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#such pure little beans these two
kasieli · 11 months
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Poppy and Ominis deserve the world thank you and goodnight
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naeviskz · 2 months
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“ PRETTY , PLEASE ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── FLX
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synopsis ; you think your roommate is really pretty, but you think he’s even prettier when he whines and begs for you.
genre 숌 virgin!felix x fuckgirl!reader | roommates AU
words - 4.0k+ tags/warnings 숌 fluff, pwp, smut, (slight age difference: felix is 23/reader is 25), sub!felix/dom!reader, noona kink?, perv!lix, oral (m), solo masturbation, corruption kink, edging, dacryphilia, rlly cute & soft ending tho <3
☆ 彡
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Have you ever met someone so pure and innocent that you feel the need to shield them from any and all bad influences that might corrupt them?
Those were your exact thoughts when you first locked eyes with your new roommate Felix. You thought he was the most precious little bean ever ;( His shy, timid nature made you want to coddle him like a baby, and always spoke in such a polite, well-mannered tone due to you being his senior. At first Felix didn’t talk very much when he moved in and was constantly cooped up in his room doing god knows what, but eventually he’d warm up to you and the two of you soon became really good friends.
You don’t particularly like most men, you tend to get annoyed with them easily, only using them for a quick fuck because that’s all they’re good for. Personally, you didn’t care to start getting serious with anyone at the moment, prioritizing work and other future goals instead of boys who come and go. Felix was quite literally the only exception to this. You genuinely enjoyed his company and valued him as more than a friend, he was so easy to talk to and could make anyone in a room feel comfortable with his presence.
You loved how he never made a fuss about chores when you didn’t feel like doing them. He was never rude or brought strangers over, and he kept to himself most of the time— the perfect roommate ever. Felix was studying biology at school to become a veterinarian as he’s told you many times he loves animals before. You were already out of school by now, as you graduated 2 years ago but you didn’t mind living with someone a couple years younger. He’s very mature for being in his early twenties, even more than some of the 30+ year old “men” you’ve slept with in the past.
One thing you’ve noticed since he’s always keeping to himself, he takes his schooling very serious and constantly studies. He never drinks, smokes, or goes out to parties, but he doesn’t act better than anyone either, it’s just how he is. You’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their work, wondering in the back of your mind if he even knows what taking a break means. You’ve tried getting to invite him out to other social events but he would always say that studying was far more important, you seriously never seen someone be so obsessed with school. Before you graduated, you weren’t a straight A student by any means but you did care about your grades, overall you still managed to balance a social life within.
Felix was never the judgmental type, he didn’t care if you brought a lot of friends over or the occasional hook up you’d have, he would just turn a blind eye to most of those things. You didn’t think it’d ever impact the way you both interacted but unfortunately after a while things have started to get a bit awkward between you. He’s been awfully more quiet these days and whenever you two would walk by in passing he could barely even look at you. Any time he did, it was if he’d seen a ghost or something— the way his face went pale from being drained of all color and would immediately hurry back into his room.
You don’t know what’s up with him but the more he’s been treating you this way the more you feel like he doesn’t seem to like you very much anymore. This weekend you plan to have a quick chat with him about everything and to clear up some potential misunderstandings. Little do you know the real reason why he’s been keeping his distance from afar…
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God he feels like such a creep for eavesdropping on you having sex with someone else right now.
It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he simply walked past your door without a second thought but as he came closer he heard what is presumably you moaning out another guy’s name. That’s when it piques his curiosity to listen further, he’s only heard this type of stuff from watching porn but it’s a whole different experience when in real life. He should feel more than embarrassed about doing this, ashamed for invading his roommates privacy in such a horrid way but he doesn’t move. Only continuing to press his ear up against the mahogany door, getting a clearer sound of your wanton moans, feeling something shift.. a familiar throbbing sensation causes the sudden constriction in his pants.
He’s far too gone to even think about stopping at this point, subconsciously dragging his hand further down as he comes in contact with his hardened cock. All he could hear was skin slapping, imagining you bent over the bed while taking it from behind, arching your back as you pant louder for them to go faster and faster. Felix continues to feel himself through the constraints of his clothing but it wasn’t enough for him, it wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort down there. So he ends up going back to his room to finish his little fap sesh, ridding himself of everything, t-shirt, sweats, boxers— ready to finish what he accidentally started.
“___, please..” he’d stir in his bed, going to town on his cock as he pumps his hand around it, thinking about you on top of him. “Noona.. m’so close…” he whimpers out desperately, feeling so overly sensitive that his body’s buzzing with pleasure.
Felix was so overwhelmed in his thoughts he barely noticed the precum leaking out and spilling around his small hand, his eyes were completely shut and zoned out in utter bliss. He wishes nothing more than to have you doing this to him instead, wondering what it’s like to have a girl as hot as you jerk his cock for him, he’s never experienced what it’s like but he’d want you to be his first if he ever does. It frustrates him that he can’t have you in the same way those other guys do, they’re more experienced and can please you better than he could.
One thing he knows now is that he’ll never be able to look at you normally again after doing all of this.
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Things just couldn’t get any worse for him at this point. He’s now found a pair of your underwear which has mistakenly ended up in his laundry somehow. He didn’t do know what to do … if he tells you it accidentally got mixed in with his stuff then you’ll probably accuse him of stealing them as an excuse. Plus he didn’t want to face the embarrassment of even handing these back to you. It was a really pretty pair too, a red lace thong with black trim and a cute satin bow on the front. He wonders how your ass would look in these panties, secretly getting so jealous of all your hook ups and how they’ve all got to see you naked.
Felix decides the best course of action is to quickly return them in your room before you finish showering. He’ll simply sneak into your room, put them back in your underwear drawer, and he won’t have to think about it again, this was going to be the easiest plan of execution. Boy could he have been any more wrong. He couldn’t find which drawer they were supposed to be in, essentially wasting more and more time trying to find where to stash them. He honestly could’ve hid them anywhere but he was paranoid about that seeming suspicious too. Then he just considers possibly keeping them for himself. Playing with the fabric in his hands as he thinks of the idea to jerk his cock with your underwear wrapped around it. If only you knew the things he wanted you to do to him..
“What’re you doing in my room Lixie?” You question your roommate’s intentions as you walk in from getting out in the shower. You catch him holding something in his hands but quickly stuffs the object away in his pockets.
Fuck he’s totally screwed. There’s no going back from this now.
“Uh- nothing! I was just about to leave actually-” just as he attempts to make a run for it, he turns around and comes face to face with you in just a bath towel.
He’s legitimately gone crazy now, stopping dead in his tracks to gawk at your beauty. You exude high levels of sex appeal without even trying, it’s almost intimidating being in the same room as you. Felix thought you look absolutely gorgeous in your natural state, noticing the fresh water droplets still glistening on your skin and wet strands of hair sticking to your face. He really wants to know what’s underneath that singular layer, sensing another uncomfortable situation down there.
“Don’t be silly Lix, you looked like you were looking for something. What’re you holding?” You continue asking but he refuses to give any solid answers, telling you over and over how it’s “nothing” and he wasn’t lying but something didn’t seem right about his behavior.
You saw he put something in his pocket from earlier, so without a second thought you reach into that same pocket to grab whatever was in there. Everything happened so fast Felix didn’t even have time to process what was going on, mortified when he sees you pulling out a pair of your underwear from his sweatpants.
“Why do you have these?” Your expression was stone cold, you genuinely looked pissed off and it was starting to frighten him. He didn’t think you’d actually be upset about this but now he wishes he had just hid it somewhere randomly.
“It’s not what it looks like ___, you’ve got the wrong idea!”
“No I definitely know what’s going on here. Didn’t ever really take you as the type to be such a perv,” you chuckle at his horrible attempt in making any excuses. Coming closer to him now, placing both palms on his shoulders, you get all the way up to his ear and whisper, “I like perverts though ‘cause I’m one too.”
His face burned a crimson shade, growing flustered at your sudden dirty confession. The only thing he could do was gulp out of nervousness, even more worried if you discover the massive hard on he’s sporting in his pants. A subtle smirk forms onto your lips, debating where you should kiss and mark first but you want to take your time with someone like Felix— he’s too pretty not to. You lightly brush your lips against his neck, as if he’s so fragile and delicate, making him tremble from the sudden cool air you blow against his skin.
Felix felt his heart beating out of his chest, internally panicking at what’s soon to come. It’s not like he didn’t want any of this to happen, he’s just worried out his mind and tends to overthink everything. Those anxious thoughts were soon adjourned with a pair of soft lips against his trembling ones, eyes bulging out from the sudden shock of your actions. He stood there awkwardly for a bit as he’s never kissed someone before, he doesn’t know how he should react but he mimics your movements. You deepen the kiss even further, gently caressing the side of his face into your palm— his body was so stiff it made you feel self conscious about you making the first move. He was kissing you back but it didn’t feel like there was any emotion behind it, everything he’s doing seems so robotic and manufactured. You’re starting to think he may not actually be enjoying this.
“Something wrong?” You cautiously pull away to voice concern, regretting everything if he’s uncomfortable by your advances.
He mentally curses himself, feeling more upset at you thinking you’re the problem. “N-no… you’re perfect. This is perfect, it’s just- I’ve never done it before..” His voice trails off towards the end, embarrassed by his lack of experience.
“You’ve never had sex before?” You blink in confusion, it was seemingly impossible for someone as attractive as Felix to have never had a single sexual encounter in his life. However, you’d be more than happy to change that.
“No.” He shook his head, frowning at his sad revelation that he’s a 23 year old virgin.
“Awee, s’cute. I get to be your first!” You couldn’t help but find that to be so adorable, you haven’t took someone’s virginity since freshman year of college, it excites you all over again.
He’s seemingly surprised by the way you respond, “You’re not put off by that?” Most girls in your position wouldn’t want to deal with someone like him. He needs to be trained, taught exactly how to please a woman the way she needs to— which you’re more than capable of doing.
“No, why would I be?” It’s not everyday you hear a guy as handsome as Felix say that they’re a virgin, it intrigues you in some capacity. You want him to become your cute little plaything, someone only you can corrupt exactly the way you want.
“So you’ve never pleasured another girl before? Like not even fingering?” You delve deeper with more questions, wanting to know everything he’s done or hasn’t.
He shook his head yet again, “no, I’ve never done anything.”
This was unlike anything you’ve seen before, at least the other guys you knew who were virgins had actually done a few other things but this was new for you. The fact he was able to confide in you with something so personal made you want to be his first so badly. Maybe this was perfect— you were way more experienced than him so you can show him the ropes, how it’s really done. You express to him that it’s okay he was inexperienced, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and he’s in good hands now.
“What if I don’t do it right?” Felix looks so worried, his adam’s apple bobbed each time he nervously swallowed.
“You won’t because I’m here,” you reassure him by placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, flashing a warm smile. “I’ll show you how to, don’t be shy it’s fine baby. Just lye back on the bed and I’ll take care of you pretty.”
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He did everything he was told, all instructed by you. Lying down on the bed with his back against your pink silk pillow, the black tee he wore slightly rode up, causing you to get a glimpse of his tummy. It was too cute not to touch, your nimble fingers travel up his waist to raise his shirt higher, feeling up his lower body.
Felix felt so powerless as you hover over his frame, both your legs on either side of his, enclosing him in such a tight space. Taking slow, deep exhales, he grows more tense as you slide your hands north, it’s a whole new sensation he’s never felt before. His breath hitched at you suddenly coming in contact with his nipple, brushing over it ever so slightly to elicit a subtle reaction. You love how sensitive he’s become to any minor touch you provide, feeling your arousal leak further down to your thighs as you think of turning him into your personal slut.
“Should I take this off?” You suddenly propose an idea, referring to the bath towel that was hanging on you by a thread. It was seemingly already coming undone as you didn’t tie the front properly, he was able to get a good view of your chest peaking out at the top.
“Mhmm..” Felix hums in sexual frustration, unable to get a clear word or sentence out in any possible way.
You oblige, biting your lip seductively at him as you reach to untie the loose knot, slowly prying the towel off your body that’s now completely dry. “Let’s start off with something easy,” you carefully suggest, traveling your hands down to the band of his gray joggers, lightly tugging them down to reveal his boxer briefs.
The tiny, blond, freckled boy is staring up at you with his big bambi eyes, he can’t believe there’s a naked girl on top of him while he’s still partially fully clothed. All the blood surges to his cock, making him so painfully hard he’s never been so desperate for someone to touch him in his life. Hips bucking into nothing as he humps the air for any stimulation, you couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped your mouth. Finding him to be so utterly pathetic.
You lean in to kiss him again, never quite getting enough of the yummy taste of him. Tracing your index finger over the outline of his bulge, you feel him pulse underneath as you keep teasing him with more light touches. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip as your free hand gets tangled in his platinum locks. You eventually sprung his cock freely out the constraints of his briefs, watching it stick straight up from being so unbelievably hard. His cock was gorgeous, about 6 inches in length and 2.5” thick, his tip was an angry, ruby red but the rest a blush pink color. Your fingers laced around his shaft, getting closer to spit directly on it before giving him a few moderate pumps. Felix threw his head back slightly, gripping the bedsheets in utmost pleasure, whimpering loudly as he ruts his hips to match the movements of your hand. Unable to hold back from just how good you’re making him feel he calls your name out again and again. His deep voice only gets raspier, a beautifully stark contrast to his angelic face being stuck in euphoria. As your pace increases he only gets more vocal, panting heavily while begging to cum as his jaw slacks wide open. Flashes of white invade his vision, everything around him becomes to fade into a blur. That’s when it all gets abruptly ripped away from him, soon as your hand withdraws his cock he opens his eyes again. His lips quivered in devastation, feeling as though he could cry from this.
“W-why’d you stop?” He whines out of frustration, wanting so badly to cum all over your hand.
The sight of him made you so incredibly turned on. Obsessed with the mess you’ve created so far, his flushed, rosy cheeks with drool seeping down his chin, his precum has leaked out everywhere.
You don’t answer, only chuckling at his misery. It’s fun to play with him, see how far you can push him in getting to do whatever you want.
“Want me to suck your cock, hmm? Say pretty please and I’ll make you feel so good.” Never breaking eye contact as you say it, getting off on the fact you have all the control and he’s totally helpless in your hold.
Felix is reluctant to speak at first, but he chokes up the courage to stutter out a plea, “P-pretty please.. Noona please...” lifting his hips just to feel something— you aggressively force them back down with your hand.
A devilish smirk forms across your face, you didn’t know he was the type to call you that. You want to reward him even more but only if he can be good and does everything exactly your way.
“Don’t cum ‘til I say you can. Got it?” You flash a look that’s anything but merciful, getting a rush from this dominant role you happen to take on surprisingly well.
He nods obediently, understanding what the consequences may be if he doesn’t listen. He wants to try his best to please you in any way he can, it’s the least he can do when you’re the one doing most of the work.
Wrapping your lips around his tip, you feel him twitch instantly inside your mouth, opening just a bit to swirl your tongue along his member. His cock feels slightly sore from being edged once before, gasping when he feels the plushness of your lips on him. Sinking further down, you fully take his length in your mouth now, head bobbing up and down to get the entirety of his cock down your throat. Felix couldn’t move, think, let alone breathe properly— he’s so far gone that the only thing consuming his mind is you.
“Like getting your cock sucked baby?” You coo, bringing your hand to gently caress his balls, making him cry out even more.
He only frantically nods in response, too weak and too lost in the feeling to speak, “Mmm…” he mumbles, he’s so close but he can’t cum, he has to resist the urge but it’s so difficult. There’s no way he’s going to be able to keep this up for much longer.
“Use your words Lixie,” suddenly pulling away from his balls, “or else I’m going to stop again.”
He’s back to being whiny again, not wanting to be edged so cruelly like last time, he finally chokes out a reply, “Y-yes.. I love it.”
You really love the way he sounds, you could listen to him like this all day. Back to what you were doing previously, your mouth completely takes him in, lashes fluttering up at him while you’re doing the most unholy act there is. His brain goes fuzzy as he can’t get over how amazing this feels, broken moans escaping his throat from the warmth of your tongue enveloping his cock. Humming around him in response to his constant throbbing, Felix hisses from the vibrations throughout his body. He’s trembling with so many nerves hitting all once, it’s all so new to him; this might just be the most intense feeling he’s ever had.
“Nggh… gonna cum- can’t hold it anymore..” he meekly warns, tears roll down his face as it begins to be too much for him to bear.
You decide to let him this time, feeling a little sense of sympathy for a cutie pie like him. There’s always next time you can edge him and break him down until he babbles and cries even harder. Your core aches just thinking about all the fantasies you’ll bring to life soon, it’ll never be a boring day from now on.
“Go ahead baby, cum in my mouth,” you urge him to finish by going faster, sucking him off like your life depends on it.
He can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, pushing him to the edge as he’s thrashing around the bed, moaning and crying out all types of profanities. The last words he spoke before he came was pure gibberish, too busy focusing on his release shooting out— he lulls his head back into the pillow from exhaustion. He doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard in his entire life. His eyes rolled back as you greedily swallow his cum, still continuing to suck like he wasn’t mewling for you to stop. More of his load comes out as you keep going, milking every last drop of him until he’s all drained out and empty.
Finally letting go of his cock, you pull away as you make a loud ‘pop’ with your mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting you to his crotch.
“You did so good for me Lixie,” you praise sweetly, coming up to kiss his pouty lips after you’d just sucked him dry. He kisses back immediately, getting a taste of his release on your tongue, “c’mere puppy,” you motion him to come along once you pull away.
He’s not sure what you have in mind but he follows anyway, blindly letting you boss him around at this point. Felix enjoys every second of it though, you may have unlocked something he never knew he needed.
Your hands run over his shoulders, “How ‘bout we run you a bath, yeah?” Your voice is as low and gentle as a whisper, sounding as though you didn’t just do those unspeakable things minutes ago. He’s more at ease you’ve turned into a sweeter, more compassionate version of yourself now, “I think my precious baby deserves it.”
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- 完 ︎♡︎
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cupid-styles · 11 days
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yours (ymls check-in)
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in which y/n just wants to be harry's — officially.
word count: 3.8k
content warnings: parenting/family stuff (y/n and harry are parents), smut (breeding kink, slight size kink, literal one "mommy" mention, dirty talk)
ymls masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Parenthood is difficult.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, so it takes Harry and Y/N approximately two minutes of bringing Clementine into the world to come to the same realization. Her loud wails break their hearts every time, sleep becomes a luxury, and breastfeeding takes an incredible toll on Y/N’s physical and mental health.
But in the same way that parenting is hard and filled with tears and confusion, it’s just as — if not more — rewarding.
Clementine is the best thing that’s ever happened to each of them. Harry can’t remember a version of his life where he wasn’t head-over-heels in love with his sweet baby girl, and Y/N has softened up a considerable amount now that she spends most of her day cooing to her daughter. 
It’s not perfect by any means — Clem is a tried-and-true daddy’s girl and sometimes it hurts Y/N’s feelings. Clementine also inherited her mom’s grumpy exterior and, in the middle of a visit from Harry’s parents or Y/N’s sister, will starfish her body, going completely rigid until one of her parents takes her. (Harry always thinks it’s funny while Y/N is embarrassed by it. It’s something they’re working on as a family.)
Beyond their little trio, though, lies a larger situation that’s been conveniently tucked away since Clementine was born: Harry and Y/N’s relationship. 
They never decided what they were after confessing feelings for one another. One day, they lived separately and were going the route of platonic co-parenting. The next, Harry moved all his things into Y/N’s, ended the lease on his own apartment, and painted the guest room a pretty pastel pink. 
At first, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. Y/N has never cared for labels on relationships, and their devotion to each other was blatant — they were parenting a child together, after all. He kissed her good morning, they held hands on family walks, and at the end of the day, they were crawling into bed together. She didn’t need a ring or a title to reiterate where she stood in Harry’s life.
Until… well, until the supermarket incident.
It was a rainy day, but Y/N wanted to pop into the store before they rounded the corner to head back home. Now that Clementine’s pediatrician gave them the okay to start trying out solid foods — or, as solid as baby food can be — Harry had gotten really into making it from scratch. Currently, their kitchen was a mess of sweet potato, apple, and green bean purees, but Y/N was trying to be supportive, even if the noise of the blender sometimes woke Clem up from her afternoon nap. She remembered him mentioning a new recipe he found for carrots, mangos, and bananas, so she figured they could grab the ingredients on their way home. 
Clementine looked adorable in her cute little rain jacket and matching hat. Harry couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, and as they dipped into the produce aisle, stroller in tow, she remembered they needed another gallon of milk since they were trying to wean Clem off of Y/N’s breast milk. 
“You guys can stay right here, it’s just in the next aisle,” Y/N said, arms stuffed with produce bags. Harry nodded, though his attention primarily laid on Clementine’s gummy smile. Y/N snorted to herself as she quickly shuffled off to the dairy section — the duo were two peas in a pod, but she didn't think she would want it any other way. 
Glancing down at her watch, she put a pep in her step as she walked back to the produce aisle. They had about 15 minutes before Clem started getting antsy and whiney about her pre-dinner nap, and she didn’t want her to get upset on their walk home. 
Only, when she turned the aisle, Harry and Clementine weren’t alone anymore — no, there were two women standing with them, cooing over their daughter. 
“She’s so precious! How old is she?” one of them asked.
“Ah, almost eight months,” Harry replied bashfully, petting down the tuft of brown curls at the top of Clementine’s head. Y/N clenched her jaw. Why had he taken her hat off? It was supposed to protect her from the rain! 
“So sweet,” the other woman grinned, reaching out to thumb over Clementine’s puffy cheek. The vision sent a pang of jealousy through Y/N’s chest — her baby wasn’t some kind of doll that anyone could just touch! Clutching the produce and container of milk in her hands, Y/N all but marched over to the stroller and threw them in the bottom compartment. 
“Ready to go, honey?” 
Harry blinked at Y/N, a world of confusion swirling in the green eyes he shared with his daughter. She stayed silent and still, knuckles white from gripping the stroller handle so tightly. 
“Yeah,” he finally replied, leaning down to gently place Clementine back in her seat, “This is Y/N, Clementine’s mum.”
“Oh, your baby is so sweet! Harry was just raving about you!” one of the women nearly squealed. Y/N smiled tightly as she watched him buckle Clementine in.
“Okay, say bye bye, Clem,” Harry murmured. They’d been trying to teach her how to wave hello and goodbye, but Y/N would rather scoop her own eyeballs out than watch her do it for the first time with these women. 
In fact, she was already pushing the stroller down the end of the aisle before they could even get the word “bye” out.
Since that day about two weeks ago, it’s been constantly replaying in the back of Y/N’s brain. Even though Harry didn’t think much of it (she knows this because he immediately started talking about nonsense on the walk home), for the first time, it plucked at a chord of insecurity that she didn’t even know she had. She’d always felt fairly secure in her relationship with Harry — he’d all but begged her for this life together, and he’d been incredibly involved from the moment she got pregnant — so how is that two random strangers at the supermarket tore this out of her? 
It bothered her so deeply to the point where she did something she’d never done before: Ask Lea for relationship advice. 
“In the years I’ve known you, you have never asked me for help with a man,” Lea had said, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly met her hairline. Y/N grumbled as she wrapped her hand around her matcha, avoiding eye contact with her friend. She’d been able to sneak out for an afternoon coffee date with her while Harry took Clementine to the park. “You’re always so… sure of yourself. And you have a literal child with Harry. What gives?”
Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her lips together nervously. “You should’ve seen the way those girls were all over him. It was… gross.”
“It’s normal to feel jealous, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“I am not jealous,” she muttered, “I just… he introduced me as Clementine’s mom. Don’t you think I’m a bit… more than that to him?”
“Of course you are. But you’ve never had that conversation, have you?”
“Like you said, we have a baby together. What else could you need?”
Lea smirked, “That’s all that you need. But he probably needs a bit more confirmation than that.”
Y/N bristled as she stuck her straw between her lips, taking a long sip. 
“He knows we’re in a relationship, doesn’t he?” 
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, “Dom and I used to hear all the gossip about you two before Clem was born, but since then, I think he’s just been focused on making sure you and her are both taken care of.”
“So what do I do?” Y/N asked through a sigh, leaning back against the worn leather of the booth. 
“Talk to him,” Lea said easily, “But… maybe don’t do it in your rough-and-tough-Y/N way. Maybe… make it a little special. He likes that, y’know? Little romantic gestures?”
Y/N scrunched her face. Lea was right — Harry was all about the little things, like surprising her with flowers or waking her up with breakfast in bed on the weekends. And while Y/N was positive she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, she’d certainly attempt to find one if it meant making Harry happy. 
. . .
A few days later, Harry walks into his shared apartment with Y/N to the scent of something delicious. 
“Y/N?” he calls as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. They weren’t due for company, were they? He doesn’t think so, but with eight months straight of four to five hours of sleep each night, he had trouble remembering anything that wasn’t Clementine-related. 
He follows the fragrance into the kitchen, where Y/N is standing over the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of some sort of sauce. She jumps, hand over her heart, when he goes to greet her. 
“Jesus fuck, you scared me!” she exclaims, the wooden spoon nearly clattering to the floor. He smirks and lets out an amused laugh as he walks towards her, observing the array of pans on the stovetop. 
“What’s all this for?” he asks. Y/N presses a hand to his muscular chest and attempts to block him from seeing anything. 
“I’m making you dinner,” she mumbles, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Clem’s with my sister for the night.”
“Oh?”
She nods. 
“Did I forget a special occasion?”
She shakes her head.
“Then how come I’m getting spoiled tonight?”
Her cheeks warm at that, but they both pretend her blush is invisible. “I just wanted to do something… romantic for you.” 
“Romantic?” he repeats the word like it’s a bizarre concept and it makes a pit form in Y/N’s stomach, “That’s… sweet of you. Thank you.”
She nods, albeit a bit robotically. “Um. Yeah. It’ll be ready in like 5 minutes.”
“Sounds good,” he replies, “Do you want me to set the table?”
She shakes her head bashfully and Harry raises an eyebrow. “I already did that.”
Her demure nature makes a smile form at the edges of his lips and he reaches out to press a hand to her hip, squeezing gently. 
“Y’okay?” he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her. “You seem nervous.”
Y/N shrugs and it supplies him with a tepid answer. “I just wanna make this nice for you.”
His heart breaks a bit at that and he ducks lower to catch her lips in a short, sweet kiss. PDA isn’t irregular for them — not with touch being Harry’s primary love language — so it’s unsurprising to be on the receiving end of one of his dizzying kisses, even if it ends quicker than she’d like. 
“This is already so special to me. I do miss Clem, though.”
She snorts at that as he brushes his nose against hers. “Of course you do. She’s your mini me.”
“Except when she’s making that grumpy little face. That’s all you.”
Y/N lightly bats at his chest before mumbling out to go sit down in the dining room. 
Harry’s eyes widen when he sees the candlelit table — he can’t remember the last time they ate on actual plates, always opting for take-out containers or paper plates for the sake of convenience. He swallows as he sits down and listens to Y/N shuffle around the kitchen. He hears her curse, followed by what sounds like her emptying pasta into a colander — she always burns herself whenever she does that, and he can envision the slight grimace that appears on her face. 
Just as he’s getting antsy and preparing himself to ask if she needs any help, Y/N appears from the kitchen with a big bowl of pasta. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she places it on the table, then stands up straight. She looks like a soldier waiting to be told to return to their duties.
“Um… I made us that roasted red pepper pasta you like.” she says, wringing her hands out in front of her. “I hope that’s fine.”
“That’s great,” Harry nods, gesturing to the seat across from him, “Sit down. You look like you’re gonna have an aneurysm. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” Y/N grumbles as she sits down, and the sound of her grouchy voice makes him chuckle as he grabs her bowl to serve her, “I know I’m not, like… the most romantic person, or even the easiest person to be around, so it’s important to me that I make this really good for you.”
“I hate when you say that,” he murmurs before placing her full bowl in front of her. He moves to serve himself, “You’re the easiest person I’ve ever been around. You’re a great mum and I love being a parent with you.”
Y/N swallows as she listens to him, leaving her food untouched. He watches her and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly. 
“Is that… all I am to you?” she asks softly with low eyes. Harry furrows his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?”
“Like… am I still just a co-parent to you?” 
He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, we never really talked about it, I guess. But you know you’re more than that to me.”
“You’re more than just Clem’s dad to me,” she continues. “And it kinda hurt my feelings when you introduced me to those girls as ‘Clementine’s mom’ a few weeks back.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“I know.”
His heart strains at the thought of hurting her feelings, but he also knows that what happened in the supermarket was weeks ago. Had she been sitting on it and thinking about it all this time?
“I never want to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. To be honest, I don’t know how to refer to you but… I’d say you’re my partner, yeah? You’re my teammate in raising our beautiful girl and I love getting to live life with you.”
Her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. “But what if… what if you called me your girlfriend, too?”
Harry’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to place his hand on her knee, squeezing softly.
“Would you want that?” he asks. “I’ll only do it if that’s what you want.”
She looks up at him and nods. Her eyes are glassy and it makes Harry’s chest tighten. Suddenly, he needs to be closer to her, so he stands up and scoops her into his arms. At first she rejects his touch, mumbling out sentiments about still having postpartum weight, but Harry shushes her and pulls her into his lap. 
“Tell me what you’re feeling, Y/N.” he murmurs. He leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the side of her neck. She shivers and he keeps his hands as solid anchors on her hips. 
“I want you to call me your girlfriend,” she says, lifting her gaze to look at him. “I don’t want you to entertain any other person or let them flirt with you or touch our baby. I just want it to be the three of us, always.”
If Harry’s being honest, he would have been content with living in this gray, in-between area with Y/N for the rest of their lives. He was happy — so incredibly happy to be in her life, to sleep next to her every night, to raise a gorgeous baby girl with her. He felt fortunate to be there for every moment, good and bad — but he would be a liar if he said he hadn’t been waiting for the day where she told him what was really going on in that pretty head of hers.
He presses a chaste kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says quietly, soft fingertips smoothing over the expanse of her hip, “You’re my girlfriend, okay? Not just Clemmie’s mum. You’re so much more than that.”
She nods her head and Harry smiles gently at how flustered she continues to be — it’s a side of her that he rarely sees, and the sight makes a low chuckle sound from deep in his chest. 
“You’re silly,” he mumbles against the shell of her ear. “Isn’t that what you are? A silly baby desperate to be mine?”
Y/N bristles and swallows harshly, keeping her gaze low in his lap. His smirk only grows as he begins to press slow kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. Her eyes flutter closed. 
“Everyone thinks you’re this pretty, grumpy girl, but I know better than that,” he continues, sliding his hands beneath her tee-shirt to feel her warm skin, “You’re loving and kind. The best mum I’ve ever seen. The best partner and the best girlfriend, too. Isn’t that right, mama?”
She gasps wetly and he feels her thighs threaten to clench, but his hips prevent her from getting any relief. He hums, satisfied with her response and, in a quick movement, pulls her shirt from her body and tosses it to the floor. Her swollen breasts sit prettily on her chest and he tries his best not to groan at the sight. 
“Don’t tease,” she mewls. He chuckles as she grasps at the fabric of his own tee-shirt, the soft material in the tight clutch of her knuckles. 
“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, though he knows the answer is an obvious and resounding yes. They haven’t had actual sex in at least a month, not with Clementine occupying 99% of their time. Even if he’s attempting to play it cool, his cock is hard and throbbing beneath layers of his clothing. He swears he can even feel the warmth of her pussy through her own clothes and it’s taking everything in him not to thrust up and grind against her. 
“Yes,” Y/N pants, shaky fingers digging beneath the waistband of his trousers to pull his length out, “S-stop playing around. You know it’s been too long.”
Harry laughs lowly and lifts his hips up to grant her enough space so she can retrieve his cock. She doesn’t even bother pushing his pants or briefs down, swallowing tightly at the sight of the ruddy tip already leaking with pre-cum. 
“Relax, baby,” he mumbles, grabbing one of her trembling hands and intertwining their fingers together, “Breathe, yeah? I’ll take care of my girl.”
Her pussy clenches at that — my girl — and she nibbles on her bottom lip eagerly when he pushes her soft shorts to the side to reveal her pussy. He wishes he had more willpower to look at what he’s been missing out on and his throat bobs when his eyes flicker down to the puffy clit tucked between her lips. He thinks they’ll both explode if he doesn’t get inside of her in the next two seconds, so he gives his cock a pump before he positions himself beneath her and slowly pushes in. 
Immediately, she whimpers out and he stalls, his free hand pressing rigidly into the skin of her thigh. 
“Y’alright?” 
“Yeah,” she whispers, “Tight fit.”
“I know.” he mutters, glancing up at her to read her expression. “Do you need me to pull out?”
She instantly shakes her head, “No, no. Keep going.”
Harry leans up to seal their lips in a messy, wet kiss as he continues pushing in as slowly as he can. He supposes he should’ve spent more time stretching her out, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Y/N over the past year, it’s that she’s always eager and ever determined to take him, even if it’s been weeks since their last time together.
When he’s finally all the way in, his balls snug against her bum, their kiss slows, though it doesn’t seem like Y/N has any plans to separate their mouths. He doesn’t move a muscle, even if he knows his cock is throbbing from the tightness of her pussy. And then, after what seems like an eternity, she nods.
Slowly, he begins to fuck up inside of her and breathy moans depart from her swollen lips. Harry’s mouth catches each one, punctuating every whimper with a gentle peck. 
“There you go, mama, take my cock. You’re doing so good, aren’t you?”
She only responds with a lilting whimper and he moans, feeling the way her pussy clenches around his length. It’s not the dirtiest sex they’ve had — not by a long shot — but god, if it doesn’t feel incredible knowing that they’re completely devoted to one another.
“You make me feel so good,” she mewls, making his eyes nearly roll back, “I love your cock— ‘s so good, Harry, want— want you to give me another baby.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, squeezing her hips hard, “Can’t just fucking say that stuff, baby. I’ll bust before you even cum.”
“D-don’t care,” she shudders, but he can tell she’s reaching her peak by the way her thighs begin to tremble, each of her muscles tightening. “Cum inside me, m-make me a mommy again.”
His chest vibrates with a deep groan and he reaches between them to pinch at her pearly clit, rubbing it in quick, tight circles. He’s seconds away from bursting himself, but he refuses to finish before she has a chance to. 
It barely takes a few loops around the bundle of nerves before she’s shaking in his lap, her pussy tensing around his length as she moans out his name over and over again. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he presses his forehead against her sweaty shoulder, shuddering as her orgasm triggers his own. As requested, he pumps his cock deep inside of her as he comes, pushing his seed as far as it’ll go. She whimpers from the sensation as pants fall from her lips, shivering every time he thrusts another rope of cum into her.
They’re both shaking by the time both of their orgasms taper off. Harry wraps his arms around her sweaty form, pulling her chest against his. 
“You’re mine, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You and Clem. We’re a family.”
Y/N nods, echoing his words. “Yours.”
They settle into a comfortable silence; Harry’s softening cock still inside. He’s unsure of how how long they stay there, but he does know that they’ll have to move eventually so he can clean her up. It’s only then that she sits up to look at him, her eyes soft and tired. 
“Harry?”
“Yeah?” 
“Will you get me Plan B tomorrow?” she asks, biting her lip. “I think Clem is… more than enough for me right now.”
He laughs and nods his head. 
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll pick some up for you tomorrow.”
857 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny
(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)
It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.
All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.
You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.
“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.
You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“
“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”
You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.
“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”
You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.
“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”
His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”
He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.
You meet his eyes.
And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.
And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.
“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”
You don’t dare answer.
“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”
You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.
“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”
He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.
“Soap!”
“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”
Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.
“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”
You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.
“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.
“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”
He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.
“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”
“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”
The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.
“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”
He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.
“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”
Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.
“Did… did you just…?”
“Say my name again,” he snarls.
You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”
“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.
“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.
“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.
“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”
He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.
“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”
Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -
“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.
And then a death sentence.
“Do it again.”
1K notes · View notes
lemonlover1110 · 7 months
Text
Double Trouble
Dad Series
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Toji Fushiguro
Warnings: Pure Fluff
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Picky eaters. Toji was blessed– or rather cursed with twins that are picky eaters. If it were up to Toji, they’d eat whatever they want until they realize it’s not good for them but unluckily for him, his wife wants to make sure the three-year-old twins eat their nutrients.
Toji serves them a beautiful plate with white rice, some steak cut into tiny pieces, black beans, and a green salad that contains lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, radish and cheese. It’s all small portions for the twins, but after two bites, they claim to be full. Toji has to stop eating just to look at them. He glares at them, and Toji wishes you were home right now to yell at the kids because when you do it, they understand what to do. When Toji yells at them… They ignore him.
“I’m full.” Koemi pushes her plastic plate away from her. Her twin follows her lead. Toji puffs out a breath.
“You’re not getting any dessert if you don’t eat it all.” Toji threatens, causing the twins to shrug. They’ll sneak their dessert later, when Toji falls asleep on the couch they can easily access the fridge and the freezer. It’s not a threat to them. Toji crosses his arms and then says, “You won’t get up from this table until you two finish all the food– And you’re not feeding it to Megumi’s dogs either.”
“Daddy…” Kisho sticks out his bottom lip. He read their tiny little minds. Toji looks at his own plate, and the twins begin to sneakily exchange the pieces of food that they like and when they encounter stuff that they both absolutely hate, they throw it on the floor. Within minutes, their plates are empty and Toji squints his eyes looking at the plates that suddenly don’t have a single grain of rice.
“You ate it all?” Toji asks, standing up from his chair and walking over to them. He doesn’t take note of the floor, he just vaguely searches the place for the dogs which aren’t nearby. 
“Open your mouths.” He orders, and they do it. “Let me check under your tongue.”
There’s no food in their mouths still, however, Toji continues to glare at them. He can’t find anything so he ends up sighing, “You can go.”
“Can we get ice cream?” Koemi gives him doe eyes, and Toji purses his lips together. He adores when she gives him those cute little eyes, it almost makes him want another kid. Almost. 
“Go ahead. Help yourself.” Toji says, and they run out of their chairs and to the kitchen. He goes back to his chair, and picks up his utensils to continue eating. His fork slips out of his hands and falls to the floor. He reaches down for it, and that’s when his eyes fall on the mess that’s under the table. Toji sits up and he takes a deep breath to contain his anger. They think he’s an idiot. In the end he yells,
“Koemi, Kisho! Come here you little rascals! You’re eating the food from the floor!”
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aajjks · 1 month
Text
Silent Cries (m)
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synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way
Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.
warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.
note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY! 
Header credit: @callingholly ❤️
***NOT EDITED***
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You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.
The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.
You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.
But why Fate is never really on your side?
Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.
You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?
now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.
The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.
You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.
If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.
And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.
You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.
Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.
And even though you have made your decision,
Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.
But- it’s almost time.
He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.
You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.
As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.
You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..
You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.
This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.
Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.
Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.
You inhale a deep breath.
Time to do this.
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“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.
He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.
You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.
“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.
You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.
“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.
What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.
“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.
“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.
So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.
“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.
“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.
If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.
You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.
You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.
His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.
Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.
“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.
“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.
“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.
“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.
“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”
“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response. 
But all you get is silence.
When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?
Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.
His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.
It was about time he suffered.
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“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.
“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.
You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.
Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.
But meanwhile…
He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.
Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.
Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.
Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.
Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.
He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.
Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.
He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.
A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?
“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.
You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?
“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.
“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.
Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.
It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.
As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.
“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.
“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.
“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?
“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.
“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”
Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?
You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.
He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.
There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.
Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.
He will fix that.
A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.
“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.
You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.
“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”
Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.
He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.
“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.
There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.
No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.
You will have to decide the baby’s fate.
It all depends on you now.
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fairlyang · 2 months
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more husband!miguel x wife!reader headcanons! 🕷️
taglist: @safixiovi | part one
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miguel was an attentive listener so anytime he’d take you out shopping and you had an eye on something like a lipstick or dress, he would just make a mental note and come back for it the following weekend
but sometimes he’s go overboard and end up buying more things he thinks you’d enjoy
or even try to pair a cute dress with a lipstick and new heels/flats
would absolutely peel all your oranges or cuties, would even cut up your fruits if you liked them diced
could def see him as the gardening type! he’d take care of his lemon trees and all his veggies while you took care of your pretty flowers and plants in the backyard
going grocery shopping would consist of him putting any snack he’s been craving for the past two months tops
he simply might see some Canelitas or Barritas and how could he not get a box of each?
and when it came to remembering if you had queso fresco, beans, or cilantro his mind would go blank which resulted in you giving him a, “are you serious?”
when it was time to pay he’d playfully push you towards the cart so you didn’t have to pay a dime because that was his job
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best of all he is the the most romantic man imaginable but when valentines comes around his date plans, gifts, and flirtatious manner just skyrockets
and when he finally does the grand reveal of everything he got for you, you’re practically tear eyed, feeling an immense amount of appreciation for him
you just stared at him with a little pout (trying not to cry) while admiring how handsome he looked because he loved dressing up for special occasions
you went up to him holding his face in your hands and attack his face with kisses while he laughed and dropped the big stuffed bear he got you
he wrapped his arms around your waist while you were on your tiptoes, kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips as lovingly as you could
then you pulled away and ran off to the kitchen where you had your own gift for him that was in a pretty glittery red bag
it was a big bag with two little gifts and you were certain it’d be the best present you could possibly give him
returning back to him with the bag in hand and handing it to him before standing in front of him awaiting his reaction
he shook his head in disbelief because he never wants you spending money on him which is quite ironic
but he placed the bag on the coffee table and grabbed the gift paper, throwing it on the floor as your heart pounded in pure excitement
his hand reached down and grabbed the first item, bringing it back up with an instant gasp and tears already filling his eyes
the white baby booties were so tiny in his big hand but it only made the reality hit harder
he was going to be a dad
with a shaky hand he grabbed the final thing in the bag which was a positive pregnancy test in a ziploc baggie
without a word being said he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you gently with tears streaming down his cheeks
you hugged him back and finally your tears fell as well from having to hold this surprise for a little while now
(it was hard because you tell him literally everything)
he was about to speak when a sob instead came out making him laugh because he wasn’t expecting it
you sniffled and grinned so wide your cheeks began to hurt as he pulled away from you just to be able to look at you
his eyes were red and a single tear fell from his eye as he whispered, “I love you so much.”
“our family is growing.” you whispered back making more tears fall from both your faces
he kissed you softly before embracing you once again and making sure to be extra cautious for the little one in your tummy
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chronicbeans · 3 months
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Romantic Lucifer x Cutely Flirty Reader
We're not using "Hey babe" here. Here, we got that "You're a cutie patootie, pookie". That's the best way I can describe the Reader's vibes on this.
TW: None, unless you hate fluff
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• You both met when he visited the Hazbin Hotel. You actually met him as he was leaving and you were heading back to the hotel with some supplies you were buying. You were more than a little surprised by the carnage that had occurred while you were gone... However, you noticed Lucifer, and decided you might as well say hello.
• He's surprised by how polite you are compared to, say, Alastor. You talk for a bit, before you let him go back to his place. The first thing that you end up telling Charlie, once you talk to her, is pretty simple! "Your dad is adorable-"
• Thus begins your flirtation, whenever he is around. However, you do try to make sure he's not uncomfortable with it, to you keep it very low-key at first. The most you'll do is wave to him, saying "Hey, pookie!" as a greeting. He's probably a bit confused, at first, but shrugs it off.
• A bit confused means very confused, in this case. Especially when he notices Charlie looking embarrassed by it. Sure, he's heard pookie used romantically, but he's also heard it used platonically, so the fact that you're flirting hasn't hit him... yet.
• You both become friends rather quickly, sharing a love of things you find cute, like rubber ducks, Razzle and Dazzle, and Keke. You decide that, since you've become such good friends, it's time to up the ante a bit. You are now more prone to waving him over, saying things like "Hey there, sweetie!" or "Pookie bear, look what I've found!"
• It's at this point, he feels he's getting the hint. You're definitely flirting, in your own way. He likes you back, yes... However, he doesn't want to ruin such a good friendship. That, and he wants to be sure you like him for him, and not his looks. So, he starts waiting for you to show signs that you truly like him outside of flirtation - things that have more of a meaning than that, or cliche love tropes.
• And he gets that sign. One day, you come running up to him, holding what looks to be a rubber duck. "Pookie! Look! I found a duckling!" "Oh, that's such a cute little thing-" "quack" Oh, it's not a rubber duck... It's a real, living, breathing duckling. He's rather impressed by the fact that you found one in Hell, of all places. It's not even a demonic duck, either! It's a normal duckling! You must've went through a lot of work to get it, just for him...
• He takes it from your hands, looks down at it for a moment, before saying "This is our child now." And with that, you're dating. And you have a duckling baby, now. He's named it Charlotte, and it has it's own bedroom.
• He loves your flirting, to be honest, and may start to mimic it. You both call each other pookie all the time. You love to call him random names you come up with, like sugar bear, baby bean, cutie patootie, pookie wookie, and he loves all of them. His face practically burst into flames whenever you call him something like that. He likes to call you his little honeycrisp or apple pie. You two are drowning in fluff and Charlie is watching in pure shock, wondering how she got a duck sister and how you managed to rizz her dad by using cutesy flirting and ducks.
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savingcrxws · 10 months
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EYES ON FIRE | just pretend
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[ next chap ]
synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.
word count. 3.5k
warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried
authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!
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"Richie, you dick."
If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.
But this, this really takes the cake. 
“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.
“What brings you here, sweetheart?”
You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you. 
“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.
You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief. 
You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”
“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”
“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”
A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.
Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him. 
His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.
“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.
"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.
"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.
Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.
The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.
“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.
Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.
You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.
“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later.  Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around. 
A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”
You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?” 
“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips. 
"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."
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"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.
In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.
Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.
"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.
"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"
You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."
Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."
You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.
"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"
You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.
After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."
The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"
"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."
You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.
"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"
"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."
You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.
"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.
"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."
Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.
Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.
She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.
Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.
"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."
"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.
Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.
"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."
"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.
You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.
Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."
Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?
Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.
Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.
"What if I helped you manage the place."
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You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.
Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.
You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.
And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.
Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.
Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.
"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.
"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."
You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.
"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.
"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"
You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.
Broke up with you over fucking text.
And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.
Talk about fate.
"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.
You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."
Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.
"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.
Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.
"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."
"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"
"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.
"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.
"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.
You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.
You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.
Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.
Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.
"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"
Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.
Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.
His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.
Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.
You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.
Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.
Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."
He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.
He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.
Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.
Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.
You're doing this for Sugar.
"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"
Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.
"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.
"Yep."
God, someone shoot me now.
Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."
You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.
"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.
You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.
Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.
Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."
Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.
Let's not talk about it right now.
She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.
"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.
He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.
He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.
He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.
You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.
"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."
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requests to be in the taglist for this fic in the replies below or send me an ask! thank you all for reading!
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
Note
Hello ❤️
Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage
Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.
It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.
It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.
But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.
That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.
He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.
Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "
He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.
When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.
"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.
Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.
He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.
He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.
One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.
He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.
When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.
His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.
Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.
Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.
He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.
Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.
He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.
After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.
He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.
He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.
He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.
His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.
Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?
"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.
Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."
The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.
Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.
Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.
"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."
"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.
"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."
"I won't go back to the stupid system."
"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."
The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"
Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."
It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.
The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.
Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.
Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"
Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."
Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."
Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."
"How good is he?"
"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."
Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."
Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.
But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.
He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.
Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.
He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.
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pinkmirth · 5 months
Text
⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!
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𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!
𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes ><  he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎
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richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage. 
over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over. 
though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you. 
it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away. 
there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you. 
it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year. 
you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural. 
he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change. 
“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.” 
“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it. 
he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order  to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot. 
richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.
though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.
“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots. 
“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket. 
“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 
“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet. 
“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.
“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience. 
“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open. 
“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?” 
“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum. 
he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear. 
richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have. 
and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.” 
no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him. 
richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual. 
“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around. 
‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside. 
“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more. 
“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.” 
you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”  
“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips. 
“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it. 
“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music. 
he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.  
richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay. 
you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you: 
“where do you want me?” 
without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards. 
but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even. 
though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it— 
“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before. 
“what?” 
“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing. 
“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity. 
your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”
you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white. 
“shit . . . you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, rich. i want this.” 
you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies. 
“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out. 
“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.” 
“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks. 
“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.” 
you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’ 
“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead. 
“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.” 
just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement. 
patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count. 
richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough. 
there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.  
the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory? 
a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree. 
god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own. 
“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ” 
“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want. 
“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right. 
“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?” 
he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end. 
“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips. 
it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed? 
“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . . 
and he does.
“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you. 
“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim. 
he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.
“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”
you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.
“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous face eyes, “i liked it.”
“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”
you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt. 
and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 
“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.  
“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest. 
he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar. 
richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes. 
there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone. 
‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you. 
a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise. 
you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position. 
richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’  
he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?” 
“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a: 
“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.
“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?” 
he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.
“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”
he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent. 
richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch. 
his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished. 
“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”
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tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎
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©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ
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tarjapearce · 7 months
Note
Can we get a little story or something of how would Miguel take care of pregnant mama? Like I KNOW he would do the most and go the extra mile. But can we get it in your words?
Pregnancy Cares With Miguel ~ ✨
Warning: Pure fluff and a mild squeeze of nsfw.
Let's meet this weekend. MJ and I found this new place. And the hamburgers? God. 🤌🏻🤌🏻. They have these amazing artisanal beer.
You pouted at the screen. You wanted to go for a burger, but for some reason, you retched at the smell of beef. It was a big no for you. Plus you couldn't drink, for obvious reasons.
I need an outing so badly. Need a drink, work is getting so stressful. This weekend or the next one?
Jessica replied as MJ sent a ':) ' emoji on the group chat.
Can't go :(
What? Why tf no? You've been telling me you need a break. 😐
🤰
Miguel had sent the emoji and you rolled your eyes
I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL THEM MIGUEL!!!
Wait... Fr?! 😱
OMG ❤️
MJ texted as the rest appeared as typing.
OMG Imma be an auntie!!?? 😳
Boy or Girl?
We don't know yet
You don't know 👀
Stop. Playing.
🤭🤭
SPILL OUT THE BEANS 🙄
Peter had sent a nervous gif and you cackled.
You'll find out tomorrow 😊
I swear if you don't tell
😏😏 What's gonna happen?
Guys... Im pretty sure these sort of things got you in the current situation you're in, can you not do this in the chat please?
FR
MJ just sent a 🤭 emoji.
Fine, woosies. It's a girl. ❤️❤️💖
SHUT UP 🥹🥹
MJ sent another gif exploding in hearts
Congrats on both 🎉🎉
Miguel remained quiet. You pouted.
What you didn't know is that when he came home, he'd get you a lovely bouquet of tulips and some pickles. He'd just pulled your grumpy self into a tight loving hug as he kissed your temple repeatedly until your mood vanished.
"A girl? Really? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Cause the doctor just sent me the results! And you ruined the surprise. I wanted to tell them in a different way!"
"Yeah, yeah. It's a girl! You know what that means?"
"That I'm gonna get so fat?"
"No, mensa. And even if you did, I'd still hit that." (Dummy)
"Not funny" Your cheeks flushed softly as he chuckled.
"Means that we can finally paint her room"
Your eyes swelled up in tears upon hearing him speak so softly and lovingly. He was excited. You could tell by the little flush in his ears.
"Shopping day tomorrow?"
"Ps obvio" (Obviously )
You giggled.
.----
Ever since you told Miguel you both were expecting a girl, it was like a switch turned in him.
He'd cuddle you with such care, he'd think you'd break. Wich was annoying to you since you missed sleeping ontop of him.
And when the cravings started? Dios mío.
"M-Miguel" You'd whimper as you wiped your eyes. He'd startle and instantly go in alert mode.
"¿Qué pasó? ¿Tas bien?" (What's wrong? You ok?)
You hiccuped and weeped "We have no pickles."
He'd stare at you, trying to process the correct emotion to feel in this situation.
"You're crying cause we don't... have pickles"
"Don't be mean!"
You'd hit him softly with a pillow and curled back to your bed.
"Ok, ok, Don't cry? I'll go to the... the store. Be right back."
"Can I have Nutella too?"
"Uh, sure."
Drowsy eyes looked at the clock. 2 am. On another time, he'd surely would ignore the senseless petition and talk to go back to sleep. But how could he do that when you were pregnant? He was an ass sometimes, but with a pregnant you? Never.
He went to the store, to his dismay there was only two small pickle jars, and they were inside a lady's basket.
... Puta madre...
Why was everyone suddenly in the crave for pickles?
He didn't have to elaborate much and explained the lady. She just laughed it off and kindly surrendered them to him.
"Cravings? Oh boy. You better buy her the three jar packs. And avoid wearing too strong colognes infront of her! It might get her queasy."
"Thanks" With a polite smile he paid for the pickles and went home.
You were waiting for him, teary eyed and pouty. He opened the jar of pickles for you and stared at you with awe and a mild disgust as you dipped one of the pickles inside the Nutella and scarfed the veggie down with such hunger it made you cry again.
"Its so good."
His shoulders slumped with a sigh and wiped your chin.
"You're such a weirdo."
"Want some?"
"No, thanks. Keep eating"
"But I'll get fat"
"It's normal to gain weight during pregnancy."
"You'd love me if I was chubbier right?"
"Yes. I would. Eat your... thing."
He'd chuckle watch you eat until you were satisfied. three pickles in total with half the bottle of Nutella.
The next day he got you a small pack of pickles and two big bottles of that sweet spread to then rub your feet.
---
As time went on and your belly grew, the doctor appointments never got skipped or missed. He was there making sure everything was in order. His big hand hugging yours in a secure embrace as you got your ultrasounds. Everything was going perfectly.
The most dangerous months had passed and he allowed to breathe a bit more.
He had refused when you told him you wanted to work from home. Even if it was home office.
"No. It can lead you to stress out. And that will stress the baby out. Something can happen and no. Let me handle it."
"Stop being paranoid, I'll be fine! I just... don't like sitting all day or sleeping. I need to do something. And you didn't let me do much in the baby's room either!"
"Mi amor. You need to rest. I know you don't like it. But you need to."
"Could you at least get me an exercise ball?"
"Sure. Just don't-"
"Ay ya, Miguel! Ni que fuera a romperme!" (Stop it. I'm not gonna break!)
you whined
"I worry, mi reina."
"I know, and I appreciate it, but I gotta do something around!"
"Just promise me you'll go easy, ok?"
"Fine."
You kissed his cheek and cuddled him, the heat he provided felt heavenly against your back. You had started to waddle and to your dismay a new nickname was born. You were his Pingüinita. (Little penguin)
On the six month mark, you'd toss and turn on bed, feeling either too hot or cold. One moment you were snuggled against him, for the next to remove your clothes and lay naked next to him.
One particular night you felt suffocating. Summer was rampant and you woke up in tears at the oppressing heat.
He'd wake up no long after and filled in the bathtub with the right kind of water. Sweat and hormones raging on your body. Despite sleepiness clinging to him, he'd help you to the tub and bathe you.
Big and gentle hands massaged your wet scalp to then massage your shoulders and lower back. He splashed your body with water and kissed your temple carefully.
"Feel better? "
"Great, thank you, mi amor."
He'd smile lazily and remained there with you, almost falling asleep again in the bathroom until you were ready to leave to sleep.
- - -
He'd buy you long and cotton nightgowns. They were breathable and made everything a bit more comfortable for you, along some essential vitamins. And a hammock for the porch. He'd find you sleeping often in there.
Whenever you went out with the rest he'd make sure that none ordered meat. You still were sensitive to the smell, despite Peter longing for a burger.
Miguel would bathe with you to help you wash your back. But it was just an excuse to touch you and feel you. He'd be as gentle as he could with you. It turned him on to see you swelling with his child. Even brought out things he didn't know was into. Like, a lactation kink. And eat you out despite your protests of not being able to see him.
He was absolutely moonstruck with you. And when the time for you to deliver his baby finally came. He tried to remain strong and collected, despite his hands trembling like an earthquake. He kept an eye on you like a hawk, always looming around you.
He couldn't help but melt when Gabriella's cries echoed loud and healthy on the room.
He kissed you with such pride in his eyes that you'd think he was about to cry.
He knew his life with you had just started, and he was glad he had chosen you. Happy and grateful even. You just made him a dad of a wonderful little girl that instantly quieted down when he held her in his arms. One of the nurses snapped a picture of him holding and cooing Gabi as you got a well deserved nap.
Despite him not being a texter, he sent the picture of Gabi to the group chat.
OMG! Congratulations! she's so beautiful! 😊
I wanna cry so badly right now. She's gorgeous 🎉🎉
I'm an uncle now. :') So proud of you, Miguel.
Thanks
When can we see her?
Lemme ask Pingüinita and I'll let you know.
🐧?
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goldenhypen · 11 months
Text
; ⎯ imy .
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synopsis. jungwon misses you. lucky for him, you’re here for a little surprise.
pairing. jungwon x reader ⋅ genres. fluff ⋅ wc. 0.6k ⋅ warnings. lots of kissing at the end-
prompts 3. traveling long distances just to see them ; 49. giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event
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“i miss you,” jungwon sadly voiced through the phone.
you had gone on a small trip with your friends for a few days, and the absence of your presence was taking a bigger toll on jungwon than he had expected. but he did his best to convince himself that he only had two more days to survive without you, which would pass in no time, and before he would know it, you’d be back in his arms.
literally, before he would know it, because little did he know, you were planning on coming back a day early to surprise him.
so with a final goodbye for the night and a quick exchange of ‘i love you’s, you hung up the phone, and got into bed excitedly anticipating the next day when you’d get to see him again, because even though you didn’t show it as much as he did, you missed him more than you could possibly imagine.
as you laid in bed, you pictured how he would react when he’d see you for the first time in a week, the smile that would light up his face at the sight of you, the pure joy that would radiate from him… you couldn’t wait.
eventually, you opened your eyes, and it was already the next morning. you were surprised you were even able to fall asleep last night, considering all of the overwhelming exhilarating feelings inside of you. but you got up quickly, ready to start the day and to see your boyfriend again as soon as possible.
and many hours and pit stops later, there you were, standing in front of jungwon’s door.
you took a deep breath in, and let it out with a smile on your face. you knocked.
you could imagine the confused look washing over jungwon’s features, likely wondering who would be here at this hour, but before you could think about what would come next, the sound of the door unlocking snapped you back to reality.
the door swung open, and there stood your boyfriend, rubbing his eyes awake from what you assumed was a nap.
you stood there waiting for him to actually glance at the person outside his door, and when he finally looked up, his eyes widened to the size of golf balls.
“what!” he exclaimed as he brought you in for the tightest, warmest hug, it literally took your breath away. “what are you doing here?! wait what time is it—what day is it? did i miss picking you up from the airport?!”
with panic filling his voice, you pulled away, “first of all, hi, it’s nice to see you too. and second of all, don’t worry, it’s 6 pm and still friday. i came back early!”
“what, why?!”
“nice surprise?” you asked with a smile as you peered at him.
“of course,” he sighed happily.
you pulled him back into an embrace, but that didn’t last for long as he quickly pulled away. and not even allowing you time to be confused, his hands travelled to the sides of your face before immediately and roughly pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that screamed ‘you were gone for too long.’
melting into his touch, your hands subconsciously wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss as your lips moved in sync and perfectly moulded against each other.
breathless, he pulled away just slightly, eyes on your lips.
“i missed you so much.”
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a/n. dk bout y’all but omg reunion fics make me soft :’>
event masterlist.
taglist (open). @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @beans-and-jeanes @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @liikno @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @4vonly @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @rikislady @kazmura
2K notes · View notes
suashii · 9 months
Text
୨♡୧ TALES OF THE HEART — bllk boys as cliché romance scenes.
featuring. itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, mikage reo.
warnings. fluff. alcohol consumption in reo's.
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ITOSHI RIN + GIVING UP HIS SEAT ON THE BUS FOR YOU
rin recognizes your face when you step through the open doors of the bus. you always get on here and you’re usually able to snag a seat of your own. although, the hunk of metal is a little more crowded than normal today which forces you to stand for the duration of your ride.
you recognize rin, too, and you think that’s why your feet carry you back to where he sits, hand reaching up to the support above his head. he only spares you a quick glance before looking back to his phone but he can feel your proximity. every time the bus stops to let on more passengers, the already limited space between the two of you lessens. your hip is practically pressed against rin’s shoulder when the vehicle makes an abrupt turn, sending the bottom half of your body into him.
“sorry!” you nearly shout as you stumble to steady yourself. you bow your head in apology once you’re back on your feet. when you raise it again to meet rin’s eye, you’re met with the fabric of his hoodie wrapped around his torso. you tip your head up to find blue-green eyes staring down at you. he jerks his head to the now empty seat, his hand gently beginning to guide you to his abandoned spot. “sit.”
you want to insist that he can keep his seat, but you’re sure he’d stand firm in his offer and the last thing you want to do is cause trouble for everyone else by arguing about something so trivial. so, you shimmy past him and lower yourself into the seat. you smile at him before mouthing thank you and he nods once before turning his gaze forward.
when the bus arrives at your destination, you push past the sea of people as politely as possible to keep up with rin’s long strides. he can sense you following, hear your shoes scraping against the concrete as you trail behind him. “thanks for that,” you tell him again as you fall into step beside him. rin hums in response. his silence urges you to continue. “can i buy you a coffee as a thank you? and an apology for bumping into you.”
“you don’t have to do that,” rin speaks, and you think it’s the first time he’s said more than a word to you. even though his reply isn’t the one you were looking for, you smile at the small progression.
“i want to, though,” you explain, hoping that it doesn’t come off as too pushy. “please?”
after stealing a glimpse of your hopeful smile and the sparkle in your eye, he sighs. rin tells himself that what he says next is purely to get you off his back but in reality, there’s a part of him that really does want to go out with you. “fine.”
CHIGIRI HYOMA + REACHING FOR THE SAME CUP WHEN THE BARISTA CALLS YOUR ORDER
after such a long day, the only thing you want to do before getting back to the comfort of your home is treat yourself to your favorite drink. luckily for you, the café on the way back to your apartment has that very drink on its menu. the ring of a bell announces your arrival as you push past the door, the scent of coffee beans and indiscernible conversation greeting you. there’s no line to wait in and you’re able to place your order right away before the barista informs you that she’ll call for your beverage when it’s ready.
you step off to the side so other customers can order, aimlessly scrolling on your phone to waste time while you wait. you perk up when you hear the holler of your refreshment. you hurry to the counter to grab your drink but another hand that isn’t yours also reaches out to do so.
“sorry.” you pull your hand back, turning to face the other person who reached for the cup. the face before you is a familiar one. you haven’t seen him since the two of you were in high school together. “chigiri?”
he looks to you at the call of his name and there’s a flash of recognition in his magenta eyes. your name tastes sweet on his tongue as he speaks it. for a moment, the two of you just smile at each other without any words, frozen by the surprise of seeing the other again. the twitch of his fingers breaks chigiri’s stare, his eyes flitting to where his hand hovers. he almost forgot that there was a mix-up with the drinks. without a second thought, he slides the cup across the surface and closer to you. “here, this is yours.”
the sound of scuffing finally pulls your eyes away from chigiri’s face and to the source of the noise. the drink you thought to be his sits right in front of you on the counter. it’s what you ordered but you feel bad taking it now that you know he was expecting the same thing. you look back at him, ready to insist that he take the drink. “i can wait for the next—”
“don’t worry about it,” he cuts your sentence short to assure you that it’s fine, “i’m pretty sure you were here before me anyway.”
you hesitantly nod, taking the cup into your hands. you were sure that you’d be leaving as soon as you got what you came here for but your feet are anchored to their place on the floor. it’s been years since you’ve seen chigiri, lost contact with your old friend. maybe your unexpected encounter with him today is the universe’s way of bringing the to two of you back together. there’s only one way to find out.
“are you heading anywhere after this?” you ask, clearing your throat to distract him from the nervous waver in your voice.
he shakes his head, “no, i was actually going to hang out here for a bit. why?”
“mind if i join you?”
NAGI SEISHIRO + SHARING HIS UMBRELLA WITH YOU WHEN IT’S RAINY
nagi’s conflicted—on one hand, he could just pretend he didn’t see you and head home. on the other, heavier, hand, he thinks it would be cordial of him to acknowledge you. after all, he has been watching you patiently wait for the rain to pass under the awning of the shopping center across the street for almost ten minutes now. the steady stream doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up any time soon. he clicks his tongue as he pushes away from the table, snatching the umbrella out from the side of his bag before heading outside. the pitter-patter of the rain accompanies his splashing footsteps as he jogs down the crosswalk to reach you.
you turn your head when you hear him approaching and smile when you realize it’s nagi. you offer him a small wave as he comes to stand next to you. he raises his empty hand in greeting before pointing in the direction he’s going. “heading this way?” when you nod, he jerks his head and says, “i’ll walk with you.”
“really?” you ask to be sure. he bobs his head up and down in confirmation. your lips curl into a smile as you join him under the umbrella. “thanks. you’re smart to keep one on you.”
the only reason he carries one in his bag is because he came to find that peeling wet clothes off of his skin was annoying enough to warrant the rain repellant. he thinks that it was even more of a wise purchase now that he’s able to shelter you from the cold precipitation with it.
he doesn’t show it, but the quiet walk puts nagi’s nerves on edge. he’s usually hidden under the canopy alone but with you huddled beside him, he feels notably warmer. he wants to blame it on the added body heat but he knows just being in your presence is enough to make his cheeks and the tips of his ears burn.
maybe walking in the rain isn’t so bad when he’s got someone to do it with—if that someone is you, nagi notes.
the man is two seconds away from walking straight past his apartment when he abruptly stops. his motion causes you to do the same and you look up to him for an explanation. “this is me,” nagi says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to point at the building.
“oh!” you nod in understanding. “well, thank you for sharing your umbrella with me this far.”
“i can walk you the rest of the way,” he proposes. as sweet as his offer is, you kindly wave him off. “that’s okay. my place is only a few blocks away.”
before he knows what he’s doing, nagi holds the handle of the umbrella out to you. “you can take this.” your eyes widen in surprise at his suggestion and you wave your hands to ensure him that you’re really fine. “it’s okay, really.”
nagi ignores your words, passing the umbrella off to you. he flips his hood over his head before telling you, “you can give it back the next time you see me.” he gives you no time to argue before he’s darting away to make it inside his building.
MIKAGE REO + GIVING YOU A PIGGYBACK RIDE WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK
it’s late, much later than reo planned on staying out for by the time you and your group of friends step out of the restaurant you’d had dinner and drinks at but since you stayed, so did he. you’re leaning against him for support when your friends bid you both farewell—they know for a fact that reo is capable of getting you home safely on nights like these when you let loose and have a few more drinks than you’re able to handle. “ready to go home?”
“mhm,” you hum, eyelids drooping as you put some distance between the two of you.
“where do you think you’re going?” there’s humor lingering in his voice with his question. he’s not sure why, but drunk you sports an inflated sense of independence—one that’s far from warranted given your inebriated state. reo stretches his arm out to pull you back towards him. “let me carry you.”
“i can walk,” you tell him, holding out your hand so that he can’t come any closer. the unsteady step you take forward is only evidence that you cannot walk on your own, as you stumble into the brick exterior of a nearby building. reo’s knowing chuckle permeates the air, leads you to narrow your eyes in annoyance at the all-too-familiar sound. before you can attempt to redeem yourself, a head of purple hair is crouched down in front of you. reo turns to face you and reaches a hand over his shoulder to pat his back. “hop on, you lush.”
“am not,” you whine, but despite your denial of his claim, you bend down to wrap your arms around his neck. reo hooks his arms beneath your knees before launching himself up into a standing position. a surprised squeal bubbles up in your throat at the sudden boost in height and you tighten your arms around your companion as a result.
reo effortlessly carries you through the streets thinning of pedestrians to the closest bus stop that’ll get you home. he’s sure that driving you back to your apartment would have been more convenient—and he would have if he didn’t have a few drinks himself—but he’d be lying if he said this didn’t have its perks; carrying you, that is.
he feels closer to you this way—physically of course, but in a deeper, more meaningful way too. there’s a certain level of intimacy in the action, in the way your chin is tucked in between his neck and shoulder, one that he doesn’t experience with you as often as reo would like. so, as sporadic as they are, he cherishes moments like these.
the bench and street lights that indicate the bus stop are only a few feet away now. reo tilts his head to let you know that you’ll be home soon but he’s met with closed eyes and parted lips. you fell asleep.
he breathes out a laugh at the inconvenient turn of events. getting the passcode to enter your building and the key to unlock your unit will be troublesome in this state, reo thinks as the bus slows to a stop in front of him.
looks like you’ll be staying the night at his place.
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thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
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stararch4ngelqueen · 5 months
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Self indulgent but … thanksgiving w a gf who loves the holidays but doesn’t have family or friends to spend them with ?
This is really small and super quick, I hope you enjoy it! I do hope you have a wonderful day! (Also went ahead and incorporated two things I made today just because my mind is too lazy to think of anything else. If you don’t like them, womp womp/jk Pretend Gotham War dosent exist)
Time written - 8:09 p.m
“You sure I’m not invading in on their celebration?” You vocalize your concern for about the fiftieth time after smoothing out your final layer of fluffy, whipped concoction for your dessert dish.
“If anything, Alfred will appreciate one less dessert to make.” Jason responds, casually leaning across the countertop across from you, watching you work your magic on making one of your miracle dishes. While you didn’t necessarily have to bring a dessert, you insisted as a show of good faith.
“It’ll give the old man a reason to sit down for once,” Jason adds, referring to Alfred’s insistence upon waiting by everyone until they got full plates and thoroughly enjoyed a majority of their meals.
You kept asking the same question, just with different rephrasing of words. You were nervous, Jason could see that by the way you smoothed the silicone spatula over the top of your dessert for the tenth time, insisting perfection on something that already tasted heavenly.
Jason would know. He’s always your designated taste tester.
You went above and beyond with everything you did; Making your own whipped cream, using Madagascar vanilla beans, making your own pudding base from scratch.
“Babe.”
“Hm?” You respond with a concentrated stare on your dish.
“Look at me real quick.”
You spare a short glance up at him, putting up a sweet front of a smile. “What? I’m almost done, Jay.”
“I know,” Jason curts. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”
You nod, swallowing before focusing again on the top of your dish. You picked up the recipe from an online blog article about three years ago; an upgrade on a traditional banana pudding using heavy cream and expensive flavoring, the dessert reeking of pure holiday that had to be shared with the rest of the world.
“Are you sure this looks okay?” You ask, feeling like the top of the dessert needed a lot more than wafer cookies and bananas. Nuts? Caramel drizzle?
“It looks great,” Jason insists, approaching your side of the counter, settling his hand along your hip. “Scratch that. It looks delicious, incredible, mouthwatering. All the good words, sweetheart.”
You can’t help but smile, your cheeks warming with his compliments. Raising your whipped cream spoon to his mouth, you tap his bottom lip before giving him a kiss, hearing his muffled chuckle shortly after.
“Decadent,” He adds, licking his bottom lip of any remaining, perfectly sweet cream. “Perfect. Believe me, Dick and Alfred will never see any banana pudding the same way again.”
You could only hope so, giving him another smile. You liked making this dish, bringing it to your work during little dinner parties. The loudest compliment was a dish scraped empty, yet no one ever asked for the recipe. No one wondered who made it, no one really asked.
“You sure it looks perfect?” Again, your doubts can’t help but have you repeat your broken vinyl record. “I want it to be perfect.”
“It is perfect,” Jason gently reassures with firm sentiment, giving your cheek a soft squeeze. You set your mind to something, you keep at it until you’re perfectly satisfied. As stubborn as it makes you, you always try above your best.
This was your first official gathering with the entirety of Jason’s family. It wasn’t your first, as you’ve been over a few times before for pizza and burgers for movie nights, but never with every single Bat related member at a large, ornately decorated table in an extravagant dining room.
Especially, never with Bruce. Not until tonight, where they’d have a little private event to themselves at the manor. A rare occasion where masks and secret identities weren’t needed. Sometimes, criminal behaviors didn’t allow them a break, so this was truly a treat.
Dick could be himself, fussing over preferences of pumpkin and sweet potato to an annoyed Tim. Babs would scoff her amusement while recording them to show off during Christmas, and the rest would gawk or scoff, chatting amongst themselves or listening in on such a boisterous conversation.
This time, the special guest would be you; the girl Red Hood was sweet on long before you knew his name, becoming the sole guardian of every important identity of the Wayne family.
“Trust me. They invited you, it’ll just be us. It was a big vote with no one opposing.”
Those words brought a more comforting, genuine smile to your face, one Jason could tell was more truthful. Holidays were joyfully dreadful to spend alone in an empty home, the promise of a manor full of friendly faces happy to see you, happy to spend time with you and incorporate you into a tradition you desperately craved was a godsend. It felt too good to be true.
The best part of it all was how much Jason understood. He didn’t celebrate these kinds of holidays when he was a child. No foster family, or even his own mother, could spare enough money to provide grand meals and hours of spending time with people you care for.
It took him a long time to get used to it, he wanted that for you as well. You deserved it after all, they all liked you in their own unique way.
“I’m sure a solid nine out of ten attendants will enjoy those sugar cookie martinis,” Jason murmurs while adjusting a few strands of your hair, reminding you of the one underage family member that ‘tolerated’ your presence.
“Do they got a full stock of vanilla vodka?”
“Course they do. Personally know Bruce has a ton of amaretto.”
“‘Personally?’”
“All those bottles for our dates, babe. Grabbed them all from somewhere.”
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spricket-central · 4 months
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when i first met Donut, i wasnt sure he'd survive the night.
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i caught him while he was hiding in the folds of my bedsheets, with my cat Wembley still in pursuit. the poor thing had taken a beating: he was missing his right jumping leg, and his 2nd right walking leg appeared to be completely paralyzed, dragging behind him as he nervously skittered around in his temporary enclosure.
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luckily, his injuries were purely external, and he pulled through brilliantly!
i moved him into a large enclosure with Baguette, a solitary adult female i had rescued only a week prior. she was a tad stand-offish with him at first, but the two quickly became friendly, spending most of their time hanging out together!
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his paralyzed leg was eventually discarded, possibly by him gnawing it off himself. he moved about rather clumsily, only having one leg on his right side to work with his undamaged left limbs, but he seemed to have no problem getting around regardless. he loved to climb around the enclosure, and could still haul ass when he felt surprised or threatened, ahaha.
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Donut was such a character. i have no idea how he managed to fit so much energy (or cucumber) into that funny little bean-shaped body. im so glad that i was able to give him a calm, easy life after his brush with death. i just wanted him to be comfortable, but he didnt just survive: he thrived.
Donut, i love you dearly, and I'll miss you and your antics so much. i promise I'll take good care of your girlfriend. im even thinking of incubating some of her eggs, so who knows, you may even end up a father!
I'll think of you tomorrow when im cutting up everybodys cucumber 💚
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Donut
10/17/23 (caught) - 1/8/24
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