#this didnt fully turn out the way i wanted it to but its close enough i think. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannieehaee · 4 months

Note

hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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technicallyvivi · 15 days

Text

NSFW WARNING!

yunho letting off stress after a long, hard day at work.

after a long day of work yunho finally gets home, he opens the door and throws his bag somewhere in the living room, with a bang. it’s too dark to see and he could care less as he is way to exhausted to pay any mind to what he’s doing. he walks into your shared room and takes his shirt off noticing you’re asleep. his pants are next to be thrown somewhere across the room. y/n’s snores are soft and yunho giggles to himself shutting up in an attempt to not wake you up, as he climbs into the bed that only makes said attempt fail by squeaking. you yawn and turn over seeing his face close to yours, you kiss his cheek. “you’re home.” you yawn “i had been waiting.” yunho chuckles softly getting into a comfortable position “poor baby, i didnt mean to make you wait long. i got held up.” you smile “that’s okay. you’re here now.” you kiss his neck softly and yunho feels himself start to get hard. “fuck y/n i need to let off some steam. work was hard” you nod and as if he was gonna do it anyways he starts taking your panties off under the covers. “so wet.” yunho says playing between your folds. you throw the covers off the bed to get a good look at his hands. he spends a while teasing you, just to hear your soft moans and whiny “please.”’s. then he speaks up “sorry baby, let me give you what you want. tell me, how many fingers?” your voice is shaky but you manage to let out a couple words and form a sentence “mm one. more hurts.” yunho nods and slowly pushes one digit in putting his head near your ear and whispering “you’re so tight hm?” you shiver as he starts moving slowly, never breaking eye contact with you and when you try to close your eyes, he doesnt let it happen. “no i want you to see me.” the dominance in his voice makes you shift on the bed leading his finger to hit your sweet spot “f-fuck yunho.” you moan “i need to feel more let me add another baby” he expects a yes but you shake your head “hurts” yunho smiles and kisses under your ear softly, nibbling and sucking “ill make sure it feels good” you are so far gone and in your sub space you have to agree. you nod. yunho take a second finger and pushes the tip into your tight hole, you moan gripping onto his arm. “ah-fuck i cant, god!” he shushes you and whispers “come on baby i know you can take it all, you’re strong. if you can take my big dick you can take a couple fingers.” you close your eyes and he pushes it in slowly bit by bit, cooing sweet nothings into your ear. once its fully inside you, you feel so full. “see? what a good girl, you’re so good for me arent you? arent you?” he raises his voice when you moan in response “words baby.” you nod quickly “y- yes fuck!” he speeds his fingers up and hits your spot straight on repeatedly, your back arches and you scratch his back leaving streaks of red. his grunts as he continues dont make it any better for you as you feel your orgasm approaching, you close your thighs around his hand which he pushes back open with force, groaning. “take it all princess.” you let out a shriek and squirt all over his fingers. “sh-shit.” you shiver. yunho laughs, pulling his fingers out carefully and laying next to you. he turns your chin to look at him “open you eyes.” you listen and watch as he takes his fingers coated in your arousal to his mouth and licks them off, then bringing them to your mouth so you can lick them fully clean. “look how good you taste.” he smiles kissing your forehead. “did i do good enough.” you ask knowing he had a bad day at work. “amazing. come here, lets sleep.” he opens his arms up and cuddles you, caressing your hair and humming a sweet lullaby until you fall asleep.

#yunho smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez fluff #jeong yunho #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #yunho x reader

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dilfhos · 7 months

Text

TRAINRIDE

#!WHO; DABI x fem!READER

A! i hope u ignore this cus its stupid but I think dabi/touya being a total scum to huge endeavor fan reader should be a thing

+ (i added my twist to it; at the time this was sent, i was on my dc shit heavy and id already started it)

#!CW: deadoves!n0nc0n, dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, implied exhibitionism, gaslighting, touya arc if you squint real close! dabi has dick piercings bc i said so

tagging: @mostlyheinous @scariusaquarius @dabislittlemouse @nyx--knacks @the-grimm-writer @ectologia

Dabi hated taking public transportation, especially now.

It subjected him to having to conceal his identity for one, blending into the fleeting crowds with dark, long clothing. It didn’t bother him as much had it been any other time, one where he wasn’t on constant guard or easily irritated by familiar phrases and his face.

Dabi only gave a quick glance to the glass behind him, eyeing the way his big hood hung low on his head, hand deep into his trench pocket as the other supported his balance. He drew his hood lower at the glance from a man on his left.

The train eased to a stop and the doors slid open as the crowd swarmed to bring in and send out more people. When the doors closed and the train began to move again, he found himself being thrown forward. A small yelp came from the woman in front of him, turned partially.

He was about to mumble something before his eyes made contact with what she was wearing.

Seeing that you were brazenly adorned in merchandise of the number one hero, he scrunched his nose up at the sight of your complimentary accessories before finally settling on your face. Preoccupied with your phone to notice his oggling, you shifted, body moving with the force of the train as it started moving.

Dabi didnt mean to look, but the subtle quake of your chest piqued his vision and he wished he wasn’t met with those same fucking eyes. How cringe you looked with the familiar navy phone-case you had on the back of your phone to match.

In fact, if Dabi wanted to, he’d stand there and count every one of Endeavor’s paraphernalia and the number could be well over three. You really walk around like that? Parading your favorite hero on your body like a fangirl poster.

He chuckled darkly before rolling his eyes. Yeah, you probably had one or two of them in your room that you fuck yourself to at night to boot.

The train was only a little crowded but not enough to fully obscure your body from his view. You were dressed in jeans, the denim pairing with a snug t-shirt that sculpted your chest perfectly under his gaze. On the back he could see the familiar bright flames. They were disgustingly familiar, completing the stoic features of the hero on the front.

“Endeavor, huh?” You finally glanced up, a bit surprised to find barely anyone on board at this point. A few men sat adjacent, some sleep, others occupied on their own devices and papers or simply dead in gaze as they awaited their respective stops.

Then him, of course.

Turning fully around you face the source of the comment and your heart began to hammer.

Under a subtle glance or two, he didn’t look too out of the ordinary. Dark pants, shoes and a coat on his back, he could’ve as easily passed for some unremarkable human being cold and exhausted from days events. However, under the certain proximity, you had a clear view of his face, unmistakably his metal-littered, scarred face and the dangerously piercing gaze to match.

You parted your lips but he held up a finger, silencing you before you could squeak a sound. He glanced around toward the few other occupants in the car, noting them to be of no significance until his eyes returned back to yours, the silent threat of impending danger weighing heavily in the air around you.

“Are you-are you going to kill me?” You finally said, voice sickeningly timid. Wide eyes peered up at him, height clearing yours as he slowly backed you towards the side of the car.

“He your favorite hero?” Dabi ignored your question, eyes flickering to your chest before his hand followed. You squeaked in surprise as he boldly placed his hand against your breast.

Jerking away, you prepare to to defend yourself when he gripped your wrist.

“To answer the question, I’m not gonna kill you. ‘M just gonna hurt you real bad though,” You’re spun before another word is uttered, the rattling of metal against wheels loud enough to drown your protests.

“Please don’t do this,” His hands were exploring your body, running up your thighs and cruelly pinching at the skin on your sides before settling on the hem of your jeans.

“Please don’t,” You whimpered shakily, meeting the villain’s eyes in the glass.

“I just feel like ya personally insulting me y’know?” He grunted over the sound of his belt clinking. His hand was back on your side now, nails digging into the meat of the exposed skin until drawing a wince.

Dabi shuffled forward until your hands were pressed against the wall of the train, steadying yourself. His other made quick work of yanking down your jeans until they rested around your thighs, panties on display before his hungry gaze.

“D-don’t. I’ll scream.” By now, you’d been reduced to a whimpering, teary-eyed mess, your frantic gaze shifting through the other riders for a witness to what was going on.

But they were all too preoccupied to care.

“Yeah, for who?” The passengers that did notice were the wrong ones.

You met the greedy eyes of the man closest to you and the way his own dropped down to your connected bodies. Dabi was quick to notice that and chuckled before leaning down toward your ear.

“Still your idol, doll? This is his society, you know? The one on your ridiculously, ugly top,” He snickered, his fingers hooking into the side of your panties.

Before you could cry out, his scarred hand clamped over your mouth at the same time as his cock breached your cunt. You tensed, nothing escaping you but a muffled gasp as he shoved himself past your tight ring of resistance. Your eyes were wide, peering back at you in the glass, reflecting off of the pain and horror present.

“Mm, so tight.” He licked the shell of your ear and you release a shuddering sob. He began a snappy, brutal pace, the thick cock dragging heavily through your dry walls. Every time he pulled away, you felt every vein, every metallic orb scraping against gummy insides.

He slammed back into you at the same time the train screeched over rusted tracks, grunting with every stroke, his thin hip bones snapping against your ass.

His grip was bruising as he held onto your waist, his wrist only flicking to push and pull you back onto his dick. His other hand remained pressed against your mouth to muffle your cries and moans. You reached behind to at least try and push him away, alleviate the grating pain he was causing but your attempts were laughable as he only slapped away your efforts.

Dabi sped up, stumbling forward until your front was pressed against the metal interior, body squished between hot and cool. The hand over your mouth dropped to hang loosely around your neck, tilting your head back to meet his. The hood over his head only served to make him all the more menacing with the shadow that casted over his grotesque features.

“What do you think Mr. Endeavor would say if he saw his biggest fan being defiled like this? Probably be disgusted huh? I mean, allowing a complete stranger to fuck you on public transportation.” Your eyes closed as you imagined the twisted look of repulsion on your favorite hero and the image brought you to more tears.

You hiccupped as he trailed fingers down in between your legs to brush against your clit, missing the way his grin widened at the way you suddenly tense up. You released a pained moan at the way your pussy clamped down on him.

“So sensitive,” He chuckled at the way you try and bite down your orgasm. He could feel you start to relax, your cunt pulsating around him as your juices started to slick him up.

Overhead, the sound of the loudspeaker crackling at the next stop had Dabi’s eyes glancing up, as if now aware of the time. Releasing you, his hand fell to your other hip where his blunt nails dug as his pace quickened.

“Stop’s coming up,” He mumbled. You didn’t really hear him though. You were busy trying not to give in to the way his cock was filling you up, the pain parting into pleasure, your juices beginning to fall and squish around his dick.

Your head hung low; you couldn’t even look at your reflection in the glass anymore, at the way your brows furrowed over glossy, blown eyes. The way your wet lips part to release silent moans. You were despicable. You couldn’t call yourself a fan of the great Endeavor anymore, not after this.

Not after him.

Dabi’s feet planted firmly, his hips suddenly stuttering to a halt. He was quick to conceal your squeal with his hand again as his dick twitched in your cunt. Your teary eyes widened as you felt warmth flooding you, too horrified to even move save for your trembles.

He was still going, slowly rutting his nut back into you with shallow strokes. It was only until you heard a chime overhead that he pulled away with a content sigh.

Dabi eyed the way his cum was beginning to seep down your thighs, dripping into your bunched up jeans and an idea formed in his head, one that had him grinning sadistically.

A moment later your trembling legs finally gave way allowing you to sink onto the floor.

He began to fix himself, adjusting the hood on his head. He threw a cocky salute to the man eyeballing him earlier and a final disgusted look down at those eyes on your shirt. He then shook his head with a forming smile, walking away and leaving you on the floor of the cold train. The whooshing of the doors were deafening in your ears as you looked up to greedy eyes.

Back at the hero agency, Endeavor’s phone lit up and a notification from an unknown number had his brows furrowed in confusion at the link. His scowl only deepened after further investigation.

DILFOS. do not plagiarize my content—current or archival.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi fanfic #dabi smut #bnha x reader #reader x dabi #dabi fic #bnha smut #[ deadoves— ☆]#[ output—☆ ]#old request #awe i hope this anon somehow finds this lol #ft a corny ass joker line LEAVE ME ALONE

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simplygyuu · 1 year

Text

Doing You a Favor

synopsis : beomgyu wants to do you a favor by doing your hair after you take a shower <3

genre : fluff, romance

pairings : beomgyu x gender neutral!reader

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When you padded out of the steamy bathroom with your oversized t-shirt and shorts on the last thing you expected to see was your boyfriend sitting at your vanity with a cute smile, holding your hair dryer and brush. Your hair was still soaking wet and honestly you had planned on just sleeping with it wet but it seems Beomgyu has other plans.

“Come, come!” Beomgyu beckoned you over, standing up with a bounce so you could take a seat in the chair and he could stand behind you.

“Do you even know what youre doing?” You teased as you complied with his instructions and sat down. You watched him smooth out your hair through the mirror before he reached over your shoulder to pick up the brush.

“Nope,” He retorted, popping the ‘p’ sound before continuing, “but i've used a hair dryer before and i've seen you do your hair so many times I may as well be an expert.”

You couldnt help but fondly chuckle while nodding. “Alright, Beom whatever you say.”

He softly smacked the top of your head with the tip of his fingers, barely feeling like anything. A happy smile was on his pretty features, his face practically lit up as he began brushing your hair. He loved doing things for you and would often beg to help pick out an outfit or help you put on jewelry, even wanting to help with silly things like tying your shoes.

His touch was gentle as he used one hand to press down a bit on your hair as he worked the knots out. He didnt want to accidentally hurt you. The happy concentration on his face made you smile as you fondly watched him through the mirror. You loved him so much. The way his brown hair was all ruffled and displaced while he was dressed in such simple, homey clothes –sweatpants and a somewhat big sweatshirt– and the natural flush to his cheeks made you ever the more smiley as you watched.

You tuned out most of everything else as you watched his concentrated face, only zoning back into the loud sound of the hair dryer starting up. Playfully, Beomgyu pulled the neck of your shirt back a bit just to blow air down your back with a giggle.

“Hey, stop that!” You yelped, not expecting the feeling. It wasn't uncomfortable, just sudden as you laughed and leaned forward to get away from his loud laughter. Cutely he lifted his hands up in a mock surrender which led you to lean back in the chair again. Once you were settled his laughter delved into soft huffs of air and a small smile as he began blow drying your hair.

As his fingers ran through your hair, gently scratching a bit every once and a while, you couldnt help but let your eyes fall closed and you let yourself lean further back. “Its not too hot, is it?” He asked just loud enough to be heard over the blow dryer which resulted in a shake of your head.

Surprisingly, he did seem to know what he was doing. It didnt take long for your hair to be fully dry, not even a bit damp thanks to how thorough he was, and honestly it looked a bit better than normal.

“Ta-da!” Beomgyu sang once he unplugged the hair dryer, watching for your expression with expectant eyes. You leaned a bit closer to the mirror, turning your head from side to side with a content smile.

“Wow… it actually looks good. I didnt expect that.”

“Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!”

Two pairs of laughter filled the room soon after, solidifying the warm feeling in your chest.

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notes : i wanted to write a little something outside of nouvelle to hopefully help me with my motivation lolol so here's cute bfie gyu!!

reblogs and replies are really really appreciated!

permanent taglist : @squiishymeow @beomnioa @jwnghyuns @ddeonudepressions @mywonie @bluebearybeom @wccycc @soobin-chois @myknifeyourlife @itzxvaxella

#beomgyu #tommorow x together #txt #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #kpop #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu fic #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt fic

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4pfsukuna · 8 days

Note

Could I request a todo x fem! reader, where they go on a date to see a movie, but reader decides its a good time to surprise our big guy with some head? 😈

Love your writing BTW you're amazing!!!💕💕

Movie Date

Omg thank you bby🥹🫶🏾 and YES i absolutely can plus i threw in a lil bonus at the end cause i feel like i suck at writing scenes of giving head and 1k words simply wasnt enough.

warning: slight exhibitionism. And by slight i mean these mfs have no decorum. Sloppy toppy and Todo is a warning of his own.

“My beautiful brown goddess, my sensational tiger lily, my vivacious smelling princess—“ your boyfriend of 2 years purrs in your ear wrapping his large toned arms around you gently, veins bulging through the thick fabric of his black turtleneck silver locket with a picture of you inside dangling down.

To an outsider it would look like a monster of a man squeezing you to death but Todo was so soft and gentle with you he would dare lay a finger on you… in a way you didnt want.

“Were not skipping the movie to have sex” you push him off of you but like a charged magnet he comes right back clinging to you, this time his hands wandering your toned yet curvy body. The thin, nearly transparent, fabric of the bodysuit you were wearing with mesh on the sides that dipped deliciously between your breast and down your spine revealing your spine tattoo of a snake.

Your french tip toes peeking out from the strappy rhinestone heels you had on, an anklet with the letter T on it for him.

You looked like a full course meal to him and who hasnt heard of dinner and a movie!

“But—“ he pouts as you smack his hands away from your ass that he kept grabbing handfuls of just to watch the jiggle of it along with you thigh meat. He loved your thighs and loved when you came from him giving you head your thighs squeezing him in so tightly. It was in his top 3 places for his head to be and yes he had a list.

“No buts! You promised me a night out and i would love to continue on our night with the most handsome man in all of japan” you flirt standing on your toes to peck his jaw. He wants to keep pouting but the man is absolutely tender for you, he truly cant get enough of the way you shower him with love and affection.

“Plus if you buy me the collectible cup and pop corn bucket ill make sure—“ you begin as you swipe on another coat of lip gloss but his scoff cuts you off.

“Sweetheart ive already gotten the cups, bucket, tshirts and matching beanies” he pecks your forehead escorting the two of you to the car knowing the sooner you left the sooner you could come back and he could be giving you endless rounds! Your man was a pleaser how could he not be the sound of your moans nothing less than a symphony to him.

You had a plan though cause as down bad as Todo was for you, you were for Todo! You make sure to leave lots of lingering touches as he drives— running a manicured hand up his biceps, tracing your thumb over his jaw as you cup his chin while telling him how handsome he is and even resting your hand on his thick thighs dangerously close to where you knew all 8 girthy inches rested.

Its the way he swerves slightly when your pinky brushes the tip and he releases a shudder sending you a warning look.

“My love ill hit the meanest u-turn and take us home right now” to which you relax at a tiny bit, there was no threat in his voice just raw lust.

Its not long before youre back to teasing again.

“You just have the prettiest eyes and lips” you breathe kissing the corner of his lips using his length as balance his hips raising slightly into your palm.

He was annoyed when you noticed he was circling the block to avoid getting to the theater.

Giggling as he grumbles all the way to the seats you tuck your blunt cut behind your ears making sure it’s fully out of the way for the devious antics you had planned. There were a few people in the movie showing, though none near you all at the front so when the lights finally go down so does your hand to his pants.

“I need you to stay quiet for me papa” you whisper into his ear placing a kiss on it before trailing them down his neck smirking when he exposes it more.

Rubbing his chub through the soft material of his pants he lets out a soft pant his eyes meeting yours when he pulls your jaw to his before giving you an open mouth kiss tongues clashing.

You were his little minx, a for sure tease so when you Slowly start pulling out his length from his tight boxers he gasps into your mouth.

“Love i don't— ngh” he lets out a strangled sound when you flick your tongue over the tip eyes locked into his. You shush him tapping his length against your lips a popping sound soft enough making a bead of precum form.

Eagerly you lick the vein on the underside of his dick up to his tip earning a hiss as you push your lips down and around him. The sound of suspenseful music begins to play and you pull off with a pop swirling your tongue around once more taking him all the way to the back of your throat and he grunts out your name.

Looking up from his lap you watch his rough grip on the arm rest before winking at him repeating the motion of taking him all the way to the back of your throat three more times slowing down when the music does.

“Y-you look so precious baby..Nghh..taking.. FUCK.. taking my cock down your throat like that” he stutters turning into complete putty for you

Pulling off to let spit drop from your mouth onto his dick you use both hands to create a twisting motion speeding up when the intensity of the music increases listening to the soft grunt of your boyfriend feeling his dick twitch in your mouth. You feel his hips rise and forcefully push them back down knowing how he LOVES it when you push, pull and bend him to your will.

The music completely stops and you pull your mouth off giving him a minute to catch his breath Todo instantly grabs you by your neck pulling you up to him tasting himself on your lips moaning softly in your mouth.

“I cannot wait to have your anklet dangling over my shoulder as i fill you up and fuck you so dumb tonight” he promises his hand grazing your nipples through the thin fabric.

You grin, edging him for the next 45 minutes until you begin feeling the first signs of lockjaw and take his balls in your mouth sucking on them blissed out from how heavy they feel against your tongue swirling your tongue all around.

“Baby… fuck… your mouth feels—” he moans and nearly whimpers as his hand finds the back of your neck. You could feel the familiar twitch in his dick and you knew he was close its only a matter of time until you could taste his perfect release but seeing him unravel under you like this was just to perfect!

Your forced to exhale through your nose as his grip on your head holds you there giving your jaw and his will power a break.

His moans and whimpers— yes whimpers between you edging him he was starting to become overstimulated and the fact that you hadnt let him touch you smacking his hand away at every instance he wad loosing all restraint.

So When you hear the music picking up knowing it was the height of the movie you know its time.

Placing your mouth back on his length one hand propping his length up the other massagin his heavy balls picking up spead with the intensity and depth of the music once more the bass rumbling through his chest until its at its peak your tongue swirls out as you take him deep down your throat. Unleashing your finishing move— moaning so the vibrations of your throat send motion waves down his length squeezing tightly at the base and his balls he falls apart with a loud fuck his load shooting in heavy spurts and everyone in the theatre screams at that same time he does at the jump scare in the movie.

He pulls you in his lap holding you close to his chest as he catches his breath chest heaving and legs twitching, hes still hard under you but the bright flash of a light makes its way to where the two of you are sitting.

“The fuck is your problem” Todo hisses at the dark haired teenager whos flashing his flashlight on the two of you.

“Im s-sorry sir! There was a complaint of wei-strange noises” they rush out immidiately taking the light of the two of yours faces and down to the ground.

“Yeah its a horror movie and the music was shaking my girl to the core” he semi-lies through his teeth and the kid apologizes running down the steps only to trip into somebody getting up sending a bucket of popcorn flying into the air fits of laughing bursting from the two of you.

“Mmmm how about we go home and make love on the balcony” Todo kisses your temple fixing your hair to the best of his ability and wiping off the remains of your lip gloss that smeared to your cheek.

Making love on the 16th floor balcony sounded amazing and you open your mouth to agree but all that comes out is a wrasp you instantly feel the soreness of your throat.

“Come on ill make you some tea too” he chuckles tucking himself back in his pants full on laughing as you hold up the bucket of popcorn.

“Of course we can bring the popcorn”

Bonus:

Sitting on Todos desk as you visit him bringing him his lunch the hed “forgotten” as he does every thursday Gojo walks in and stops slightly at seeing you.

“Oh Y/n! Nice to see you” he waves brightly with a few folders in his hand. You hold your throat and wave back watching as the white haired man tilts his head in confusion.

You let out 2 fake coughs..

“Im sick”

Bonus bonus:

‘I was going to kill him. I was going to have him on the back of a missing milk carton. If i survived his torture.’ Is your only thought as you sit next to Todo his large arm over the back of your seat

“She’ll have a lemon drop” he dismisses the waitress fidling with the small black switch in his large hands. She nods happily walking off and you clench your legs as the buzzing in between continues.

He smiles down at you faux innocence covering his eyes but the smile telling you he was fully aware.

“Do you know what you want to eat?” He ask opening the menu infront of me before turning to his own.

“Fuck you” you bite out trying to hold back a moan which you instantly regret. The vibration increases to such an intense pace you reach down ready to pull it out the when he subtly takes your hand placing it on his bicep.

“You better not” he threatens as he kisses the top of my head and you couldnt even help how turned on you were, it was rare Todo wasnt a soft Dom so seeing him like this had you dripping to your ankles. It was all his fault. As the waitress walks back with your drinks he grins telling her your order gripping your thigh smiling as he feels the wetness dripping down.

Licking his fingers casually your jaw nearly drops yet you thanks the heavens yall were seated in a secluded area toward the back.

“Todo please—“ you whimper ready to slam him on the table and ride him in this restaurant consequences be damned! clutching his arm you can see hes having such a hard time telling you no especially from the way his pants is forming a tent.

“Ah ah remember when i was begging for you before the movies— how you denied me” he reminds his fingers finding their home between your legs on the nub and pinching earning a tiny squeal.

“That was 3 months ago!”

#toji x black reader #todo x you #todo aoi #aoi todo #todo x black reader #todo x reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk smut

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cherryo · 1 year

Note

i know holloweens over already, but reader dressing up as atomic lass for holloween and donnie absolutely losing it🫣

THE SCREAM I LET OUT WHEN I SAW THIS BIEWUBGUEBW I LOVE LOVE DONNIE AND THE THOUGHT OF HIM LOSING IT OVER A COSTUME LIKE????? YES PLEASE!!!!!!

i am so so sorry that this came out as late as it did,,,, I've been so swamped with work and mental/physical things but!! i worked on this every chance I got <333 also, i really didnt know how to end it, so the ending is a bit off, other than that i hope you like it

also I wanted to make clear that any smut or anything alluding to the turtles being in sexual situations, they are always, always of age!! i don't write minors unless it is pure fluff and nothing sexual.

Pairings: Rise!Donnie X gn! reader pronouns: they/them word count: 700 genre: fluff and suggestive themes Warnings: Explicit content, suggestive themes, swearing, heavy petting n groping, i think thats it?

Staring in the mirror you realized this might not be the best idea in the world, what if you got something on your costume wrong? What if Donnie didnt like the fact that you dressed up as Atomic Lass? At this point you were fiddling with your purple gloves, you made sure they fit but were still true to the flared version of them. Your heels were purple and even though you were comfortable in heels, these were especially pointy and thin heels, which made them hard to stand in. you sighed, trying to calm your nerves about whether or not Donnie will critique you.

Hearing a knock on your bedroom door startled you, turning around in time to see Donnie poking his head through the crack in the door, seeing if it was okay to come in. “you can come in, darling” giggling under your breath when you noticed he had his eyes closed just in case.

He stepped in, turning around to make sure the door was closed and locked, which he did every time he was in your room for some reason. He turned to see you fully, jaw dropping slightly, he stood there silently looking you up and down.

“Um,,” you deflated a bit when he didn't jump at you, maybe it was shock or him trying to understand what you were trying to do. “I dressed up as Atomic Lass,,, because well i know you like her a lot,,,,and all that” looking down, you started fiddling with your gloves, trying not to cry.

Not noticing Donnie had made it to where you were standing, he reached out and lifted your chin up. His face softened at you, he knew you were nervous about the costume.

"I love it, i really do” that made you look at him fully, it made you happy that he liked it.

“Really?” your own insecurity seeping in, “of course i do” he hummed a sound of approval.

“I think i like it a little too much,” he had leaned down to whisper in your ear, making you shiver at the meaning of his words. Looking back at him to see his smug ass look, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and he enjoyed every second of it.

His hands made their way down to your hips, pulling you in by the belt you had made. He pulled you into a hug, smushing his face straight into your shoulder. His breathing was picking up its pace, he moved your hair out of the way allowing your neck to be bare. Donatello started kissing your neck, slowly turning the kisses into nibbles and then into love bites and hickies, he loved the moans and little gasps you let out each time he left another love bite.

One of Donnies hands went to your hip, tapping it to signal for you to jump so he could catch you in his arms, you did just that. His hands gripped your thighs to make sure you didnt fall and had balance, slowly he made his way to your bed, kissing you the whole time. He just couldnt get enough of your kisses, he was addicted to them and fortunately you had an unlimited amount to give him.

He layed you down gently, being as careful as he could he laid down ontop of you. His kisses just kept getting more and more passionate, you could tell that the costume was doing something to him. His hands went down to your hips, groping and grabbing at them.

“I think you should dress up more often,” he breathed out between kisses, “ yea? You like your present?”

He let out a low ‘mhm’ in response, he was loving every second.

“Well, maybe i will dress up like this more often if it gets this type of reaction out of you,” he huffed at that, not wanting to admit you have him tied around your finger.

Kissing you even deeper, smushing you into the bed.

#chasewrites #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie x reader

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dayurno · 4 months

Note

recently reread ur de-aged kevin fic and in the end notes you said you were thinking of doing a sequel w neilandrew being de-aged and just wanted to throw my hat in the ring to say yes pls! you genuinely have such incredible writing and characterization and would LOVE to see your take on it!

wawawa i plan to write it!!!!! i did start a little bit after finishing de-aged kevin and had to scrap it off because i didn't like it, so it might take a little longer. nonetheless i feel like i have no reason not to share it so i'll attach under the cut the scrapped version of kevin with de-aged andreil for your enjoyment :=) if its a little wonky i ask that you bear with me theres a reason why i didnt keep this version

There is a little garden behind Fox Tower where you could fit a dead body without any real effort.

Not that Kevin would know, of course. But he is sure that he has never seen anyone besides himself tend to the ground there — perhaps once in the past there was another athlete who enjoyed gardening, but such a character has not been around for at least a few years. It took Kevin almost an entire week to entirely weed out the square of dirt between Fox Tower’s backdoors and the fence where Palmetto State University property ends and Fox Perimeter starts.

Despite the loneliness of it, the ground is quite fertile; as patches of earth left alone by humankind often are. No one ever comes with Kevin when he gardens — Andrew finding it too soft a hobby and Neil, too pointless —, so there is no worry about someone else intervening with his flowers. Worlds apart from Evermore, Kevin quite enjoys the alone time tending to this garden provides, so he makes a habit out of it.

He’s not sure how well he is doing. His first attempt had been to plant daylilies, because the name had amused him and they were considered beginner plants, offending as the thought is. Daylilies, Kevin’s come to find, are low-maintenance, highly resistant and pest-free — three things Kevin cannot relate to, despite them sharing a surname. Those turned out fine, but one cannot go wrong with daylilies; they’re too easy. The only way Kevin could’ve killed them is if he was an absolute moron.

His second attempt — and the one he is currently keeping a close watch on — were tulips. They’re harder to care for than their predecessors, and take up more of Kevin’s time than he had previously imagined, though he doesn’t fault them for it. He’d gotten seeds from a shop a few blocks down to where Andrew usually buys his cigarettes in Columbia, and hadn’t bothered to ask for more information; Kevin’s first mistake, he realizes.

His tulips have… multiplied. Perhaps too much — hopeless, Kevin sits amidst the rows and rows of golden ladies, dainty-looking but quite surely outnumbering him, and wonders how many more of them could cause a natural imbalance in the area. For how they spread over the garden, Kevin is not sure he wants the answer. Their yellow bulbs seem to mock him.

Deciding this is now above him, Kevin wipes the dirt from his knees and springs up. He breaks the stem of a few tulips that have already bloomed, mindful that they must reserve their energy for a future reblooming, and checks for rotten bulbs before leaving. Surely, with time, his little garden will recover well enough so that it is not fully covered in tulips. Surely he’ll be able to plant something else, then.

If anything, Kevin is at least happy they don’t have thorns. Gathering the handful of flowers he’d cut off, he returns to his dorm, mindlessly wondering to himself if they have a vase wide enough to fit all of these tulips. When their whiny door pushes open under his weight, Kevin announces his arrival by calling out, “Do we still have that big vase from last year?”

No reply. Frowning, Kevin settles his flowers on the kitchen counter and glances over to where Andrew’s wallet and keys sit at their coffee table, even his half-finished pack of cigarettes left untouched. It is highly unlikely for Andrew to leave without at least one of those three items, creature of habit he is. How weird.

Grabbing for his phone, Kevin sees a flash of motion from the corner of his eye, and is just quick enough to sidestep a little body hiding behind the back of their sofa. The idea of something as small as this just hanging around their dorm is so baffling Kevin can hardly compute it, communication between his eyes and his brain coming to a screeching stop as he takes in the sight in front of him.

There’s a child. There’s a — there’s a child.

He is quite small. His hair, a gentle wheat-like thing, curls softly over his forehead, leading down to big, round brown eyes and a thin mouth. The child’s face is very tender, his cheeks flushed from exertion, but he does not meet Kevin’s stare with any such feeling — instead, his eyes widen slightly, and he stumbles back like he’s been hit.

For a moment, Kevin even worries he hasn’t sidestepped as well as he thought and indeed had hit this child on accident. Taking a few steps back himself, Kevin asks, “Who are you?”

It seems like the kind of question the child should ask him, instead of the opposite. The little boy tilts his head back to look at Kevin — and he does have to tilt it very far —, before steeling himself to answer, “I’m—I think I live here now?”

“That…” Kevin hesitates, “can’t be right.” The child’s eyes water slightly. Growing more and more panicked by the minute, Kevin immediately retracts it. “But I’m sure it is, if you’re saying it.”

The tears don’t fall, but they don’t quite recede either; the little boy's face is so fair it starts to look splotchy soon enough, red dusting his nose and cheeks. “Are you my new brother?” He asks, with all the certainty of someone who’s had many new brothers before. A nagging chill runs up Kevin’s spine.

“I don’t believe I am, since I don’t have any siblings,” Kevin limits himself to replying. He crouches down to meet the child’s stare, eyeing his tulips from above his head. Kevin really needs to get that vase soon; it’s not good for them to be out in the open like this. “Can you tell me your name? Why are you here? Where are your parents?”

The little boy eyes him suspiciously. He answers none of Kevin’s questions, but he informs, “There was another little boy too.”

“Right. Well,” Kevin stumbles a bit, unsure of what to say — and what to believe in, even. Children often see things that aren’t there for adults; he does not want to see any manner of spirit today. Or any other day. “Can you go get him for me? Then I can help you figure out what you’re doing here.”

“What else… can I be doing here?” The child asks, frowning lightly. “This is a new home. They—at the last one, they didn’t want me. And I have to be somewhere.”

Recognition shivers through Kevin. “I see,” he replies past the lump in his throat. “I think I might understand. The—the little boy that you mentioned, did he have blue eyes? And, and red hair?”

Andrew crinkles his little nose. “Was orange, not red.”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. “I understand it now.” Kevin’s thighs tremble too much for him to hold his crouch, so he sits back on his heels, kneeling at Andrew’s height. “How old are you? If you don’t mind.”

Andrew blinks at him for a moment too long before showing Kevin his spread palm — it is unbearably small, chubby, and quite pale, too. “I’m five,” he says.

And he is. He is five years old. He is very five years old by the looks of it, which is not the age Andrew Minyard should be, because before Kevin left for his garden, he was pretty sure the Andrew he left behind was twenty-one.

“You’re five. Okay. That makes sense. Of course,” Kevin babbles, having gone half-stupid from shock. That this could be happening to him — that it could be happening to them again, after Kevin had spent a week of last month being six years old and with no recollection of it. What kind of rotten cosmic joke is this? “I see. Okay, well, let me just—” He rubs a hand across his face. “Hello, I’m Kevin. I am a collegiate athlete. That means I play Exy for a university. Have you heard of it?”

“Exy is on the TV all the time,” Andrew counters, but it seems to be all that he knows. He looks a little hesitant before he nods; tight and anxious. “Hi. I’m Andrew Doe.”

Without a surname makes one a John Doe. Kevin’s heart squeezes. “Hello, Andrew,” he greets, trying to work his face into something gentler. “I understand what you mean now. You called it a new home, correct? It’s not like that. I think what happened here is…”

“Do you work for my father?” A small voice cuts Kevin’s sentence short. He whips his head around to meet a boy a good few inches taller than Andrew leaning against the doorway of their bedroom, his hair a light ginger. When Kevin’s eyes meet his, Neil — Nathaniel? — hunches in on himself in self-reproach, placing little hands in front of his head. “Sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

Kevin blinks. “No,” he answers, softening his voice. This is—this is not the time to doubt whether gentleness is achievable or not; this is the time to force it until it breaks, or until it gives. “I don’t work for your father. I’ve never even met him before.”

Neil pales. Perhaps the idea that someone does not know his father seems outlandish when Neil has been raised under his dominion — Kevin is sure it feels that way, for Neil to look so stricken. Often when you are this small and your parents are the overlords of your world, it feels strange to learn that they are not the end-all-be-all of everyone else’s.

Like a little tour guide, Andrew steps forward to explain, “I think you might be here because your mom and dad went away and children have to live somewhere.”

…Of course, being five years old, his understanding of the situation is about as good as Kevin had expected. Andrew’s explanation of the foster system is fairly good, all things considered, but too realistic for a child his age. He should, at least, still believe that they mean to find him a family instead of sending him from home to home because there is nowhere else for him to be.

Neil pales even further. “Is that true?”

“Is true. Is what happened to me.”

“Alright, alright,” Kevin intervenes at last, and two pairs of eyes turn to him; both hesitant in their own way. He coughs into his fist, deciding that honesty is the easiest route. “To be frank with both of you, I’m not sure why you’re here, either. But… thank you, Andrew, for trying to explain it.”

The little Andrew’s face does something unguarded and surprised before he looks away, blushing lightly.

Kevin keeps his eyes trained to his tulips. “I don’t know what happened for you to get here, but you’re welcome to stay until we can figure this out.”

He is eyed with suspicion from both sides. “I,” Neil shakily starts, the beginning of a meltdown creeping into his voice, “I want my mama. Where is she?”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin replies, and finds that he means it, “I don’t know. If I knew, I’d take you to her.”

He would do no such thing, but it is important to say it, anyway.

Springing upwards before Neil can bring out the waterworks, Kevin takes a few steps next to where he’d put aside his tulips and returns with one in each hand. “Here,” he says, kneeling to their height again. “Want a flower? I just got them from the garden.”

Andrew’s hand reaches for it, but does not bridge the distance, hesitant. Neil doesn’t even try to get it. “Flowers are for girls,” he tells Kevin.

“Hm. Do I look like a girl to you?”

“Yes.”

Kevin supposes that was a mistake on his part. It’s always the hair with children. “Well, I’m not,” he argues — argues! — with five-year-old Neil. “It’s very rude to not accept a gift.”

Neil eyes him, squinting quietly. He takes a few steps closer, looking more relaxed now that he’s figured Kevin is not working for his father. Coaxingly, Kevin offers one of the tulips in his direction — the bigger one, standing proud and yellow and delicate. It took a great effort for them to look this healthy. “These are called golden ladies. They’re perennials — that means they grow no matter the season. I plant them myself.”

A little hand curls around the stem of the smallest of Kevin’s tulips, catching it with all the clumsy delicacy of children who have yet to learn a finer touch. Letting Andrew take it, Kevin's mouth twitches. “Don’t worry about thorns, there’s none.”

He doesn’t mention the eco-system smasher Kevin had accidentally become in the process. Hopefully, no one notices the terrifying increase of tulips in Palmetto for the upcoming springs.

Andrew doesn’t answer him, eyes trained to the tulip. The yellow of the inner petals matches the pale of his hair; makes him look more flower than child. Sweet, sweet boy.

Kevin turns back to Neil. “Won’t you take it even if you don’t like them? I don’t have a vase yet. I’m afraid they’ll just rot if you don’t take them.” This is a lie — but it’s a fair one. Children shouldn’t be so restrained.

The idea of imminent destruction seems to convince Neil to walk the distance between himself and Kevin to take the flower in his little hand. He says nothing. Kevin can’t tell if he likes it at all — he’s so put-upon.

A little hand flutters in the general direction of Kevin’s head. “Why is your hair…” Andrew asks.

“What? Long?” The child nods. “What’s wrong about it?”

“It shouldn’t be like this.”

Well, that’s rude. Kevin huffs softly under his breath, absent-mindedly combing his fingers through his hair. “When I was a little over your age, I had a friend — a brother — who liked my hair like this. I think I just grew used to it.”

It’s not the full story, of course. He can’t tell them about Riko, and how much of his preferences Kevin had taken as law out of admiration, at first, then fear, later on. He can’t explain, either, that his hair staying this way is his own way of mourning — a childhood left unfinished, a little boy abused into the insanity of Riko’s final years, brotherhood yet to be tainted by blood and jealousy. Children this young can’t tell Kevin carries all the marks of the grieving.

“Oh,” Andrew replies. He looks like he wants to ask some more, but he doesn’t.

“I can teach you how to braid it later, if you want,” Kevin offers. He has not even a sliver of a clue about what children should do in their free time. In his time, his mother took him all around the world during her trips, which didn’t usually leave Kevin much time for playing; then, after she died, Exy consumed most of his time between little league and Tetsuji’s endurance bootcamp. “It’s a useful skill. You can impress your future wife with it.”

He knows well enough that Andrew is never, ever going to get a wife; still, Kevin knows no other way to frame the importance — or, rather, mask the lack thereof — of this to him.

Andrew nods politely. He, for one, is taking this much better than Neil seems to be — for good reason, Kevin imagines. Already registered in the foster system, Andrew must be used to adapting to new homes, new siblings, new adults with an eccentric knack for gardening and haircare. He’s indulging Kevin. A five-year-old!

“Well,” Kevin clears his throat, suddenly a little embarrassed. “Are you hungry? It should be almost lunchtime.”

No answer. It’s almost like dealing with the adults Andrew and Neil again.

Lunch is bland and unimaginative; Kevin follows the recipe obsessively, unwilling to make children choke down trash. It’s one thing for their adult selves to indulge Kevin in his lack of culinary talent, but children don’t yet have the taste buds for experimental food, nor the desire to put up with their caretakers’ inability to cook. More than once he resists the urge to add more spice — or even more salt.

While he cooks, Kevin allows Andrew and Neil to get acquainted with each other. They talk quietly, eyeing the other with no less suspicion they eyed Kevin with, and seem happy to do their own thing. Skittish, for sure: but can they be blamed for it? Kevin doesn’t expect them to hit it off immediately, especially with Neil’s under-socialization. In the week or so Kevin should have them, it is likely they’ll progress on that front.

Polite like a trained dog, Andrew waits by the kitchen doorway to help Kevin with setting the table. He’s far too small for such a task — he’ll drop any glassware Kevin gives him. Still, unwilling to let the child feel useless, Kevin asks him to set some napkins and cutlery out. Yes, that should be enough.

“Thank you, Andrew,” he says when he is done finishing up on their plates. Looking at the portions, Kevin is inclined to think they are far too much for someone of their size, but he doubts either have had access to an unrestricted meal in quite a while. At their age, Kevin knows he hadn’t. “It is very kind of you to help with the table.”

Andrew tilts his head towards his food without comment. He is almost unnervingly polite. It’s not the Andrew Kevin knows, and the contrast feels scathing.

Despite the children’s best efforts, their meal is not quiet. Kevin is not good with children, but he likes to think he is good with Andrew and Neil — as good as one can be, anyway. He prompts them into conversation by asking questions about their interests, their lives, their routines; half of it is trying to figure out how to care for these two, and the other half is emulating a chewed-out memory of how Kayleigh used to talk to him.

She was never the kind of parent who baby-talked to Kevin. As soon as he was able to, she tried to engage him in conversation — however loose that concept can be for a five-year-old. Kayleigh, from what he remembers of her, had the ability to make anyone feel listened to; Kevin doesn’t remember ever doubting she cared for his childish babbling about toys and daycare, even if nostalgia had colored the memory a soft mouth-pink. He only wishes he would’ve gotten at least half of her social adeptness. From Kayleigh, all Kevin got was green eyes, a gaping hunger for success and an inescapable attraction to troubled men.

“I play Exy and I like books,” Kevin offers in trade for information. It’s — well, he doesn’t have many hobbies. The gardening and the cooking are a late product of much of Dr. Betsy Dobson’s insistence that Kevin must make something out of himself that isn’t Exy-related. “I like cooking but I’m not good at it. And I like gardening but it takes a lot of work so I don’t do it all the time.”

“It’s not that bad,” Andrew tells him, motioning to his food with small movements. He finished his plate in record time, inhaling Kevin’s poor attempt at a caesar salad like it’s a five stars meal. On the other hand, Neil is halfway through with his and looks done already. “Your food.”

“Not that bad?” Kevin tilts his head slightly, amused. He’ll take it, he supposes. “Thank you, Andrew.”

Hesitant, like perhaps he fears Kevin will be angry at him for it, Neil picks up the conversation where he left off to say, “I like… horses. But, um, like toys.”

“Horses, I see,” Kevin repeats, a bit hopeless. Children’s interests are so loose. “And what else?”

Neil flicks him a suspicious glare. “What else?”

“I gave you four of my interests. A conversation has to be equal.”

Looking as if Kevin had sprouted a second head right in front of him, Neil does not do as he is asked so much as he stares at Kevin, mouth open in a little o. Has no one asked this child what he likes before? It feels out of character for the Butcher of Baltimore, sure, but Neil’s mother had seemed to care for him, at least from what little Kevin had heard about her.

“No?” Kevin tries after a few moments of silence. “I’m just trying to be friends.”

“Why would you be my friend?” Neil asks, putting down his fork with surprising care; as if to ensure it makes no noise. Even his voice is small and unobtrusive, despite the words. “Adults and children aren’t friends. Adults want children to be quiet.”

Kevin hides a wince. He hadn’t imagined the Butcher of Baltimore, in all his serial killer glory, would have indulged his child in conversation — and by the way Neil acts, he could’ve guessed for himself that most of Neil’s childhood had been trying to stay out of his father’s way. But no one ever wants to assume the worst out of a loved one’s suffering; Kevin had held out hope there’d be at least a silver lining in Neil’s horror stories.

It is not unlike how Kevin and Riko were raised in the Nest, anyway. Their private tutors were stern, and despite much of their trying, there was no place for childhood in Evermore: they were told to keep quiet or else. The Master would often say that they were not to act like children — it hadn’t occurred to him up until now how cruel it is to forbid a child from being childish.

“Well, if I’m asking you, don’t you think I want to know?” Kevin argues. “Not all adults think the same thing. Do you think the same thing as every other child?”

A pause. Neil shakes his head, looking somewhat green, as if he had just realized what he said. From Kevin’s other side, Andrew stares anxiously.

Rubbing a hand through his face, Kevin slowly puts out, trying to enunciate his words as gentle as he can make them, “I am not angry that you spoke your mind. It makes sense, what you said.” He shakes his head a little. Only a few minutes in, and he’s already ruining it — Kevin’s no good for anything that doesn’t involve a racquet. “But I would not have asked if I didn’t want to know. Do you understand?”

A small, careful nod. Kevin will take whatever he can get.

“Good.” Kevin starts to gather the empty plates — his and Andrew’s —, and motions towards Neil’s half-finished one. “Do you not like it? I can make you something else, if you want.”

The sudden shift in conversation visibly vexes Neil, but, politely, he replies, “...Not hungry.”

From beside Kevin, Andrew flinches. Hurrying to dispel it, Kevin says, “It’ll be in the fridge in case you want it later.” Piling the plates into one of his hands, Kevin offers the other one to Andrew. “Come on, you didn’t get to tell me what you like during lunch.”

The child watches Kevin’s hand — the right one, smooth and unscarred if a little crooked from the years of gripping racquets — warily before accepting it, threading his little fingers through Kevin’s. His hand feels unimaginably small; so fragile it is a wonder it even exists. Kevin is reminded of the first time he saw a baby bird, back in Dublin: he’d told his mom he couldn’t tell if it was super ugly or super cute. She’d laughed for what felt like an eternity after.

Still sitting politely at the table, Neil watches their joined hands, frowning. Kevin can’t tell what he’s thinking — wouldn’t be able to even with an adult Neil —, but the face he makes claws at his heart. “N—” not his name, “ah, do you want to come with?”

Thus invited, Neil follows them into the kitchen. Kevin washes the dishes and listens as Andrew tells him, a little shyly, that he likes Sesame Street, street cats (“Really?” Kevin asks. “Aren’t their claws a little scary?” to which Andrew seems to lose some respect for him on the spot), chocolate and amusement parks, when he is allowed to go. It's a fairly common list — Kevin didn’t know what he expected a five-year-old version of Andrew to like. Something a little more unorthodox, perhaps.

But children are the same everywhere, at any point. Andrew soaks up the attention Kevin gives him, happy to answer all questions, if a little insecure on why Kevin would be asking them. Knowing where Andrew was at this age, he doesn’t doubt it’s been a while an adult has actually spoken to him with some level of care for what he has to say: when was the last time Andrew has actually felt companionship? Someone who hears what he says and asks questions about it?

It feels sacrilegious to stop now. Already out of dishes to clean, Kevin scrubs and re-scrubs their plates until his hands ache as he asks Andrew questions, not unaware of Neil’s watching eyes.

“And how is it? California?” Kevin asks. The next thing he says is a bold-faced lie, because he’s visited Jean before, but he still says it. “I’ve never been. I heard it’s beautiful.”

He’s heard no such thing. Jean seems to think California is where meaningful art goes to die, but he can’t tell Andrew that.

“Is okay,” Andrew tells him, propped up on a stool next to Kevin. His little legs swing mindlessly. “The traffic — there’s traffic. And Disneyland.”

“You’ve been?” He asks again.

“Oh, um, no.”

It’s expected. “I have not either,” Kevin relates, making it sound like a bigger woe than it really is. His hands are rubbed raw at this point, and the soap pricks at the skin of his palms — soon, he’ll have to stop. Just a little more. “I don’t think I’d like it, either way.”

Andrew watches him curiously. “Why?”

“I don’t like crowds.” It’s not as easy as that, but Kevin leaves it as it is. The prickling sensation of the soap starts to crawl up his wrist, and he decides it is time to stop. Drying his hands off on a nearby cloth, Kevin prompts, “How about some dessert?”

It is the first time he’s ever said those words, and they horrify him, but the quickly-hidden flash of interest in Andrew’s face is worth breaking his streak for. From the stool beside Andrew, Neil frowns lightly. This child is too serious — Kevin tries to remember if he was like this back in little league, but his memory is not the best after so many hits to the head.

He rummages through their freezer. Andrew’s adult self is fond of indulging — there are a few half-eaten ice cream cartons tucked beneath frozen peas and other such vegetables, though most of them are flavored a cherry liqueur Kevin will most certainly not feed to children. Scavenging further he is able to retain a sealed chocolate carton, the frost covering it making his fingertips tingle.

This has to be too frozen to eat. Helpless, Kevin turns to look at the two five-year-olds as if they have a better idea. It’s weird, now, to be the person Andrew and Neil look to for answers — Kevin is used to it being the other way around. He is caught thinking that he’ll probably struggle in the coming days, without his two little shadows making life easier for him.

“I think if I microwave it a little bit, nothing’s going to happen,” Kevin mumbles to himself, aware that he is not inspiring much respect as an authority figure. He’s no Andrew, after all: Kevin’s still himself, despite all his best efforts to be someone else.

The ice cream loses some of its original texture in the microwave, but, if anything, Andrew seems to enjoy it as Kevin passes him a bowl. Neil does not accept one himself, politely saying he doesn't like sweets, and the lack of attitude from him is disturbing. Kevin is used to Neil being a force of nature — seeing him this quiet, this contained, is not easy. It makes him think of the iron-shaped scar on his adult self’s chest. All that dead skin.

Unwilling to let him be left out, Kevin cuts some slices of apple for him, which Neil takes with some degree of gratefulness. The little boys settle in front of the TV while Kevin manages to find a children’s channel, looking small on their ratty dorm carpet. Kevin isn’t sure children should be this small in the first place — he’s not sure if they are little because of genetics, or neglect. How much can you hurt a child until they disappear?

Kevin sits himself with them, cross-legged. He is too old to see the appeal of children’s television, so most of it is watching them from the corner of his eye and finding out what to say to Aaron to get him to come and help.

You 14:36

Hello. I think whatever happened to me last month just happened to Andrew and Neil.

As in, they have turned into five-year-olds. If you’ve forgotten.

When there is no immediate response, Kevin huffs to himself and snatches a picture of their two little heads pending towards each other, deep in conversation about the show they are watching. Kevin is, at least, relieved to see them interacting at all: Andrew might have been to kindergarten already, but Neil has always been undersocialized, all tutors and nannies. If Kevin can’t be his friend, then at least Andrew can.

The picture gets him a quicker answer.

Aaron 14:45

what the fuck what the fuck what the ufck

why doe sthis keep fucking happening to you

Like it’s his fault!

You 14:45

This is not the kind of thing I can control.

They are good children. Polite. Easier to deal with than I was, I wager. But I need you to come and help.

Aaron 14:47

why should i

what makes you think i could help you

You 14:49

Because he is your brother.

Before Kevin can read Aaron’s answer, something hooks on his hair. Looking down, he finds Andrew’s hand hanging a few inches away from it, alarmed and wide-eyed at being caught. Behind him, Neil looks just as queasy, as if this had been their joint effort.

“Can I help you?” Kevin asks, raising his eyebrow a little. When he gets no response, he concedes, "You can touch. Don’t tug or pull. And keep it away from your mouth.”

No response. Kevin doubles down, “It’s really fine. Here.” He pulls his hair out of its low ponytail, letting it curtain down his shoulders and back. It’s not often he lets his hair down like this — it can be too much of a hassle. Kevin ought to cut it one day, but the thought still makes him a little sick to think of. “As long as you’re careful.”

An hesitant little hand inches closer and closer, still warily watching out for Kevin’s reaction. When Andrew finds no resistance, he combs little fingers down the length of Kevin’s hair, faint and amazed. He’s not very gentle — children are too clumsy for it, still, and there is some tugging. It doesn’t hurt, though. Kevin allows it.

Resigning himself to being played with, Kevin gives them his back, leaning his elbow against the couch. Another pair of little hands clutches at a chunk of hair, and he knows Andrew has convinced Neil to get in on their impromptu hairdresser salon. At least they’re playing, Kevin consoles himself as he feels a pull on his scalp. At least they’re getting along.

“I have hair ribbons on my desk,” he offers, knowing what he is setting himself up to and still going through with it. “Colorful ones. Satin. Would you like to see them?”

A pause on the tugging. “Really?” That was Neil.

“Yes. But I’ll have to get up to get them.”

“I can do it,” Andrew tells him, the ever-helpful little waiter. He’s so polite — Kevin wonders if they taught him there is a higher chance of getting adopted if you treat the foster parents with subservience. Probably. “Where is it?”

“Andrew, it’s fine—”

“I’ll do it. He’s still playing, so I’ll do it.”

So kind, giving Neil time to play by himself. Kevin, helplessly charmed, would allow him anything. “Okay. Thank you.” Motioning vaguely in the direction of their desks, he says, “It’s the one with the shelves on top of it. Yes, that one, with the books. Be careful not to hit your head!” Watching Andrew narrowly duck under a shelf gives Kevin half an aneurysm, but the child seems no less interested in his quest. “First drawer. There. Did you find it?”

“Yes,” Andrew replies, shoving a chubby fist into the drawer and pulling out a handful of hair ribbons, all different colors and sizes. There was an organization system to it, and his careless pulling has clearly ruined it. A little disheartened, Kevin doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “This?”

“Yes. Please keep the drawer closed.”

The drawer snaps shut, and Andrew makes his way back to them, freshly acquired ribbons falling over his fingers and wrist in colorful flops. Kevin doesn’t see him sit back down, but he feels Andrew’s hand on his hair again. “Why do you have shelves?” Neil asks after a few moments of silence, their hands working ribbons in his hair via extremely clumsy braiding. “Um, just you, I mean. The others are empty.”

That he’s asking anything seems like a blessing, when the child is so quiet. “My—” Kevin hesitates. How to even describe it? “My… friend built them for me. The shelves. He got annoyed at me for leaving my books everywhere.”

It’s true. Just as Kevin loathes Andrew’s habit of leaving his cigarettes anywhere, so does Andrew loathe Kevin’s astray book piles across the living room, left half-read or unfinished in his haste to get to class or practice. The shelves had been less of a compromise and more of a surprise: one day, they were simply sitting above his desk like they’ve always been there. Kevin never asked Andrew if he built them, but he figured the wood splinters on his fingers were reason enough. It took a lot of arguing for Andrew to take them out the right way, instead of just letting the splinters break on their own.

“Oh,” Andrew says, entirely unaware of the story being about his older self and focused on tying a bow on Kevin’s hair. “Where is he?”

“There’s two of them, actually. They’re away for work.” Kevin leans his head closer when the tugging starts to get a little painful. “What are you doing back there, anyway?”

“It’s pretty,” Neil murmurs, defending his work. Kevin doubts it is, but he’s happy to even have the little Neil’s attention at all.

“You know how to braid?” He asks, trying to steal a look and getting his head gently moved back by Andrew. “By the way, what’s your name? You haven’t said.”

Neil hesitates, hands freezing. Kevin keeps talking, “Whatever you want to be called.”

“Um,” Neil thinks on it for a moment. He seems to be rolling Kevin’s hair nervously around his fingers now; a nervous fidget. “My—my dad calls me Junior, but my mom calls me Nat—Nathaniel.”

He doesn’t say it like he enjoys being called either.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” Kevin tilts his head in acknowledgement, because he wasn’t raised in a barn. “I’m Kevin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Shy little thing he is, Nathaniel doesn’t answer.

The children play with Kevin’s hair for a few more minutes before losing interest, leaving him a mess of ribbons and tangles he decides not to deal with for now. He imagines they should be put to sleep soon — children this small sleep in the afternoon, do they not? At their age, Kevin is sure he had to be made to nap one way or another, what with his mother’s hectic schedule. It’s a bit of a parenting cop-out, he is aware, but… Kevin could use a nap himself. Sure the children do, too.

He makes a show out of yawning behind his palm. Two pairs of eyes turn to him, neither particularly moved by his display. Tough crowd.

“Maybe we can all take a nap,” Kevin suggests. Nothing.

#asks #kandreil #my writing #thisis very scuffed i did some minor editing but its seriously not good. dont perceive me

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justallihere · 2 months

Note

AHHHHHHHHH

Before I get into my thoughts(I freaking LOVED this chapter): I hope you find this amusing. I took a post-work nap and was super excited to hopefully wake up to the new update... I then had a very strange dream involving me reading the new chapter but it took a very strange and morbid turn where a lot of people ended up dying in your fic? 💀 I was very confused 😭 bc at some point it wasn't even FW-related anymore, it just had the characters and they were all dying and then i was fighting for my life trying not to die???? I blame the mix of caffeine I had before my nap and my chronic pain. Safe to say i woke up sweating and very confused BUT i grabbed my phone and was very happy to see the notifications for the update.

Moving onto my thoughts (Alli, the way i was LITERALLY screaming throughout the entire chapter) Strap in for a LENGTHY ask. I just love you and this fic so much can you tell my parasocial relationship might be getting out of hand

Xaden woke up and was like "Where is my wife and why isn't she here and in bed with me so I can secretly cuddle and admire her beautiful face and hair 😞", man is whipped

Violet being very grouchy and uncomfortable bc she is in pain and probably didnt sleep well? Honestly so relatable bc i was like, same girlie same. I love how you continue to highlight how Violet deals with chronic pain and how people around her are stunned by how she continues to function (i.e Garrick) It's so realistic and I love it (looking at you RY, some days ppl can't just push through and put it inside a box all the damn time) Xaden is so in tune with her needs, he's frothing at the mouth for the chance to take care of her

“It’s called taking care of you. My sincerest apologies if you’re unfamiliar with the concept.” I FREAKING SCREECHED. The fact that Xaden verbalized this to Violet's face, it just shows how he is already starting to try to re-write the narrative between the two and their relationship

Even though you already gave us the snippet of the divorce convo, I still ate it up, I can't get enough of these two!!!!

Big brother Brennan coming in clutch and telling everyone that she can only stomach fruit so Violet doesn't have to do it herself!!!! wonderful detail and it shows Violet that Brennan cares and remembers. He's trying Violet!!!! But Violet still hasn't forgiven him and I am living for it. Make him suffer girlie

I am so honored that my comment has now contributed to this fic 😭. This will be my Roman Empire for a HOT second. Of course, Xaden was able to deduct that she's good with poisons, its only right 😌. I imagine this is the progression of Garrick's face during this (🤨🤯😧😳) and Brennan has the biggest internal grin 😭 I am a sucker for older siblings being proud of their baby siblings

DON'T PANIC, THE BOOK OF FABLES WAS MENTIONED. WE ARE SO CLOSE TO THE REVEAL!!!!!!! Brennan is stirring the pot whether he knows it or not. I'm cackling manically for the havoc that is about to be unleashed on their poor souls.

Did Xaden want to wring Brennan's neck for talking about the wyvern? Or he is secretly happy that he didn't have to do it himself. I remember there was an ask about how in the contract Tyrrendor wasn't allowed to disclose that information to Violet?

freaking frack... Xaden taking care of Violet will always make me weak. The fact that Violet lets him???? Girlie deserves to be pampered after the absolute shit she has and will go through

“Have you ever considered that I like putting my hands on you?” Xaden asked. -- I would fold so fast, Violet is so strong 🫡. Xaden is so in tune with her nonverbal cues. She doesn't have to say a word and he's ready to be at her service. Man is down BAD for his wife and I am fully supportive of men being absolute simps for their hot wives

the fact that we get the backstory to how Xaden learned to braid and how Sloane MADE him redo it until it was good???? *chefs kiss* Of course Brennan would do Sloane's hair. He needed it as much as Sloane needed someone to do it for her. I am SOBBING. How do you keep making me feel things Alli??? I DON'T DO FEELINGS!!!!!

Deigh feels like a pseudo uncle or older brother to Andarana and I am LIVING for it. Andarana's like "Mom and dad need to bone so I'll make Deigh hang out with me" 😭

Of course, Violet comes up with a new way to implement runes. THATS MY GIRL! You are a genius for thinking that!!! (unless that's canon then please ignore me. I think I've reached a point where fanfics almost become canon for FW and I can't differentiate them rn)

"Disappointment washed over him, entirely illogical; he liked the sight of her wearing something that belonged to him." You poor soul Xaden. Its only downhill from here. Emotions are never logical smh

"For that alone, Xaden didn’t complain when he took the gloves, and Liam just grinned like he knew it." I bet Xaden would murder her brother if he wasn't important if it would ensure her laugh and smile like that

geez. if you read through all of this and still answer me, thank you 🖤🖤🖤🖤 (I'm re-reading this and realized I actually wrote an essay....) I hope you can rest up this weekend and take it easy!!!!

I also took a bomb nap before posting this chapter yesterday, I love that we were on the same page about it 🫶🏻 (also it’s not parasocial if it’s reciprocated, we’re besties now)

So many beautiful thoughts here thank you!!!!! Xaden is a simp and he and Brennan are NOT prepared for Violet to find out secrets and start demanding answers from them. They should be more scared than they are

I like to let Garrick learn some new scary fun fact about Violet every so often, it keeps him humble. He deserves to be scared of this woman half his size (and as soon as he figures out that keeping her happy means Xaden will do anything, he’ll take so much advantage of it. So will Mira when she starts spending more time with them).

Deigh has been roped into this strange little family and he’s like “okay this is fine I guess” because he respects Tairn and Sgaeyl and also likes Andarna but is a little scared of her at the same time

Honestly the runes in the book confuse the fuck out of me, I tried my best, I don’t think it’s canon but Violet strikes me as the type to have all these extravagant ideas about how to use them except she’s not good enough with them yet to do it herself so she asks Xaden who will do literally anything for her

#storm in the quiet

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Note

Hey, I really love the way you write. It’s so beautiful. 💕✨ Since you wrote requested one shots about reader having a miscarriage (this was so sad) and also one where reader and Joe actually are trying to get pregnant, may I request reader giving birth to her and Joe’s first child and Joe being nervous and all over the place and maybe almost on the verge of fainting? Thank youuuu ☺️☺️💖

i had FUN writing this one, and i know its very rambly and i also know that i didnt really fully do this request the way you asked it (sorry) but i tried my best and sorry if my sentences are too long (like this one) but i hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 1.8K

--------

Let’s Have This Baby

You wake up. Again. It’s maybe the seventh time that night that a cramp pulls you out of your slumber. Your very light slumber – it’s hard to get some deep sleep when you’re days overdue.

Logically you know this might be actual contractions, but that’s way too scary to pay any actual mind to, so in full denial, you tell yourself there’s no way these cramps follow each other up close enough for them to be considered a good enough reason to wake up Joe. They are however painful enough to audibly huff and puff your way through them which in turn wakes up Joe anyway.

A soft hand curls over your pregnant stomach as you lay on your side, and it’s tender and cute, but it’s definitely not helpful. It’s hot enough in the bed as it is anyway.

“Big one?” Joe murmurs behind you as he snuggles up close, big spooning you all the way over on your side of the bed. You hold your breath as the pain seems to reach its peak, eyes shut tightly and then, when it subsides, you exhale and relax completely. Or, well, as much as you can anyway. Being this pregnant there’s no way to relax to 100% comfortability, the weight of your stomach and the actual person in there made everything awful.

You are clammy and feel the urge to pee, but know it’s just because there’s someone pressing against your bladder in there, so you do your best to ignore it and mentally try to will yourself back to sleep. You want at least a little more of it, and Joe’s steady breathing in your ear and the soft, slow belly rubs help.

But there’s no way you get the chance to drift off.

Another contraction creeps up on you and this time, it’s different. You feel it coming on sooner as if from further away this time, and the sensitivity dial in your body seems to have been turned up to a much higher setting. It makes you grab onto Joe’s hand, taking it from your belly and squeezing it hard, crushing its bones together.

“That was only 7 minutes,” Joe speaks with a slight urgency in his voice, not mentioning that you were hurting his hand, because why would he want to start a fight right now. But Joe’s been awake this whole time and he’s been timing you because Joe was told that that was a job the dad could do and so that’s what he did.

You manage to bite through the pain, trying to remember strategies you’d learned, but all seem to difficult to put into practice right now – you’re exhausted, in bed and had no desire to swing into full action right now. After about a minute of clenching, you can feel the tension in your stomach ebb away and you gasp for air, only then realizing you’d been holding it for almost the entire time.

“It’s not been a full hour of them yet,” you try to settle Joe, trying to rid him of any panic he might be feeling. But you are lying to yourself if you say you aren’t absolutely trying to rid the shudder of panic you’re feeling yourself.

This might be the start of it. This might be the time. You were days overdue, so this wasn’t a huge surprise and you were very ready to get this kid out of you, but the prospect of actual labour was scary enough to want to pretend it wasn’t actually going to be happening at all. Ever. You could just be pregnant for the rest of your life, you decided. You’d be fine. Live in a wheelchair. Eat for two for every meal. It’d be glorious, you’d lie to yourself.

“Babe,” Joe starts. “It’s been hours. Plural.” Joe now sits up and turns on his nightlight. “You’ve hardly slept,” he accuses, and he’s right, but that doesn’t mean that Joe has to say it aloud and it rubs you wrong. But then you see Joe’s face and you know that because you haven’t gotten any sleep, Joe hasn’t gotten any either. His tired eyes confirm that you’re right.

“Shh, I’m fine. There’s no rush.” You’re not one to give in easily, and you tuck your arms close, hands under your pillow and you close your eyes again. You know you’re not actually going to be going back to sleep, not now Joe’s turned the lights on, but you also know that you don’t want to get up and go to the hospital. So you procrastinate the birth of your child as a form of protest.

Joe thinks is cute, but doesn’t have the patience for it.

“Breakfast. Decaf cappuccino.” Joe says, kissing you on your clammy forehead before getting up and walking out. It’s only 3:30am and just because you’re very stubborn, and not to mention terrified, you try very hard to actually drift off a little again, but it’s to no avail. Joe’s mention of breakfast has also made you hungry, which doesn’t help.

Another contraction builds in your pelvis and you think it’s unfair how they get worse every time. Joe can hear you squirm and huff and puff from the kitchen and he checks his watch.

“Six minutes!” he calls out and he then knows there’s no way that this isn’t happening right now. This is actually it. To be completely sure, Joe makes a phone call and is told that yes, you could go ahead and come to the hospital.

Joe knows he’s ready. The hospital bag has been by the door for days, good to go. He places breakfast down on your bedside table and helps you sit up against the headboard before placing the cappuccino in your hand.

You get the show of a lifetime watching Joe get dressed in top speed. It’s clumsy, clothes get stuck on things they wouldn’t have gotten stuck on had Joe gotten dressed calmly, and when he finishes putting his shoes on, you pretend to click a stopwatch in your palm. “50 seconds!” you joke, pretending you’ve timed him like he’s been timing you.

Joe helps you out of bed after a few bites of breakfast and hoists you into a different outfit, one that’s okay for the hospital and when you want to stop by the bathroom to quickly straighten your hair and maybe do a little make-up, Joe steers you towards the front door, ignoring your protests.

The delay to get to the hospital, the pretense that you’re fine and calm and just dandy is just your way of coping, Joe knows.

But you’re leaving now.

It’s time.

And when Joe opens the front door, you try to think of another reason to not leave the house quite yet when another contraction takes hold over your system. And standing up, they’re worse. You cling to Joe, making him take on your full body weight because you want to actually get down onto the floor to take this pain on your knees because somehow on your feet it’s not so easy.

It takes little time to get to the car, and when Joe slams your door shut and jogs to the drivers side, that short moment by yourself is enough to admit that you’re having an active panic attack. Right here. Right now.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you say when Joe opens his door and gets in.

“Let’s go,” Joe doesn’t even look at you, quickly starts the car whilst getting his seatbelt on and pulls out of his parking spot.

“I can’t do this,” you repeat, now more so speaking to yourself. “Why did I let this happen to myself, why did you- why did you do this to me? You did this! Why?!”

There’s waterworks, and there’s shouting, and there’s a seatbelt that doesn’t sit comfortably because there’s a huge round stupid stomach, but there’s also driving, and traffic and Joe can do nothing more than give you his one free hand to hold onto, to squeeze into and just because you need Joe to share your pain, to bite into for just a second as you struggle through another contraction.

“Turn the car around!” you demand. “You’ve got to- we’ve got to stop!” Joe completely ignores you, his foot steady on the gas pedal.

“Stop! Stop the car, you need to-” you’re breaths are high in your chest, and Joe can’t have you pass out from hyperventilation, not when he’s stuck behind the wheel of his car and not now that there’s an actual baby on its way out of you.

“Hey!” Joe cuts you off, his voice loud over yours and it shuts you up immediately. Joe turns to look at you for just a second to make eye contact, and you look absolutely petrified.

“I’m scared too!” Joe shouts, and you don’t understand why Joe thinks that raising his voice at you is of any help to you right now.

“But you can do this!” Joe’s hand squeezes yours now instead of the other way around, and it sort of grounds you. “We can do this.” Joe’s talking courage into himself now too. “We’re going to have a baby today.”

Your face contorts. Another contraction.

“Let’s have it at the hospital instead of in the car on the side of the road, all right?”

Joe brings your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it.

“All right?!” He asks again, louder this time, waiting for your verbal confirmation.

“All right! All right.” You confirm.

And it was all right, because Joe was there, and he would be there the whole time, and going through the rest of your life as a pregnant lady didn’t seem appealing to you at all, think of how little pee your bladder would be able to hold when it’d grow into adult sizes.

No.

Having a baby in the hospital was the better option. So you decide that you’re going to do this. You’re going to shoot this baby out of you and get the best fucking sleep after because you love sleeping on your stomach and haven’t been able to sleep on your stomach for months. And God, you’re were going to have sushi, and maybe a beer and Joe said he’d get you a steak, rare, the way you like it, because you really miss having steak the way you like it so much and it’s all going to be all right.

“All right.” You say again, now smiling, and Joe can hear the smile in your voice but checks just to make sure that he’s heard it right and he feels the terror of the situation subside.

“Let’s have this baby!” You channel the nervous energy into focus and excitement, a tinge of fear still there, but not enough to let it overpower you.

“Let’s have this baby!” Joe repeats copying your excitement but his voice louder than yours, and you each squeeze each other’s hands, fingers tight and bones crushing and you know it’ll be all right. It will all be all right. ----

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