper…You have to read the words all over again, the simple writing that says “I love daddy”. You were mindlessly scrolling through baby stuff when it caught your attention, thinking about how your beloved husband would react to it. There was absolutely no way out of ordering it.

“Daddy will love to see you in this.”

Just the thought of how Kento will react makes you kick your feet too, smiling down at your giggling daughter. Even though every little movement sends a wave of pain through your entire body, you try to stay as positive as possible. The discomfort will go away eventually, but the joy Kento has gifted you with will stay forever.

You can sense him before he put the key into the lock right away, heart pounding so hard that it feels like jumping out of your body.

“This is out time angel”, you whisper into your daughter’s tiny ear before sitting up and staring at the door in sheer excitement.

Nanami’s heart skips a beat when seeing you, looking so adorable dressed in his way too big t-shirt and sweatpants.

“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

The second he lays his eyes on your flawless face decorated with that breath-taking smile, he is lost all over again. But by now it’s not only you who awaits him. No, next to you curled up on the couch lays the little bundle of joy that makes his happiness complete.

“I’m just so glad your back! How-ah…”

A minor groan escapes your lips as you try to sit up straight, Kento instantly rushing to your side.

“Hey, think about what Shoko said. No need to rush, we have the whole evening for ourselves, darling”, he gently speaks out, his hands caressing your back moderately.

He hasn’t seen it yet, the blanket on top of your daughter hiding the jumper very well from him. But you can’t contain your excitement any longer. For a moment, you’ll have to put your aching aside.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you…”

Your husband tilts his head to the side, a tender smile creeping up his face before he can stop it. You look so utterly excited that he can’t help but wonder what you mean.

“I wonder what leaves you this excited.”

“Well, there aren’t many things apart from you that get me excited”, you reply with a sly grin.

“But maybe you should take a closer look at your daughter.”

Your heartbeat picks up even more as soon as he looks at your precious little angel, hand gently brushing over her tiny cheek. Slowly, he lifts her off the couch, blanket falling down and revealing her new jumper. You hold your breath, your husband’s eyes locked onto her body.

“I love daddy”, he reads out loud.

His smile widens, eyes turning glossy in pure admiration. Oh, how much he adores you, how much he loves you in every single way. Why does he suddenly turn this emotional? Why does the sheer sight of his daughter with a jumper saying “I love daddy” make him tear up? The last months were so rough on him, it was never granted that he’ll be able to hold his daughter like this while you sit next to him. For a few horrible seconds, he thought he lost you both.

But now you’re here. And you really think that he’s a good dad.

“Words can’t express how much that means to me…”, he mumbles, pressing his daughter against his chest and closing his eyes.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you cry love”, you instantly reply while getting up from the couch way too quickly.

Your husband catches you just in time before you fall back onto the couch, his free hand wrapped tightly around your waist while his daughter rests against his shoulder.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, (y/n). And to top it all off, you gifted me this beautiful daughter. You are so strong, I am so proud of everything you have done these last few months.”

His words his you in your feelings with full force. Despite the fact that you are a strong and composed woman, tears start to stream down your face like a waterfall while your gaze never leaves his. God, how much you love that man, how thankful you are for the fact that he survived. And for the bundle of joy that rests against his shoulder. You never thought your life would turn out like this, eventually. A snack of a husband holding you tightly in one hand while carrying your daughter with the other.

“I love you, Kento Nanami. That jumper says nothing but the truth”, you hush lightly.

Oh, Kento will definitely make sure of that.

“I love you too, sweetheart. And you, my little angel.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

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matchingbatbites · 1 month

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settle down (it'll all be clear)

T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie

Read on A03

Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”

“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”

The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”

Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall.

Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.

But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.

Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry.

The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown.

Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”

The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.

A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt.

“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”

The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.

It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”

“Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”

The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”

Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”

“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.

“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”

Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.

“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest.

They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.

Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack.

He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.

Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself.

Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.

Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.

Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work.

At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.

He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.

He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery.

It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.

When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.

“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.

“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.

Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.

Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”

Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”

“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

Eddie wants to go out.

With him.

Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”

He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”

Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”

“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”

“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”

(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #omegaverse #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #joey writes

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caramel-maveeato · 7 months

Text

ᴅᴀʏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: baby fever is in the air… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: So Mun being a husband material ♡ word count: 2k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

“Just one day! One day and I’ll go pick her up as soon as possible!”

“…Fine. You better not leave her to me overnight again.”

A weary sigh slid out of you as your friend hung up. You were now completely left isolated in your living room with her four-month-old, round eyes gluing on you with wonder.

It wasn’t like you disliked kids, you were just unsuited to keep one around when the responsibility and unexpectancy of being a counter were holding a knife to your throat. For example, what if you had to leave her alone for missions when some evil spirits popped up? Maybe you were just letting loose your overthinking habit, but this certain “job” was always full of unforeseen occasions.

However, all uncertainty vanished as there was a pull on the hem of your shirt by small, chubby fingers. You felt your composure peace out at that sunshiny smile and it took you less than one second to haul the infant into your lap, internally collapsing in cuteness overload while texting Hana that you needed to take a day off due to “unpredicted inconvenience.”

You were prepared to spend your peaceful rest day until the sound of your doorbell abruptly chimed in just thirty minutes after you informed your teammate. You picked the sweetheart up and approached the front door, wondering who would possibly be standing in front of your house at 10 a.m. if it wasn’t the delivery man.

Turning the brass doorknob with anticipation, you watched as the door revealed your boyfriend, who was standing under the warm glow of the mid-morning sun. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips, mirroring your own sense of elation at his arrival.

“Hi…” So Mun trailed off upon seeing the bundle of happiness in your arms, paving the way for a vague gasp and a look of pure exhilaration to emerge: “Whose baby is this?!”

“Mine, obviously.” He playfully pulled a face at your words, completely unamused by the apparent lie. You chuckled, explaining: “I ‘stole’ her from a friend. Some urgent family things came up so I’ll be in charge of this cutie until she comes back later. Why are you here, by the way?”

He gave the little girl a tiny wave before turning to you: “Just wanted to check whether or not something happened. Also Ms. Chu said if no evil spirits show up today, I can leave for the rest of the day too.”

As much as you refrained from displaying too-obvious excitement by your boyfriend’s presence, it already appeared crystal clear just how notably happy you‘ve turned: “Let’s hope no third wheeler would interrupt us.”

When a baby was in sight, most people tended to head for the little chubby face before anything else. So Mun was not the exception. He stared at the girl—who was also staring at him without blinking—and carefully extended his index finger: “Can I?”

“Of course!” That was all it took for him to nudge his finger on one of her plump cheeks, smiling widely when the squishiness melted on the tip of his digit like a marshmallow.

“Oh my god!! Look at how soft she is!”

You laughed, enjoying how he went smitten over an infant before taking his hand: “Let’s go, you’re not going to stay outside all day just poking her face, right?”

He followed your footsteps through the living room: “I can if you insist.”

“Luckily I won’t.”

All three of you settled down on the couch. The sweetheart chewed on her tiny thumb while she comfortably nestled on your lap, eyes glistening like two gemstones of fascination in return for the bright smile So Mun gave her. He leaned down to poke her cheek again:

“What’s her name?”

“Bora.” You answered, chuckling at how joyfully he beamed just from Bora reaching out to grab his finger, cooing the softest of whispers in her own language on behalf of you calling her name.

“Aww. Hi Bora! I’m So Mun-oppa, nice to meet you.” His voice unconsciously eased into a more childish, playful tone. Bora’s chubby hand grasped around his finger to explore the unique touch coming from someone she hadn’t seen before. The difference in size was laughable, yet exceptionally cute.

The air was perfumed with melodic gurgles and murmurs, easily dissolving anyone’s heart into slush. You dipped your head to make eye contact with So Mun, directly bringing up the suggestion: “Do you want to try holding her? Like, holding holding.”

He pointed to himself, eyes slightly widened as if not expecting you to ask this: “You sure? I’ve never held a baby before…”

“Don’t worry, I'll make sure you won't drop her.” The answer slipped out as naturally and confidently as if you were speaking a matter of fact. You lifted Bora off your lap, moving over to him with unfaltering trust.

Holding a baby was not only an act of affection but, furthermore, a timeless configuration of art. You started off by showing him how to support Bora’s fragile head and neck. Her little skull was cradled in the palm of his hand by his trembling fingers, which were loaded with the pressure of responsibility.

You guided her body to rest against his chest with the utmost attention. The delicate yet soul-stirring feeling of carrying such a beautiful miracle built his heartbeat in synchrony with your own, each breath conveyed nervous euphoria. His other arm carefully curled to surround her lower body in a loving cocoon, embosoming the bundle of innocence with his warmth.

With reverence, he let out a contented sigh while admiring how perfectly the girl fit in his embrace. His whispering voice became hushed and almost inaudible as if he were afraid that even a single noise could startle her: “She’s so adorable, what should I do now?”

“I don’t know, keep holding her?” You had to fight for your life inwardly to not snatch some photos from such a heartwarming view, not knowing if you should focus on him or on Bora.

“I am planning to do that.” He started swaying her with a slow, steady pace, a bit clumsily but wholesome nonetheless.

You quickly grabbed some of Bora’s favorite colorful toys, wiggling them in front of her while you and him attempted to make silly faces. Her soft giggle sparked like a star during the night, quickly expanded into a whole sky of glitter.

“Oh my god, we’re making her laugh!” Seeing the effect they had on Bora, he seemed to get even more excited than her. The laughter spread as vigorously as a wildfire that infected you with merriment, both at how precious the little cutie was and how hilariously you two were acting.

Bora looked up at So Mun with her eyes like twin constellations of delight, following each of his movements with tireless attention. Her faint breaths against his skin as she bloomed a toothless smile, unbridled chuckles singing like a symphony that both of you couldn’t help but melt: “She seems to really like you. So this is the ultimate power of being handsome, I can tell.”

He squinted with a smile, bashfully nudging your side as he caught you throwing a cheeky wink: “You’re embarrassing me…”

“Just admit you like it, babe.”

The three of you spent the whole day eating and engaging in playful activities together (with you and So Mun occasionally getting into plushies-fighting battles, no plushies were harmed during the process) until your friend came back from her trip later that evening.

You shared your introductions and goodbyes, ignoring an itty-bitty tug in your chest when you now ought to hand the sweetie back to her mother. It was hysterical how you unreasonably felt like a parent escorting their kid to kindergarten for the first time when this wasn’t even your kid. It was only because the day that had passed felt like such a magical adventure, and you admitted that never in your life was babysitting this memorable.

How wonderful would it be for the moment to last a bit longer…

At least this statement earned an approving thumbs up from, believe it or not, Bora.

Your friend cupped the little girl’s tiny torso, deliberately removing her from So Mun’s hug, her voice soothing and tender in hankering to reunite with her daughter after an exhausting day: “Let’s go home, dear. Mommy is so sorry for making you wait this long.”

Though, nothing seemed to successfully detach the baby from him, the pulls on her body converted into pulls on his sweater, which her hand was clutching onto with an impressively tight grasp. The more they tried to tug her away from So Mun, the more her cherubic face contorted unpleasantly as a warning before a tentative whimper was molded, and finally, a swelling cry.

‘Awkward’ was a minimization to describe the atmosphere, all three of the elders exchanged looks in puzzlement.

Each whine intensified after each second, every sound was a sincere plea that tugged at the heartstrings. Your friend bit her lip, along with you not knowing if she should crack up or freak out at her daughter’s sudden change of heart: “Bora-ah, w–what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You noticed So Mun shooting you a panicked look before turning back to the little one, trying to mitigate her harrowing cry with the gentlest jiggles and back strokes: “Don’t cry… You’re a good girl, right? So don’t cry.”

Bora clung onto him with an iron grip as she mewled, curling into a tiny ball and tucking herself against his chest. It was both sweet and surprising how fast she became attached to him, but it also didn't seem like the right time to laugh so you only let out a quiet titter, moving your attention back to her tubby fingers and trying to unhitch them from his clothes.

“Bora-ah, look at me.” He tilted his head to reach eye level with the girl, his voice consoling like a mellifluous lullaby and a murmur of the wind; you were unaware that, simply by watching, you were also struck with profound adoration: “Oppa promises we’ll see each other again, okay?”

It took them about 10 minutes to separate her from So Mun. And this was obtained as solid proof that your boyfriend wasn’t just good with kids, he could even mesmerize them without acknowledging it.

During that teary-eyed leave-taking, you spotted your friend gesturing something with her mouth to forward a nonverbal message to you, which you recognized as:

“He’s a keeper.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks, but that didn’t stop you from pridefully accepting the comment: “He sure is.”

Bonus:

It was undeniable that Bora has grown to be significantly bonded with So Mun since the time they first saw each other. But as her uncertified “daycare provider,” you were still proudly her favorite person in the house every time she came over.

Your gut clenched as you contained your laughter, pretending not to notice your boyfriend’s adorably sulky face and instead pouring all your affection onto the cutie, kisses freely landing on her forehead.

From his direction, a heavy exhale filled in your ear yet you were too invested in the act to drop it. You soon heard some faint sounds of motion before a weight pressed down on the side of your shoulder, lovable curly hair chaotically snuggling on your shirt:

“Love me, too.”

“C’mon, it’s just Bora.” You burst out giggling and held the little girl closer in your arms just to tease him.

“But you’ve been ignoring me, you know. Can you at least make it equal for both of us? I mean, she’s very cute but…” He pouted, intentionally or not flashing his puppy eyes at you as he mumbled: “Give me attention, too.”

Your speech was replaced with a pause. At this time, you had stopped questioning why merely a small moue could cause such an enormous impact on you that it was no longer practical to keep up with your game. You wasted no time wrapping your free arm around So Mun, drawing him into a side hug where all three of you now huddled into an enclosed position, sharing the same connection and same sentiment: “Damn… Now you’re the one being too cute.”

“Am I?” So Mun grinned, gleefully reciprocating the hug before adding: “By the way, don’t “damn” in front of Bora.”

“She’s not gonna understand.”

#so mun #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #uncanny counter #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

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siriussslut · 9 months

Note

part 2 to fwb james? 😲

absolutely, i hope u like it!! 🫶🏻

warnings: explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving)

this wasn’t really where i intended to go but i kinda ended up making it seem like james has feelings, so… maybe a part three where they get together? idk🤭

part one, masterlist

“hey lily, do you have a tampon i could borrow?” you ask, standing up from your chair. you’re all sitting in the kitchen now, refilling snacks and drinks in preparation for the sequel of the movie you’d finished only a few minutes ago.

“mhm, there’s some in the cabinet of the upstairs bathroom.”

“thanks,” you say, hurrying up the stairs. you knew the tampons were there from the millions of times you’d been over at lily’s already, but you didn’t want the others to suspect anything. you open the door to find james sitting on the edge of the tub, picking at the lint on his t-shirt.

he looks up as you step inside, locking the door behind you. “oh, hey y/n.”

“hey. we have to be quick. i bought a bit of time, said i needed to switch my tampon, but still.” you step out of your clothes as you talk, pulling down your pajama pants and slipping out of your underwear.

“yep, you don’t want them know,” james says, gaze dropping to your pussy. “you’re so pretty.” he’s immediately distracted, transfixed at the sight of you.

you roll your eyes. as if he hasn’t seen your whole body before. he leans forward, head inching towards your pussy. you’d been horny all night, and playing with james earlier had left you aching. you’re practically dripping down your thighs now.

“you’re so wet,” he whispers, voice rough.

“hurry up.”

he looks up at you through his round glasses. “can i?” he gestures towards your pussy with his chin.

you nod, taking his glasses off for him.

he kneels down so he’s resting on his knees, and you press your back up against the door.

he licks softly across your folds, drawing a small moan out of you. you’re less worried about being quiet now, as the others are downstairs and talking loudly with each other.

something inside of him seems to snap, and he speeds up to an aggressive pace, as though he’s starving for your taste. you throw your head back against the door with a loud thud, subconsciously tangling your fingers in his curls.

he looks up at you with soft brown eyes, a smile crinkling in the corners.

his tongue swirls around your clit, lighting the bundle of nerves on fire, one of his fingers pushed deep inside of you.

“oh, james that’s so good,” you say breathily, your voice shaky. “don’t stop, don’t stop.”

his free hand reaches for your hip, softly kneading the flesh on your side, fingers almost on your ass, but remaining just out of reach.

he curves his finger inside of you, quickening the pace of his tongue even further.

you gasp. “oh, james, you’re doing so good. you’re so good- you’re-“ you cut yourself off as you come, your brain overloading.

he doesn’t let go as you orgasm, licking and kissing you through it.

you slide down to the floor when you finish, forcing him to detach his mouth from you.

“was that good?” he asks, pushing your underwear up your legs.

“mhm.” you nod against the door frame, eyes fluttering shut. you give yourself one more moment before you force yourself up. you pull on your pants, checking in the mirror to make sure you look normal. you splash some cool water on your face before unlocking the door.

“hey, y/n,” james says as you turn the door handle.

“yeah?” you pause, turning back to meet his gaze.

his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly wide. his glasses are back on, slightly crooked this time.

“uh, never mind.”

“…okay. wait a few minutes before you come down.” you close the door, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

#james potter #james potter smut #marauders #marauders era #marauders smut #marauders era smut #harry potter smut

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miguelswifey04 · 9 months

Note

hiyaa can i request reader having baby fever?? everytime her and miguel would go to the mall and they pass a baby store she’d gush over the cute clothes n stuff?

omg yes that’s so cute!!

miguel o’hara x fem! reader

with every visit to the mall, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement and longing whenever you passed by a baby store. your heart would flutter at the sight of tiny onesies, adorable toys, and tiny shoes that seemed impossibly cute. baby fever had well and truly taken hold of you.

miguel, attuned to your every emotion, noticed the spark in your eyes whenever you caught sight of the baby section. he couldn't help but smile at your gushing and animated reactions. his heart warmed at the thought of starting a family with you, but he also knew the importance of ensuring the time was right for both of you.

one day, as you reached the baby store, you practically bounded towards it, eager to immerse yourself in the world of tiny clothes and soft toys. your fingers grazed over the fabrics, your eyes sweeping over the cuteness overload on display. miguel looked on, amused and enamored by your infectious enthusiasm.

tapping your shoulder gently, he asked, "mi cielito, do you think now might be a good time to seriously consider starting a family?" your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and joy flooding your senses. you nodded eagerly, speechless with excitement.

miguel’s eyes sparkled with a mix of love and anticipation. "i’d love nothing more than to embark on this journey with you, cariño. let’s make our dreams of parenthood a reality."

from that day forward, the baby store visits took on a new significance. each passing of the store became a reminder of the joy and love that awaited the two of you in the future. you and miguel began to envision your own little one, planning and preparing for the day when your family would expand.

together, you spent hours pouring over baby books, researching and learning about parenting, and discussing your hopes and dreams for the child you would bring into the world.

as the months rolled by, you and miguel prepared your home, transforming it into a haven for your future bundle of joy. the baby's room became a sanctuary of love, filled with carefully chosen furniture, soft colors, and shelves overflowing with stuffed animals and picture books.

finally, the day arrived when you held your newborn baby in your arms. the moment was filled with overwhelming love and gratitude, a culmination of your baby fever dreams. miguel stood by your side, equally in awe of the little miracle that now completed your family.

as you watched miguel cradle your little one with tenderness and awe, you knew that every moment spent gushing over baby clothes in the mall had led you to this beautiful reality. your hearts were full, brimming with a love that couldn't be contained.

in the years that followed, your family grew and thrived, cherishing every precious moment together. and whenever you passed that baby store, the memories of your journey would resurface, reminding you of the dreams that came true and filling you with gratitude for the love you shared as a family.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @obi-mom-kenobi @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #lin’s asks #miguel o’hara fluff

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she-walks-on-starlight · 3 months

Text

You Ruined Me (Do it Again)

a/n: the smut has arrived! Enjoy ;) - ✨

Warnings: smoking, possessive!sevika, SMUT: slight public sex, choking kink, biting, fingering, oral sex, strap-on sucking, strap-on referred to as cock, strap riding, spit kink, praise kink, light muscle kink, ab riding, sexually explicit teasing.

Summary: Your first night out in a while after leaving your cheating ex does not end how you expected it to...but then what did you expect, going to her club?

Word Count: 2.2k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Final

The journey to Sevika’s place was a short one, but she didn’t waste a single second. The taxi driver mercifully kept his eyes on the road despite the filthy display occurring in his backseat. No doubt Sevika’s reputation preceded her, and he wanted to keep his teeth.

It was like no time had passed. You were melting in Sevika’s hands, her lips on your neck as she marked you again and again. Her hand was now shamelessly in your panties, her fingers toying with your slick folds and her thumb rubbing gentle circles over your clit which was burning with pleasure. Sevika knew what she was doing, applying just enough pressure to make you feel good but not enough to make you come. She had a lot of plans for you, and coming early was not gonna ruin them.

“Your pussy’s so wet for me, princess…”

You gasped as she pressed harder on your clit. “I…I missed you, Sev…”

You’re interrupted by the taxi stopping at Sevika’s apartment. You hurriedly tumble out as Sevika pays him and tips him generously. You shriek and giggle as she picks you up like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the door, and letting you in. She doesn’t let you down, choosing instead to grip your thighs, lifting your dress higher and grinding into your pussy with her own. Your eyes roll back at the contact.

Sevika laughs huskily. “God, look how wet you are, princess…”

You blush, hiding your face in her neck and kissing her there. “It’s your fault.”

Sevika grinds into you again. “Damn right, princess.”

She carried you to the bedroom, throwing you roughly on the bed, dragging you to the edge. She eyes your body ravenously and you know exactly what’s running through her head.

“Wait, Sev, this dress was ex-”

You speak too little too late, as she tears the dress at the side, ripping it off you and leaving you in your black, lacy underwear. You huff petulantly at her but Sevika only grins in response, pleased to be able to see you.

“I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

You’re about to retort when she starts to kiss you again, overloading your senses as her body hovers above yours. Her hand drifts to your cunt and starts to stroke your clit again, while her mouth wanders elsewhere. She’s all tongue and teeth, she’s been starved of you for too long. She tastes you reverently, her tongue tracing your hardened, perky nipples, her teeth biting into them gently at first before she abandons her restraint and bites harder. She repeats the process, lower and lower, until your body is littered with red and purple marks, reminders of where she’s been, where she intends to visit again. She breathes in when she reaches your pussy, you’ve always been intoxicating to her. She parts your folds, and licks one firm stripe from your entrance to your slit. Your moan is nothing short of greedy, trying to urge your cunt closer to her face, desperate for her tongue.

“Sev…please…I need you.”

She flicks her tongue against your clit, teasing you until your whimpering and begging has reached a crescendo. She grips your thighs, keeping them wide and you know you’re in for the fuck of your life. She is aggressive and forceful, her tongue roughly pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves again and again with no reprieve, occasionally lowering herself to probe at your entrance and fill it with her tongue, tasting the nectar building there.

You were a mess, falling apart under her. Nothing else existed, just you and Sevika and the feeling reckless pleasure rushing through you. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, after all the teasing in the car you could feel your release rising in your lower belly.

“Sev…I’m gonna come…please let me…”

Her response was more rewarding than you could have ever hoped. She increased her speed, and the pressure. You screamed, threading your fingers into her hair and bucking into her mouth as you came. She lapped up every single drop, she wouldn’t waste anything you gave her ever again. Crawling on top of you, she kissed you fiercely and you responded with equal vigour, tasting your salty sweetness in her mouth.

Her eyes darkened as you took one of her hands, relishing in the sturdy weight of it in your palm, and placed it against your throat, making sure to swallow hard so she could feel it. A low growl rumbled through her whole body, adding to the throb of your aching cunt.

“You’re playing with fire, princess.”

You placed your hand on top of hers, encouraging her fingers to squeeze. “So, burn me with it already.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. In one swift moment, her hand clamped tightly around your throat, while two thick fingers pushed into your folds, curling immediately to draw out a load moan from you. Still reeling from your last orgasm, and the powerful feeling of relinquishing control to Sevika by allowing her to choke you, it wasn’t long until you were chasing your second high, your eyes rolling back while she relentlessly thrust her fingers into you, kissing and biting every inch of skin she could reach.

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good around my fingers…”

You moan loudly, you know she wants to hear you. “You always stretch me out so good, Sev…”

“I’m gonna make you cum til you see stars, princess. Just you wait.”

She made good on her promise, your second orgasm ripping through you like a freight train leaving you a twitching mess on the bed. Sevika gently withdrew her fingers, and you automatically knew what to do. Opening your mouth, Sevika watched, enraptured, as you sucked your juices off her fingers.

“God, I fucking love watching you do that, princess.”

She lets you come down from your high, your chest heaving as you try to breathe normally again, feeling thoroughly fucked out. She relieves herself of her clothes, and you take the moment to admire her. She flexes her muscles, knowing you’re watching. You see her fiddling with something in her boxers, and your cunt starts to throb in anticipation.

“Is that what I think it is, Sev?”

She looks at you, eyes glinting mischievously. “That depends. You want it, princess?”

You say nothing, you just stand on albeit wobbly legs before kneeling down, and stick out your tongue, waiting obediently.

Sevika grips your jaw. “Fuck, look at you, princess. Let me help you get lubed up, angel.”

She spits in your mouth, which you eagerly swallow, opening your mouth and widening your doe eyes to beg for another. Sevika growls, her own cunt now throbbing as she spits down your throat and you thank her.

She released the strap-on she’d been packing, adjusting it so the base rubs against her swollen clit. The strap is thick, a deep purple colour. You recognised it well; you bought it for her birthday one year. The harness was a comfortable boxer-style so it didn’t cut into her muscled thighs, and it meant she could pack whenever she felt like it without being too obvious. The worn leather armchair in Sevika’s room creaked in complaint as she dropped into it unceremoniously, straightening her cock and beckoning you forward. You crawled towards her, parting her knees so you could neatly slot yourself between them before licking a long stripe from the base of the cock to the tip.

You were a well-trained girl, this was easy. This wasn’t your first rodeo, and you knew exactly what Sevika would want. Taking the entire shaft into your throat, you made sure to noisily gag around it even though you weren’t really choking.

Sevika was utterly entranced by you. “Yeah, that’s it, princess. Take that cock down your throat like a good girl.”

You complied, taking it all the way to the base, nudging your nose against Sevika’s mound. Your motions pushed the base against her clit, and her large hand taking a fistful of your hair just spurred you on. You started to suck, eagerly, your head bobbing up and down, taking as much as you could each time you descended. Sevika’s moans and grunts filled the small room, music to your ears.

“Fuck me, princess, you’re gonna make me come just doing that.”

You removed your mouth from her cock with a satisfying pop! and smirked at her, standing up and arching your body, her eyes watching your every move.

“Can’t have that, can we?”

Growling, Sevika surged forward, her muscled arms trapping you and dragging you onto her lap. You angled your hips forward, avoid the strap and grinding your cunt on her abs instead. Trailing your tongue up her neck, you groaned in pleasure as the muscle flexed under your touch. You removed yourself from her neck and focused on rolling your hips. Her abs were as glorious as ever, toned to perfection and hard as rock. Like her neck, they tensed as you pressed yourself into them, teasingly at first. Then unyielding hands were pushing down on your hips, and there was no escape. Moans and whispers left your lips with abandon as Sevika’s well defined abs tickled your clit deliciously, bringing you to the brink.

Sevika grunted out a laugh. “God, you have such a muscle kink, y/n.”

You laughed with her breathily. “Can you blame me…look at you…”

You felt the tip of the strap near your entrance, Sevika’s eyes heavy with lust but always asking, always considerate. You gripped the strap underneath you and angled it towards your leaking cunt, ravenous for Sevika’s cock to fill you. As you start to swallow the strap, your pussy hungrily drawing it in, you feel Sevika’s arms wrapping around you, bringing you closer for a heated kiss.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll be gentle…”

You dig your nails into her shoulders, raking them over her back, invoking a shudder and a carnal groan from Sevika. You sunk down more, taking her cock until she was hilted inside you.

Your voice, cracking from your screams of bliss, comes out in a whisper as you start to ride her. “Don’t you dare.”

It’s been so long since Sevika’s been inside you, but your pussy takes her cock like it’s what you were born for. You speed up your pace, riding Sevika roughly as she grips the arms of the chair, a determined look creeping onto her face. Your own face flushes with delight, you know what’s coming. In a swift motion, she’s reversed your positions, now you’re in the chair, your knees pushed back as she starts to pound roughly into your cunt.

She hasn’t lost her skills, the way she fucks you open, pushing your knees open so she can go deeper with each thrust. She wasn’t wrong, you’re certain you’re seeing stars each time the strap pushes into and kisses your cervix. Her face is filled with concentration, trickles of sweat rolling from her hairline down her face, down her neck. You’ve seen a more beautiful sight, and you urge her to fuck you harder, faster.

“Oh, fuck…keep going Sev…fuck me into this chair!”

“You always take my cock so good, princess…your pretty little pussy swallows it all…might have to get a bigger one for you next time…”

You know Sevika’s close herself, her iron clutch on your hips is bordering on painful and her bucking thrusts are becoming wilder, more frantic. You’re loving every second of it.

“C’mere Sev, kiss me…bite me…”

Sevika leans down, attacking you with a bruising animalistic kiss that has you both gasping for air. As you recover, she nips your bottom lip hard, drawing blood. Her eyes widen for a moment, until you lick the blood away and moan loudly in her ear.

“Fuck, princess, that was so hot…”

You’re so close now, heat roiling in your belly and your cunt clenching tightly around Sevika’s cock. She’s nearly there too, her breaths ragged and her legs beginning to shudder. You drag your nails down her back, scratching deep and hard. She has one hand at your throat, angling your face away and exposing your neck. The other hand is pressing into your clit, rubbing in frenzied motions, sending your orgasm hurtling to the edge. All it takes is for her to bite in your neck with brutal force, and you’re squirting all over her cock, your pussy giving her everything it can. The sight of you creaming all over her strap sends Sevika over the edge, roaring and thrusting into you one final time as she comes, soaking her boxers, her grip on you unwavering as her orgasm courses through her. Seconds pass, minutes too as the two of you breathe through your highs, still connected and holding onto each other like lifelines.

You whine when Sevika pulls out of you, your cum still dripping down your thighs. You feel fucked dumb, barely registering Sevika leaving to use the bathroom and returning with a warm, damp washcloth. She’s gentle, cleaning you up and dressing you in a pair of her boxers and an old shirt that smells like her woody cologne and cigarettes. She guides you into a comfortable position in the bed, climbing in herself and wrapping herself around you. She’s only wearing a clean pair of boxers, heat pleasantly radiating from her arms and chest and seeping into your skin. She kisses you softly in the space behind your earlobe and your eyes flutter closed.

The last things you hear before being lulled into sleep is Sevika murmuring into your ear. “I love you, my sweet princess. I never stopped, and I never will. You’re mine, and I promise I’m yours.”

Taglist:

@ion-news

#my writing #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #lesbian #fanfic #sevika fanfic #shameless smut #smut #sevika x you #sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika #soft sevika

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toomuchracket · 10 months

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totally wrecked (d word matty x reader smut)

(yo. you should all know what this is, because you voted for it, but if not... a loooong one, full of unprotected bathroom counter sex, mirror fingering, cumplay, and a tiny little bit of the d word being used. FIRMLY 18+, because it's filthy lmao. ok love you all hope you enjoy <3)

"fuck, you're tight. i don't think - shit, so fucking good, taking me so fucking well - fuck, i don't think i'm going to last much longer, princess."

you can barely hear matty speak, despite the fact your face is tucked into the crook of his neck and you can feel the vibrations of his words (well, moans) against your flushed cheek. he's fucking you relentlessly on top of the granite bathroom counter in his hotel suite, and the wet, slapping sound of his hips driving into yours is the most audible thing in the room; it's so loud, in fact, that it almost drowns out the saturday night soundtrack of the new york city streets outside. it's only been a week since you last saw (and fucked) your boyfriend, but the way he's got your legs wrapped like a vice around his waist and desperately pulls your bum forward to meet his powerful thrusts... one would think you hadn't seen him in months.

although, the way matty's been railing you nonstop through multiple orgasms so far probably has less to do with the time you've spent apart and more to do with what's happened since you reunited two hours ago - namely, the ruined handjob you gave him in the shower, bringing him (slightly sleepy, extremely sappy, and thus putty in your hands) to the edge of release twice, but stopping your motions before any orgasm could properly hit. before you could go for a third time, however, matty snapped and lifted you onto the counter you're currently perched on the edge of. in stark contrast to your teasing method of orgasm deprivation, his means of retaliation is to overload you with them, making you cum over and over and over, until you're teetering on the verge of tears, consciousness, sanity itself. and it's working; you're whimpering with every movement of matty's hips, your brain so clouded from constant pleasure that you genuinely fear you won't be able to function at all if you loosen your grasp on his curls and his back.

sudden pressure on your clit tears a scream from your scratchy throat, making your head snap back in shock. matty - looking as fucked out as you feel, flushed and sweaty and gorgeous as ever - has the absolute cheek to smile sweetly at you as if nothing's happening, all the while continuing to rub tiny circles onto your sensitive bundle of nerves despite your body's convulsions and the whines you can't stop making. "want you to cum again for me, princess," he murmurs, voice echoed by a moan. "need you to be a good girl and cum all over my dick for me, make me cum. you'd - fuck, you're so wet - you'd do that for me, wouldn't you, be my good girl? think i deserve it, since you wouldn't let me cum earlier."

oh, he's fucking sick. he's also right - he does deserve you being good for him, but even the mere thought of another orgasm has you almost blacking out. so you shake your head violently, tears spilling out over your lower lashline and splattering all over you and matty and the counter. "can't, i can't do it, too - mmm - sensitive."

"yeah you can, princess, you can do it," matty coos, the softness in his voice and eyes a total juxtaposition to the brutal pace he's fucking you at. he leans in to give you a quick kiss, and despite your despair at his behaviour you return it eagerly. "just one more for me, sweetheart, that's all i'm asking. what's one more orgasm, after all the others i've given you today, hmm? c'mon, you can do it a final time, my perfect girl, cum for me one more time. please?"

it's the plea that does you in - you're incapable of resisting matty when he goes all sweet on you. and for the second time in probably as many minutes - although you're so dazed that your grasp on the passage of time is probably ballerina-slender at best - he's right. as soon as matty's encouragement begins, so too does the rapid increase of heat in your core, growing and growing with every thrust or clit-circle from your boyfriend. with a cry of "shit, shit, matty!", it explodes into light; you're a supernova, a collapsing star, kept only from falling into an exhaustion-induced black hole by matty's hold on your body.

as you cum for the final time, his hand moves from your clit to behind your head, silently but lovingly nudging you back into the crook of his neck as he chases his own release. the gravitational pull from your own orgasm means he doesn't have far to go, though - within seconds, matty's gasping out your name, thrusts faltering as the pleasure in his body reaches its peak. "'m so fucking close, fuck, babe. where d'you want me?"

"inside, fill me up," you whine into matty's neck, still reeling from the shockwaves of your own ending. on nothing more than base instinct, you suck a mark into the spot your lips have recently inhabited, grazing your teeth over it - at that, matty groans, holding both your hips to get as deep inside you as he can and fulfil your request of being filled with his release. you feel heat in your core again as he does, but this is no stellar demise; it's a rekindling, leaving the two of you glowing with satisfaction.

while he's still inside you, matty's hands slide up from your hips so that he can wrap his arms around your waist. yours slide down from his hair and upper back to copy him, and the two of you just stay clutching each other wordlessly until your breathing regulates and your vision is less blurry and everything feels a bit more... real. matty presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, then another to the tip of your nose, and finally one on your lips. "did so well for me, sweetheart, thank you. i love you."

"i love you too. thank you baby, that was amazing," you smile sleepily at your boyfriend, who takes the chance to kiss you again with a smile to match your own. "gonna be sore tomorrow, though."

"i'll take care of you, my darling, don't you worry," matty says, brushing your (likely horrendously messy) hair from your face. "d'you feel up for having a bath now? might help prevent some of the aching."

"mmm, yeah, that sounds nice."

"alright, sweetheart, whatever you want," matty takes both your hands in his own and kisses each of them in turn, which elicits a giggle from you. "gonna pull out now, ok?"

you nod, shuffling your now-numb backside as best you can to brace yourself for the imminent discomfort. still holding your hands, matty hisses as he detaches his hips from your own; you wince at the loss of him, but the feeling passes as quickly as it came on. "that wasn't so bad - babe, are you ok?"

your question falls on deaf ears, as your boyfriend does nothing but stare down between your still-open legs as if entranced. his already-dark eyes are still black with lust, both pupils and eyelids wider than normal. when you brush your fingers against his face, matty snaps out of his little reverie and turns his head to kiss your palm with a tender smile, but his gaze falls back to your core within seconds. you giggle, and only then do his eyes flick up to your face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he begins, sheepish tone almost comical in comparison to the dominance he displayed over you less than five minutes ago. "just can't get over how perfect you look with my cum dripping out of you. still not used to it - don't think i ever will be, to be honest."

"jesus christ, you're such a boy sometimes," you grin, rolling your eyes despite the shivers of arousal that rolled down your spine at matty's words.

"you know full well i'm a man, princess, thank you very much" comes your boyfriend's indignant reply, accompanied by a light flick to your thigh.

"like i could ever forget, with that daft tattoo."

"negativity? pretty bold for a woman who just let me creampie her, no?"

you fake retch. "if you ever refer to it as that in future, matthew, you're never doing it to me ever again."

"fuck, ok. i'm sorry, sweetheart," matty presses little kisses all over your face in effusive apology, pulling giggles and contented little hums from you. "horrible word, i agree. uncouth."

you snort. "you really like cumming inside me, huh? never seen you cave for anything so quickly."

"baby, it's the sexiest thing on the fucking planet," matty grins, kissing your head. he taps your bum once. "turn around for me and have a look, yeah?"

you lean up to kiss matty quickly, murmuring an "ok" against his lips, before lifting your legs onto the counter and beginning the awkward swivel to look in the mirror on the wall. the granite is so wide and smooth that you technically should be able to turn 180 degrees no problem, but the shaky numbness of your legs hinders you slightly - matty helps by grabbing and adjusting your hips, then spreading your legs, standing flush against your back to ensure you don't fall backwards. and when you see yourself, you almost do, out of sheer shock.

it's not that you look bad; in fact, it's the opposite. you look like sex itself. yeah, your cheeks are ruby-woo-red and your hair is perhaps the least neat it's ever been, but you look ridiculously hot like this, fucked-out and messy, all heaving chest and sparkling eyes and kiss-bitten lips and a sense of incredible pleasure just radiating from you. but perhaps the most erotic thing about your appearance is the little drops of white trailing down your ruined core, juices from a summer nectarine. is it anywhere near as sweet?

"matty," you whisper, still staring at the sight between your legs. "i want to know what we taste like. can i?"

"fuck," matty groans, bowing his head so his forehead is pressed against the back of yours. he inhales deeply, then leans to rest his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck lightly. "whatever you want, princess, you'll get."

with that, he brings a calloused hand round and drags the pads of his middle and ring fingers up your core, catching the drops of his own cum as he does. you whimper when they brush against your swollen, sensitive clit, which earns you a "sorry, sweetheart" and a kiss to your temple before matty's holding his fingers in front of your lips. wordlessly, and looking at matty in the mirror the whole time to see his reaction, you take his fingers into your mouth to the knuckle, dragging your tongue up and across them before sucking and releasing them with a wet pop. matty whines - actually whines - at the sensation, throwing his head back in arousal before leaning back in to kiss your neck. "good?"

you nod, savouring the salt of him and tang of you on your tongue, a little bit like one of the margaritas you had at drinks earlier. then you tilt your head towards matty and pout your lips slightly. "have a taste for yourself, angel."

matty smiles sweetly at you, before grabbing your jaw and pressing his lips to your own. so quickly and instinctively that you would be embarrassed if you weren't so turned on, your mouth opens to let his tongue in. you love all of matty's kisses, but these types are your favourite - long and sloppy and and head-spinning, matty taking up your mouth with his own so completely it's almost like he's trying to devour you. you think you'd let him; you'd let him do anything with that mouth, quite frankly.

that mouth, which you capture the bottom lip of between your teeth and release slowly, pulling back from your boyfriend purely so you can breathe. he lets out a shaky breath as you do - which inflates your ego by an astronomical degree - and murmurs your name dreamily, before wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your eyes meet again in the mirror a few seconds later, his and hers gazes trailing down your reflection to the space between your legs. you sigh when you don't see any more white trickling out of you, and matty giggles when he realises what you're irked about. "you are such a little slut and i am in love with you. are you really pouting because you can't see my cum spilling out of you anymore? incredible."

"stop itttttt," you whine, burying your face in your hands. "i just think it's hot to look at. and s'your fault that i can't, because you came so deep in me."

"generally, sweetheart, that's the point of a cr- cumming inside someone."

"i know, i know. just quite like seeing it, s'all."

"i know you do, princess, i was just teasing," matty says sweetly, resting his head on top of your own. a beat passes, then you see his pretty face light up in the way you've come to recognise as his "i'm a fucking genius" mode in the mirror. "and i've got an idea, if you're feeling up for it."

you narrow your eyes. "what?"

"well, provided you're a bit less sensitive than you were... let me finger my cum out of you."

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

another shiver of arousal rolls down the back of your neck and spine, making you sit up a bit straighter. you swallow before responding. "yeah, ok."

"you sure, sweetheart?" matty hooks his index finger under your jaw and turns your head to face him. "because if you're not feeling alright, we can go and have a bath and chill."

"no, i'm alright, babe," you say, pecking matty on the lips. "really. i'll tell you if i need to stop. i know the safeword."

"good girl," matty reciprocates your peck. "have fun, princess."

with that, his mouth is back on your neck again, lightly sucking a bruise into the soft skin while his hands come around to your boobs. calloused fingers lightly brush over your nipples at first, matty rubbing little circles into them exactly as he would on your clit - initially softly, sweetly, pressure increasing the more you moan and whine and arch your back into him. the pleasure wafting across your body is gentle, soft, a sense of contentment; that soon shifts into elation when matty suddenly pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he says "so fucking gorgeous, all spread out for me. want me to keep going?"

you whimper out a reply, hips beginning to grind into thin air. "need your fingers inside me, please, need them now."

"whatever you want, princess."

with that, matty leans around to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. this one is slightly different to the last - the underlying motivation behind it is love, not lust. you allow yourself to relax a little, bask in the glow of the love you and matty have for each other, and so you're pleasantly shocked at the sudden feeling of his middle finger teasing your entrance. "fuck, yes," you moan against matty's lips. "fuck me with it, please."

matty's other hand comes down to your left thigh, spreading it even further out as he circles your - arguably soaked - hole with the other. "watch me do it, then."

you do as you're told, gluing your eyes to your own core. with a kiss to your shoulder far too chaste for the circumstances, matty slides his finger inside you and begins to pump it slowly. "fuck, baby," he moans into your skin. "touch your tits for me, make yourself feel good. god, so fucking hot, so good for me."

with a whine, you bring your hands up to your nipples in an imitation of the motions matty was doing a moment ago - a poor imitation, but it does the trick nonetheless. and really, you could get away with doing nothing at all and still get lost in how good matty's finger feels inside you, hooking upwards before thrusting in and out increasingly quickly. but you want this to be good for him, too, so you obey; you're awarded with a "good girl, doing so fucking well for me" for your efforts, followed by a "can i add another?", to which you eagerly agree.

once matty's established a toe-curlingly good rhythm and pace with his fingers, he latches his lips onto your neck again. you watch him in the mirror, through eyes half-lidded with pleasure, as he sucks an accompanying bruise next to the existing one, forming a little heart - even hazy with a slowly-building orgasm in the base of your spine, you smile at the action. being lovey-dovey and sappy even while he's literally clawing his cum out of your cunt? it's so characteristically matty that it makes your heart melt.

it reforms into a flutter mere seconds later, though, when your boyfriend angles his hand in such a way that his fingers hit your g-spot, while his wrist presses lightly on your still-sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, jerking forward in ecstasy, while matty coos and wraps his free arm around your waist to keep you close. "oh, there she is! god, you're so good for me, princess. want me to make you cum now?"

you're nodding frantically before he can even finish speaking. "please, please, make me cum," you whimper, meeting matty's lust-filled eyes in the mirror. "been so good for you, wanna cum."

"alright."

it's incomprehensible to you how he does it, but matty speeds up his hand movements even more, cooing into your ear and calling you his "good fucking girl, perfect girl" as he does. you silently pray to any and all deities that might exist in gratitude for whoever told him to pick up a guitar and develop wrist strength back in the day, before a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach wipes your mind clean of any coherent thought. "matty, baby, m'gonna cum."

"hold it."

no fucking way. your eyes widen in horror. "what?!"

matty giggles - not maliciously, but not exactly nicely, either. "just for a second longer, princess, just so you can enjoy how good my cum feels inside you before i fuck it all out. hold it for daddy, ok?"

he's pulled the d word card. the fucking d word card.

you can't flake on him now, so you take a deep breath and continue looking at your boyfriend's reflection. "alright then."

a kiss to your temple. "good girl."

despite your best intentions to delay your orgasm, matty has no such qualms; you swear his fingering gets even faster, his dirty talk gets moanier, and the kisses he's harassing your neck with are the sexiest yet. regardless on whether that's actually true or not (although your boyfriend's slight sadistic streak makes you believe in the former), the pressure in your stomach continues to grow. you don't know if you have it in you at all to stop it.

luckily, though, the actual end goal of this little sexperiment is in sight, literally - looking down at matty's fingers thrusting into you, you notice his cum from earlier beginning to seep out around them. it's an obscenely erotic image, eliciting a synchronised moan from you and matty. he grins, panting, into your shoulder. "fuck, princess, look at you all full of me. mine, all mine, my perfect girl, the love of my life."

the combination of the sight and matty's praise is a heady one, intoxicating you, making your eyes roll back into your skull and your already aching legs quiver. teeth chattering with an impending orgasm, you manage a whimpered request. "daddy, please, please can i cum now?"

"oh, princess," matty pulls you in for a quick kiss, marvelling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. "go on, cum for me, good girl."

as soon as the words leave his mouth, the elastic band of building pressure in your stomach snaps. screaming, you cling to matty's arms as he moans and works you through the orgasm, in spite of you clenching around his fingers so tightly he can barely move. he pulls them out before the aftershocks kick in, wrapping both arms around you and verbally coaxing you through your high between kisses to your face and neck and shoulders and head.

once you've stopped shaking quite so much, you snuggle into matty while the two of you catch your breath, watching streams of white liquid pour out of you. before matty has the chance, you cup your hand just below your hole to catch most of it and bring it to your mouth - he groans out a "you're fucking perfect" as you do, followed by a "beautiful, filthy girl" as you smile at him with his cum all over your lips. matty pulls you in for another kiss; ironically, this one is gentle and loving and sweet, until matty breaks it. "god, we really do taste fucking amazing. you're fucking amazing. i love you, my girl, you did so well for me."

"i love you, too. i can't believe we just did that," you say, shifting as best you can to hug your boyfriend. "can we do it again?"

"love the enthusiasm, but we need a bath first, sweetheart, i think."

"true."

#mads muses #mads does writing #matty asks #smutty asks #d word matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy smut

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 4 months

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Cloudy Christmastime

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Before anyone protests, I headcanon the Wayne family as celebrating both Jewish holidays like Yom Kippur and Hanukkah as well as Christmas and Easter because yes, Bruce is ethnically Jewish (though may have done Christmas as well) but Dick/Jason/Tim/Steph would have likely celebrated Christmas. So they do both.

Anyway, this is a christmas gift for @glorified-red and literally the 5th take on this fic bc they first said Hallmark movie, then damijon hallmark movie, then whump. And then it took me three tries to get something I was close to happy with so I hope you enjoy. This ended up being a mix of domestic fluff and h/c.

warnings: sensory overload

wc: ~2600

“Tell me again why Santa doesn’t bring us gifts if he’s real. Like our dads have met him. And he still doesn’t bring us presents,” Jon lamented from the couch, bundled up in four blankets.

From your spot on the floor by the tree, you looked up, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Because we’re not kids anymore? And how do you know Santa ever brought us gifts?”

“Perhaps,” Damian added, passing Jon a cup of hot chocolate. He placed a second cup on the coffee table and lifted one to his lips. “He only brought gifts to people to make a point. I never received any from him as a child but father has gotten many over the years.”

Jon listed to the side, head landing on Damian’s shoulder. “I think that’s worse.”

For the first time in a while, Jon felt Damian’s huff of laughter more than he heard it. Your small chuckle was similarly inaudible. Jon hated solar flaring. Not only was it a pain to deal with for the day and change—one could argue he got either lucky or really unlucky by solar flaring the morning of Christmas Eve—but it always threw his senses out of whack as they trickled back in. And, with the gray skies of Gotham’s winter, Jon was expecting it to be even weirder than usual. It was worth it though, to him, in order to spend the day itself with his partners. It was enough that the Kent family Christmas Eve was ruined by Lex Luthor. He wasn’t going to let his Christmas day be ruined too.

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” you offered with a shrug and a smile. Jon met your grin with his own. A full-body shiver wracked his frame. Your gaze turned concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “Just chilly.” Damian’s arm wrapped further around Jon, pulling their sides flush against each other. Jon maneuvered the blankets away to soak in his warmth.

“Ameli, we can turn the heat up,” Damian offered.

“Nope,” Jon argued, nuzzling into Damian’s neck. “This is good.” Damian’s resulting huff of air teased at the hair on the top of Jon’s head.

“Mi luna?” You asked from the floor. Damian turned to look at you. Jon followed, eyes traveling over the mound of presents arranged under the tree. There was a pile around the back of the tree against the wall for Damian’s family (Jon still needed to give Dick his gift from the Hanukkah celebration a couple weeks ago. The blue dreidel paper was obvious against the sea of brown, red, and green wrapping paper.), and a smaller one for yours. The empty gap left behind after the Kent Christmas was already filled in with a large box Jon was like ninety percent sure was a new easel for Damian. You ordered it, not him, but Jon couldn’t think of anything else on any of your lists that was even close to that size. “Can you hand me that please?” You gestured to a precarious stack on the coffee table.

Damian acquiesced, passing over a teetering pile of vaguely book-shaped items. Who those were for was anyone’s guess. Jon was grateful Alfred had helped you and him pay for some of the gifts for Damian. Looking at the gift tags, it otherwise would have been horribly uneven. And Damian himself wouldn’t have minded, Jon knew, but you and him would have been upset about it anyway. He deserves the world, your rohi. Damian pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you, still arranging presents under the tree. He showed it quickly to Jon before texting it to him immediately.

“This look okay?” You asked, peeking out from behind the tree. Jon looked it over. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but he also wasn’t exactly the reigning opinion on artistic presentation.

“It looks fine, hayati” Damian said, eyes still trained on his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You didn't even look.”

Damian turned to look at you. “Because I knew it looked fine, beloved.” His eyes scanned the presents. “And it does.”

You shook your head at him, exasperated, before conceding and sitting heavily on the couch. Scooching in, you nearly pressed up against Jon’s other side.

“Come closer,” He whined, untangling a hand from the blankets to grab yours. “You’re warm.”

Jon could feel the look exchanged over his head.

“I’m not that warm,” you argued even as you grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and arranged the blankets so that you could fit underneath. “You’re just cold.”

Jon shrugged. The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached underneath Damian’s shirt and he swore, grabbing Jon’s wrist to keep its chill away. Another look passed over Jon’s head. He wondered sometimes if the two of you were aware he knew what you were doing and just didn’t care. Probably.

“Are you sure you’re okay, amorcito?” You asked. Jon shrugged.

“It’s cold outside and I’m human but otherwise yeah. I have you two,” he added smugly. Damian’s playful shoulder hit came at the same time as your muttered “sap.” Jon grinned. “So because I’m sick—sort of—I get to pick the movie. And we’re watching Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Despite the protests on both sides, the movie was playing before Damian could even get up to turn the lights off. To the side of the couch, the lights on the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow.

Jon awoke to a cold bed. On a good day, he’d wake with the sun—or whenever it wormed its way through the bedroom’s black out curtains—or to an international emergency. Okay, not that the emergency was good, just that he was feeling good enough to know it was happening. On a bad day, all bets were off. Jon stuck his hand out of the covers, searching blindly for his phone. After a moment of finding nothing but the wood of the end table, the scratchiness of the sheets was unignorable and he gave up, flinging back the covers to get out of bed. Hanging over the side of the dresser was a dark red sweatshirt. Jon grabbed it and tugged it on, rubbing his arms to get the lingering echo of the sheets off his skin. His off kilter super hearing zeroed in on the crooning of Michael Bublé before zooming back out into the general background noise coming from the kitchen. Jon winced, squaring his shoulders. That was a bad sign. But it was Christmas; he’d be fine.

A quick squint at his phone told Jon that it was just after noon. No wonder the bed was cold. Jon shivered, then grabbed a pair of your fuzzy socks before opening the bedroom door.

The smell of cinnamon and chocolate coming from the kitchen was pleasant rather than unbearable. Jon let himself breathe it in as he approached quietly. He didn’t even notice you behind him—though that was often true of an average day—before there were arms around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the warmth of you.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor. How are you feeling?” you inquired. Hot breath ghosted across his neck. Jon shrugged.

“Fine. Excited for today.” He spun around to face you, eyes taking in your christmas pj pants and sweater with a Robin logo. Over your shoulder, Jon could see flashes of blue, likely Damian’s nightwing sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas,” he added, tucking his nose into the spot just underneath your ear for just a moment. No matter what his super senses were like, he took comfort in the smell of the two of you. A hand weaved through his hair, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Jon pulled back just enough to give you a peck on the lips before being spun around into a kiss from Damian.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Jon muttered, pressing a second lingering kiss to Damian’s jawline. A steady heartbeat pulsed under his fingers, wrapped around Damian’s wrist.

“Good morning,” Damian said, wrapping an arm around Jon to keep him close. Jon blindly reached out and a second calloused hand found his. A second warm body curled around him. He missed your heartbeats’ song in his ears, but Damian’s pounding steadily under his ear and yours fluttering underneath his fingertips was good enough for right then. “Are you alright?” Damian continued. “It’s late.” His voice was echoey underneath Jon’s ear and Jon flinched instinctively. The two of you reacted immediately, pulling back.

“Jon?” you asked, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah,” he managed. “I’m mostly good. About as expected, you know?” Jon offered up a smile. By the looks on your faces, it didn’t do as much reassurance as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“Don’t apologize,” Damian argued. “There is no reason to.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jon sighed.

“How are you feeling about breakfast, mi sol?” You asked, tangling your fingers with his.

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed.

“Oh yeah I should definitely send Dick a text to thank him. And also say Merry Christmas,” Jon said, flopping down on the couch after breakfast. With his partners looking happy, Christmas music in the background, and a breakfast of vegan pancakes in his stomach, Jon could almost forget about the buzzing under his skin.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “He would have swapped with me anyway. Gordon and Father are both working tonight so it was pointless for him to have the evening off.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, doesn’t hurt to say thanks.”

“Say hi from me too,” you yelled over the running kitchen sink. After a moment more, the water shut off and Jon released a silent sigh at the absence of an irritating bit of noise. He was lucky the x-ray vision hadn’t started acting up. Not only was that like the antithesis of Christmas presents (his mom kept presents out of the house or in a lead box until morning for that very reason), but it was also a huge pain and the hardest to hide. Screwy touch and hearing was more than enough. Dishware clanked around in the kitchen as Damian sat beside Jon on the couch.

“No change?” He asked, reaching for a Nightwing mug of cider on the coffee table.

Jon shrugged. “Nope, nothing yet.” Damian narrowed his eyes and Jon attempted to start coming up with excuses. At the very least, he could probably get Damian to leave it alone until after gifts. Less so if you noticed too and started teaming up on him.

“Ready for presents?” You asked, sitting down on the other side of Damian. You raised the untouched Superman mug to your lips, eyes scanning over Jon.

“Yes!” Jon butt in before you could say anything. “Let’s do it.”

You and Damian exchanged a look. On the floor below, the elevator dinged, releasing a family with a horde of kids. “Okay,” you conceded, standing to grab the first load of presents.

In the apartment directly underneath, the front door squealed open. A load of presents was slammed down on the floor beside him. Three kids squealed “gramma!” in unison. Jon’s hoodie was all of the sudden suffocating him.

Jon jumped up and yanked the sweatshirt over his head, pawing the sleeves off before yanking his socks off too. He didn’t care where they ended up. His hands went up to press against his ears. Stumbling over his own feet, Jon meandered backwards until his back slammed into a wall and then slid down, knees up and head with ears still covered in between them. Sounds zoomed in and out. All of the sudden, he could hear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer playing eight floors down, then A Christmas Carol on someone’s TV across the street. Focus! Jon yelled at himself through all the noise. One steady beat came into focus, then another.

Until there was a soft item brushing his feet, Jon didn’t realize he had company. A steady beat pulsed in his ears, too loud even for its familiarity. He pulled the blanket close. Something plastic nudged his shoulder and Jon grabbed it instinctively, slamming special-made headphones over his ears. The sounds faded down into something manageable. Jon took a deep breath. And then another. He didn’t need to hear to know that the two of you were there. When he reached out tentatively with his sense of smell, the usual wave of cinnamon-vanilla-brown sugar-clove and somethings just the two of you tempered by pine and peppermint was comforting rather than overwhelming. Jon let it wash over him, clutching the soft weighted blanket to his chest.

When he cracked his eyes open, two blurs blinked into focus as his partners, leaning against the back of the couch and hands linked. Damian’s head rested on your shoulder, one of your hands tangled in his hair. Jon noticed as soon as Damian saw he was up. He almost slammed his head into your chin as he shot up and Jon huffed a laugh.

“Ameli?” Damian asked. Your eyes locked onto Jon’s.

“You guys shouldn’t sit on the floor,” Jon responded. “It’s bad for your backs.”

You offered Jon a hand, ignoring his remark completely. Jon’s chest ached. If you weren’t willing to banter, he’d scared you. “How are you feeling?”

Jon took the hand and stood, adjusting the headphones so they stayed on his head. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and reached his other hand out towards Damian before tugging the both of you up and towards the couch.

“I’m okay,” Jon reassured you, sitting down on the couch. “I promise.” When neither of you moved, he tugged you both down on top of him, interrupting the bat-assessment written all over Damian’s face.

“Promise like this morning?” Damian argued. Jon winced.

“Okay, yeah maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Been a self-sacrificial dumbass as if we don’t a) know you and b) want you to talk to us?” You cut in. Jon could read the hurt underneath the anger clear as day. His fingers brushed over two sets of knuckles, one scarred from years of fighting without protective gear, the other dry from the winter air.

“I know. I just wanted today to be a good day, you know? We never get uninterrupted holidays.” Jon resisted the urge to pull his hands away from yours and curl into himself. The two burning gazes on him were ones of love and concern, though, not judgment.

“And for some reason you think accommodating you makes the day worse, why?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t have an answer.

“We love you, Jon. Eres nuestro pareja. We picked ‘partners’ for a reason, yeah?” You squeezed his hand in yours.

“Yeah,” he agreed, head dropping to your shoulder. Silence was heavy in the room for a moment.

“You choose what we do next,” Damian stated, tugging the blacket from its bundled blob to instead cover you and Jon.

Jon moved from your shoulder to halfway on top of Damian, tugging you on top of him. “You guys are going to squish me in between you while we watch a movie and then we can do presents?”

You shot him a wicked smile. Jon shrieked as Damian pulled him bodily half on top of him along the couch, cut off when you landed nearly on top of Jon.

“Good?” You asked. Jon let himself sink into Damian, arms coming up to wrap around your waist.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.”

Damian grabbed the remote. “We’re not watching Elf.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at him.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent x gender neutral reader #emerson writes sometimes

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wukong-s-only-wife5000 · 5 months

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Heyo! So I was thinking about that baby fever thing I @ed u in earlier and I was thinking if maybe u could do some headcanons on what u think uh Reborn Wukong would be like as a dad to his newborn baby? I feel like he’d be such a good dad 🤭☺️

Papa Wukong: Reborn!Wukong.

Pair: dad!Wukong x mom!Reader.

Content/Trigger Warnings: cuteness overload, my 1st shot at writing headcanons.

Authors Notes: CAN I JUST MENTION HOW FUCKING CUTE HE LOOKS IN THIS PICTURE?! LIKE.... OMFG, MY HEART. Anyways, IDK if I did it right, but this had to be the first one I did. The idea has been plaguing my mind since I saw both this request and this art you're referring to. Might make a part 2, but I dunno.

Hope you enjoy! Wanted to make this extra special bc your support and feedback always make me smile. <3

____________________________

The audacity of this child to look so much like you.

Looked at his precious baby from over your shoulder just as the little angel opened their eyes and made eye contact. Made his world stop and his stone heart explode.

He was so cautious and a bit nervous when you asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. The second he had that infant in his arms… his world stopped for the second time.

They had his eyes, tail and little fuzzies all over, but they had your facial features, complexion, and hair colour that matched the fur.

If you thought he was overprotective with you, get ready for him to be the most vicious Monkey King there ever was.

He always made sure that you held that baby from beside him, not letting the child out of his peripheral vision.

Someone tried to kidnap the child once… let's just say they didn't live to regret it.

He tells the little one a lot of stories when they can't sleep, only if you and the others are asleep, though. He doesn't need you or Pigsy teasing him about being ‘adorable’ and all that nonsense, but he also doesn't want the little angel to disturb your sleep.

Sure he was lenient with forcing you to sleep regularly, but now? He made sure that an hour or two at most when the sun goes down, you and the baby are asleep. Whether that means he has to carry you both in his arms or not. If that became the case or even if your feet hurt too much to walk, then so be it.

Oh how he enjoys when such occasions do occur. Usually he’d carry your things so you could focus on the bundle, but when he has to carry you both, of course he forces Pigsy to carry them.

He loves holding you both in his arms, especially when you rest your head against his shoulder and tell him how much you love him. Thanking him for blessing you with your bundle of joy as you often did to her.

Whenever you camp out, too far from any village, he makes sure to make shelter for you and the baby near a tree to keep the little one out of the dew.

Makes the nest with the best items he could find and if it’s not enough for the both of you, he runs off to find other things that are even better.

If you pass a marketplace that sells anything soft? He ensures that the most comfortable ones are procured exclusively for you and your infant.

He enjoys watching you feed the bundle… cause… ya know. You're his wife. He also thinks the little sneeze they do every time they’re finished is absolutely adorable, and it melts his heart every.single.time.

He watches the baby closely when they reach the age to sit up on their own. He makes sure to be ready for when they fall over in case you're too slow to catch their head.

He loves the kid, sure, absolutely without a doubt… but sometimes he doesn't like it when all your attention is on the baby to the point you don't acknowledge him.

He's an amazing dad, but he’s an amazing husband and mate first. GIVE HIM ATTENTION, DAMMIT!

He’s still the same possessive Wukong, of course he’d get jealous if even the baby gets more attention than him. Give him snuggles when you get the chance, a plus if you hold him and the baby.

He still often gets you little gifts and things he thinks you may like, especially since he knows how stressed you've been since you got pregnant. It’s his doing, so it was the least he could do.

When the baby holds his finger and gurgles with that furrow you frequently did, he tells them not to talk to him with that attitude. Something that makes you smile, trying your best not to laugh. Especially when he scolds you for passing on that attitude to his precious infant.

When the baby does it with that large gummy smile that also reminded him of you, his heart soar. He'd have that content smile that makes any hardship worth it. You absolutely love that smile the most.

Despite the times he would frequently tell them not to ‘talk’ to you like that, he liked to say it served you right for passing down your sass in the first place.

When the baby gets old enough to eat mushed up fruit? He collects the ripest and juiciest ones for the both of you. Yes, he will beat Pigsy to a pulp if the gluttonous pig tested his luck to try taking some.

#request #x reader #monkey king #sun wukong #wukong #reborn sun wukong #reborn #monkey king reborn #reborn wukong #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong reborn x reader #sun wukong headcanons #wukong reborn headcanons

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bearhugsandshrugs · 6 months

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Prompts you say? Don't mind if I do!

Post game Tav and Gortash have a stable if very tentative partnership in ruling Baldur's gate.

Gortash is an inventor, he's got to be good at drawing/draftsmanship. Would love to see a Tav finding one of his many personal workbooks after a meeting. Full of meeting notes, but also lots of personal project ideas when clearly he's been bored during a meeting. Maybe there are rough schematics of the steel watch improvements, maybe drafts for other sorts of useful inventions.

Through all the snooping Tav has to admit that Gortash is a(n evil) genius.

But as they keep looking there's rough sketches made of Tav quickly in the heat of an argument, smiling during a party, trying not to fall asleep during a meeting. Maybe there's MORE than just one sketch that spans all the way back to that first encounter... Or even before through the first glimpses of the steel watch/scrying eyes (read someone headcanon that all they were controlled or provided by Gortash?)

Catching Enver's growing fascination with them...

Bonus points if they get caught snooping 👀💦

ughhhhh i am such a sucker for this side of him. honestly. i love it. i love this prompt. thank you.

It was a heat of the moment decision. After a particularly long meeting about employing the Steel Watch outside of Baldur's Gate, Tav and Gortash had, quite literally, run into each other. Tav's cup of by then cold coffee had spilled all over Gortash's clothes, and the Archduke had dropped his bundle of documents, paper flying down to the floor mixing with Tav's own notes. When she reached down to sort between his and her notebooks and letters and files, she accidentally grabbed his personal notebook, buried between her docs. She decided to keep it. For now.

Back at the guest room he'd provided her for the prolonged negotiations (this was day two of the expected six), Tav set down the stack of papers and poured herself a glass of wine, then settled at her desk to snoop through his personal affairs. The notebook dated years back, and it was extensively filled; the many many pages brimming with orderly, clean handwriting and meticulous sketches. It gave her a rare insight into his mind: Machinery manuals, engineering instructions, weight calculations, and various use cases for specific parts of (what she recognized as) the Steel Watch, the Iron Throne, and even the Scrying Eyes. There were some notes scribbled in between the margins ("Overload? Recalculate max. magical proximity" – "Visual specs tbd" – "input variables formula needed"), hinting at the genius behind the notes. Tav swallowed as she flipped pages upon pages, fascinated by the man she still couldn't quite place.

There were different sketches two thirds into the notebook: Minthara, hunched over a table in the goblin camp. Moonrise Towers. And then. Her.

Tav recognized herself immediately. He'd captured the moment she had waved into the Scrying Eye at the Goblin camp, a small note below simply reading: "Wiped them out. Sense of humor. Who is she?" What followed were details of the orders given to the Absolute cultists, bargains made with Orin ("Hot but insane. Staying away.") and Ketheric ("He's a fool. A useful fool."). Then, after their first real life meeting, it started.

An entire page, filled with sketches of her face, her body, her movements. One drawing was of her furrowing her brow ("Won't back down, annoying"). One was of her crossing her arms ("Will consider offer – good"). Others were of Tav walking out of the coronation, rolling her eyes, waving him off, and then, the last one, was of her, pouting.

More meeting notes followed that page, and once she got to the meetings they attended together, there were yet again more drawings of her. A meeting about taxation featured a study of her eyes and mouth. A meeting about refugees was adorned with sketches of her smile. A meeting about guard rotations included... Tav gasped.

Behind her, an all too familiar chuckle made her jump in her chair.

"Good book?", Gortash asked, walking over to lean against her desk. Tav's face burned red. She shouldn't have snooped. But that last – "They're probably not as realistic as the rest", he nodded towards the page that had left her speechless. "It's difficult without the real life comparison." His gaze trailed down to her breasts, and Tav pushed herself away from the desk, then stood up to create space between them, not wanting to give into the tension that had started to build.

"You can't sketch... this", she gestured at the page, "during work. What if anyone sees?" Gortash shrugged. "Accidents happen." It was quite clear what he meant by that. "Stop", she shook her head. "What if I don't want to?" He asked her, voice low and dangerous. "Besides... looks like I'm not the only one taking liberties. Or why is my personal notebook on your desk in the first place?"

There wasn't a good answer to that. And the drawings she had seen, of her, of her body, of her with him, had left her mouth dry and her focus hazy. As vulgar as those sketches were, there were also parts of him he had sketched, parts she now couldn't get out of her head. Everything else had been sketched realistically, down to the last detail. Did he.... look like–

"I can tell you have lots on your mind", Gortash chuckled, following her eyes that had subconsciously settled back onto the open page. "Best I'll leave you to it." Tav wanted to object, but she also wanted him to leave, lock her door, and maybe take an ice cold bath. The words only found her once he closed the notebook in his hands. "They're slightly off", she said, and she wished she could sketch, because the way his eyes widened was worth documenting. "Plus I doubt that's the face I make when–" "Oh?" "I just thought you should know." They stared into each other's eyes, sizing each other up. "I'll make sure to run the next draft by you for approval", he pulled back after a moment, unwilling to move beyond the current state between them. "Thank you." And with that, he walked out of her room so swiftly she couldn't even reply. This was bad.

A heat of the moment decision indeed. Otherwise Tav couldn't explain why she felt like her body was on fire.

Fuck.

#enver gortash #gortash x tav #i'm sorry to end it on that note but i have already written too much #anyway yes afterwards this intensifies and they 100000% fuck eventually #my writing #drabbles

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