#anon's ocs

[the1trueanon]

"Rest now, you're safe here."

[bunnis-monsters]

Incubus Husband x pregnant reader please

He’s so careful with you, absolutely terrified that being too close may cause you to miscarry.

Lucian takes a little bit of your life force every time you have sex. It’s not enough to cause any damage, but he does get worried that it’ll hurt the baby.

That is… until you’re horny and desperate.

“Baby, please… at least gimme your tail…”

He’s pouting as you press against him, your lip wobbling. “I already told you I can’t… what if I hurt the baby?”

A groan leaves your lips. “We talked to several incubi and succubi, there’s no correlation between miscarriage and sex with an incubus. You’re being paranoid…”

With a whine, his tail slipped between your legs, giving you that friction you desired.

“Mmph… that’s the spot…”

And after watching your pregnant body grind against his tail, feeling your slick flowing down it… he couldn’t help but spread your legs and fuck into you!

[rafeslvbug]

your kids telling nfl!rafe they don’t want to do sports…

your daughter:

she’s only three, absolutely adores her dad and does not feel the same way about netball. he enrolled her as soon as he could, determined to turn both his kids into little sports people.

but she discovers early on that she doesn’t like it.

it’s when you’re baking with her, she’s sat on the counter, chewing on the string of her dress until it soaks and you have to pry it out her mouth, that she softly whispers to you, slightly ashamed, “momma i don’t like netball anymore.”

you cup her chubby cheeks in your hands, cooing at her soft pout and the tears bubbling in her soft, round eyes. you frown at her crumbling face.

“why not baby? is there somethin’ else you wanna do?” you ask softly, humming as she nods her head, pigtails bobbing up and down.

“ballet,” she nestles her head into your stomach, as if to hide from the shame she feels in not wanting to do what rafe wants her to. you took her to a ballet class a few weeks ago, and hadn’t even realised how much she liked it. holding her in your arms, you reassure her in the best way you can. “yeah? you can do ballet,” but she only shakes her head, rubbing at her wet eyes with little balled fists. furrowed brows, you ask why not, only for her to respond with a guilty whisper of “dada”.

after a few gentle coaxes you manage to get her to agree to tell rafe, but she clings to you the whole way to the couch, where he’s sitting with your older son. you kneel by the couch as she climbs into rafe’s lap and breaks the news, watching as rafe’s face morphs from initial disappointment to near tears of his own when she starts crying again.

he engulfs her in his arms, rocking her back and forth to soothe her, shushing her with a gentle, “it’s okay baby girl, it’s okay, daddy’s not angry, i think it’s great. yeah? me and your momma will take you to get cute outfits, i’ll take ya’ to practice n’ everythin’, ‘kay?” he murmurs into her hair until she calms down, pulling away enough for him to wipe her tears and kiss her on the forehead.

it doesn’t take long for her to be okay again, bouncing and bubbly as she toddles off to play with her dolls. when she’s gone, rafe groans, running a hand over his face as he drops his head back. you chuckle at his behaviour, the picture of a man in despair either from the fact that she doesn’t want to play netball anymore or that she got so worried she cried. that in itself was enough to make him crumple.

“i know that was hard for you, baby,” you tease, sitting on the couch next to him while one hand of his reaches out to lay your legs over his lap.

“hard? sweetcheeks, that was fuckin’ devastating,” he mumbles,burying his face into your neck, only causing you to laugh more. “i hear ballet’s hard though..” he muses, appreciating hard work over anything.

“yeah? and she’ll look adorable in the tutu,” you add, earning a hum from rafe while you pat his back, sharing a look with your son as he plays with his trucks on the floor. rafe was always the exaggerator.

your son:

he wouldn’t even allow it.

(jk, if his son really didn’t like it, he’d get over it. luckily for him, his son does like nfl)

[psin314]

be careful, boys. 😦

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Sugar Daddy

Money can't buy love, but maybe it doesn't have to.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who's very nouveau riche. Who has the wealth of the elites but none of their good breeding.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who's awfully young for someone so wealthy. Barely out of college when his tech startup went public and the cash started pouring in.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who is still painfully awkward around women.

Being a rich man in a big city means there's no shortage of models and influencers vying for his attention. And Yandere! Sugar Daddy never fails to get flustered when they're introduced to him.

Long legs, perfect skin, tiny ski slope noses... They're the kind of girls who wouldn't give him the time of day back in college and suddenly they're running their hands up his chest and whispering that he's just so clever, so accomplished. What guy wouldn't fall for it?

But he can never keep them around for long.

Their interest slowly dies out when he starts rambling about software development and production scale and AI integration. Money is a great motivator but all his girlfriends seem to leave for greener pastures. For millionaires with better social skills and better taste.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who ran into you entirely on accident. The club was too loud, the girls too pretty, the alcohol too rich. He slipped out of VIP and into the street, pressing his forehead against the cool brick and trying not to spew on the new designer shoes his ex persuaded him to get.

And that was when you came into his life. Cool hands on his shoulder and a voice telling him to take a deep breath and drink some of your water.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who looks up at you through his lashes, his face flushed from too much booze and being too near you. He can't fathom it. A girl helping him not because of his cash or connections, but because they're actually a kind person.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who grabs your hand when you turn to go. Your friends are calling to you to stop messing around with random drunks and he manages to slip you his business card, begging you to call him so he can thank you properly.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who wakes up with a killer hangover and your face burned into his eyelids. Who feels his heart jump when he opens his phone and sees a text from you.

Hope your night got better - y/n

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who immediately zooms in on your profile picture. A candid shot but it still makes him blush. Before the morning is over, he's already tracked down your social media.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who pores over every inch of your life. Your job, your studies, your friends...

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who retypes his message at least a dozen times before he finally responds to you. Who invites you to the most exclusive restaurant in the city as a thank you.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who picks you up in the most expensive car he owns. Who smiles a little at the careful way you close the door and buckle your seat belt. You're just as uncomfortable around luxury as he was.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who doesn't expect much from the date. He's learned not to go on tangents about technology and work, but without it he feels lost.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who realises you're more than capable of carrying a conversation. You're energetic and funny and interested in what he has to say. He feels himself opening up to you and before long, he's deep into a rant about data safety and you actually listen to him.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who realises you compliment him. Like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who ends the night with a lipstick stain on his cheek and a big, goofy grin on his face.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who calls you the second he wakes up and invites you to spend the afternoon learning to horse ride.

And when you tell him you have work, he just laughs and tells you he'll triple whatever you're getting paid for the day. You nearly faint when he keeps his word and sends you a deposit worth more than your monthly cheque.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who wants to call you his girlfriend more than anything. His girl. He loves the way it sounds.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who tags along when you go grocery shopping and whips out his card to pay for it all when your back is turned.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who sends you a huge bouquet every week because you once mentioned liking lillies.

And the closer you get, the more time you spend kissing him and curling up in his bed, the more he spends on you.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who uses spring break to take you on a tour of the Mediterranean. Who rents out entire villas and chateaus to impress you.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who has your birthday dress custom made by an actual high fashion house. Who zips you up and kisses your neck and says he's never met a more beautiful girl.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who spends shareholder meetings daydreaming about you. Who has to pinch himself to stay focused.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who's helpless to stop himself falling for you. You're so real, so empty of pretence and greed.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who showers you with all the wealth he has and is blind to how uncomfortable it makes you.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who looks at you with a vacant smile when you try and break things off. Who pulls out his phone and sends you a deposit with so many zeros you have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing it right. Who asks if that's enough for more of your time or if he should double it.

Do you want a new car? An apartment? He'll give you anything, anything in the world.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who looks like a kicked dog when you say you don't want any of it. You hate feeling indebted to him. You hate feeling like some vapid trophy wife. You hate living off his charity.

He can't understand it. You could work for decades and not afford even a quarter of what he can give you. Is he so unpleasant, so unlovable, that you're wiling to turn your back of a life of luxury?

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who comes up behind you and slams the door shut when you try to leave.

You've always seen him as a nice guy, someone awkward and gentle. But the look in his eyes now makes you question all of it.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy whose voice is a low, broken rasp. He sounds on the verge of tears and on the verge of fury all at once.

You think you can just leave after everything you've been through together? After the fortune he spent trying to make you happy?

No way baby.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who grabs your wrist and yanks you up against him.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who laughs when you threaten to scream. Luxury penthouse, remember? Totally sound proofed. Totally private. No one gets in or out without his permission.

It's just you and him, like it should have been from the beginning.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who squeezes your wrist hard enough to hurt. Who kisses you so rough you cut your lips on your teeth.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy who yanks at the pretty dress that he bought you. You want to be an ungrateful bitch? You want to throw his kindness back in his face? Oh, he's going to teach you a lesson.

You fucking owe him.

And he's going to use your body until that debt is paid.

[cloudedcreams]

thinking of a yandere! who's avatar is always customised as you.

it's a quirk really. you don't know him, but you've been viewing his content for a while. it makes you feel special, seeing the features uncannily match your appearance, as he clothes them in shades of pink and white.

you felt bold one day, lingering over the chat one day as you typed out a message. the chat was slow that day, but you still expected your comment to be drowned out.

'oo she's pretty!! is she your gf or smth? ^o^'

his eyes skimmed over your comment, a grin lighting up upon his face. he leaned against his arms, licking his lips as he thought up a response.

"wouldn't you like to know?" he read over your name and you could feel your heart flutter. he stared into the camera with such intensity, playing with a strand of his hair with a small blush painting his cheeks. he cleared his throat.

"w-well i'd like her to be. you should ask her for me." he said. it was a small interaction, one you thought you'd never know the meaning behind, but you didn't know the truth behind his intentions.

[the1trueanon]

so what if the Gods of Light and Dark weren't just two separate beings? what if they once were One? what if something happened -- someones happened -- and the two halves were ripped apart?

what if the two halves of this previous God finally met again? what if they discovered (and rediscovered) themself as they had been before? what if they discovered what they are now, with and without each other? what if they fell in love?

what if the God of Darkness is dying from the leftover wound of their long-ago severance? Draining and bleeding away until there's nothing left of her, just as the God of Light found her again? what if they can't put the two halves of the former God back together again? what if, with the help of a certain Doctor, they have to figure out how to stabilize and rebuild the God of Darkness, the way the God of Light was by those who took his half so long ago?

what if they run out of time?

(please note that these ideas have like. little to no actual ties to the Doctor Who canon or story. this is 95% just stuff in my head. an alternate universe if you will. this whole thing might entirely clash with the OG storyline of Doctor Who and Lux Imperator and the Pantheon but tbh i don't actually care, i'm enjoying this story idea far too much :3)

[possessedpasm]

:3

[anbaisai]

Happy Chinese New Year! 🐍🧧

祝大家蛇年大吉，万事如意！

[yougavememyopia]

YOU WRITE CRYING MEN SO WELL ITS CRAZY ☹️🙏🙏 CAN WE PLS PLS PLS GET SMUT FOR CRYBABY!YANDERE OMG

Of course :) Pt.1. Pt.2.

Tags: oral (reader receiving), pillow humping, mommy kink (a bit obvious lol), poor communication

Yandere crybaby, who, despite all of his perverted fantasies, would be shy to take things further with you. You'd have to coax it out of him with gentle reassurance. Petting the top of his head, kissing his pouty lips, nibbling on his neck. Slowly drawing lewd whimpers and whines from him. Slowly making him rock hard for you.

But then, at the last frustrating second, where you start to take off his shirt, he'd stop you. Embarrassment with a mix of insecurity in his eyes. Choked up tears and weak excuses muttered from his lips making your heart flutter at the sight of his beet-redded face. Your fingers wiped his cheek, his lips planting kisses against your palm in return. Taking a few seconds to calm down his breathing, he bore his eyes into yours.

"We don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, honey."

Your kind words eased him. But he knew you were bound to get tired of him being a pathetic crying mess. Truth was, he was scared— afraid that you'll hate him if you saw what was underneath his clothes. Afraid that if he didn't satisfy you, you would surely get rid of him. Leave him all alone to rot. Be with someone who was far better than him.

He couldn't let that happen.

"No, hic... You need relief. I-I can do this! I don't want you to be unsatisfied... Hic! I don't want you to go to anyone else for this. I want you to only look at me. Love me. Only me."

He got down between your legs. Rubbing your knees as he gulped, swallowing the saliva that wanted to spill. He felt sweaty. His heart drummed against his ears as tears fell from his eyes.

"Are you sure?" You confirmed it with him one last time, unable to say no to his cute, innocent face. He sniffled as he nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to do this. Not only because he could finally taste you, but also to make himself useful. He wanted to be good for you. He craved your approval; he needed it to survive.

He felt nervous. He had no idea what to do when you hesitantly pulled down your underwear. Just staring at your private...

His pants already creamed just by the sight of your bare pussy. He bit his lip hard, hiding a whimper from the shock of pleasure traveling up his body. Blinking and blinking, the gears in his head turning.

Your brows furrowed in concern. "I don't think we should, um..."

You lost your train of thought when his shaky breaths fanned your mound. An unsure tongue licking the length of your sensitive front. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Already overwhelmed enough by all his other senses. Your familiar smell, your divine taste, your dripping flesh— all driving him crazier. The noise you made caused his stomach to churn.

He pulled away, rubbing his cheek to the soft plush of your thigh instead. "Mmgh, f-feels too good. I..." His hand covered a mewl. "I love you so much..."

"I love you too, baby. But it's not a big deal if you—"

You were cut off again, this time by a surge of good shock shooting through you. He delved in, started to eat you out like a starved man. Licking, sucking, nibbling. His hands grabbing your hips so he could push his tongue further into your hole. Sinful squelching noises filled the room. His nose pressing against your clit with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't holding back any longer, hiding his face between your thighs.

He slowly began to move his hips. His poor overstimulated cock rubbing against the couch. Aroused again with a fever. His whole body burned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he kept going. Movements only getting rougher and faster while you placed your hand on top of his head. Holding his head and bucking into his mouth, chasing release.

You had no idea he could be like this. His docile attitude replaced with something feral. He was moaning like he was in pain. Feeding on your juices to quench his thirst. His hips bumped against the furniture as if he wasn't capable of controlling it. Tears ruining his pretty face even more.

It was only a matter of time before you finished. Your back arching and your toes curling with a loud groan. "Ahhh... Fuck, fuck! Where did all that come from?"

"I-I just want you to be happy... Did I make you happy? Was I good? Are you gonna stay with me? You won't abandon me... right?!"

You sighed, a small smile forming on your face. He clearly had some things to work out. Always needing constant comfort; begging for you to own him, capture him, claim him as yours. He wished he could say the words without tearing up. Ask you to tie him down to your bed and just play with his hair.

He got comfortable with your body. Learning to use his slender fingers and even started to make eye contact when he kitten-licked your sensitive nub. Sobbing happy tears when you slowly stroked his hair. He felt enveloped by your love. Surrounded by you.

The liquid streamed down to his chin. Cries of joy vibrating against your heat while he worked harder to drive you to the edge. Half-lidded eyes staring up at yours as his fingers slid in and out of you rhythmically.

"Such a good boy, aren't you, hon? Yes. Yes, you are. You're my good boy. Ah, fuck, I'm gonna—"

Sometimes, the best way to help him calm down was to let him cuddle up to your chest. Sitting on your lap, head under your shirt— engulfed by your sweet sweet smell— lips moving around your breasts. Licking hot stripes around your areola, sucking on your nipple like a pacifier.

He'd start to get more greedy for your approval. Asking if he did a good job for a basic task, like folding his clothes and putting them away. Or if he was a good boy for not crying when you went to the bathroom. He was adorable— looking at you like a lost child, wanting for you to take care of him.

He couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. Pleading and pleading for you to stay when you wanted to hang out with your friends. You pecked his lips, "Be good, baby. I'll be back in 2 hours. Promise."

He whimpered when you pulled away from him. Yet obeying your words as he should. Plopping down to your shared bed to sniff your scent from the sheets. 2 hours, he could do that.

He started weep pathetically. The droplets soaking your blanket. He cried over far more stupid things than this. A crybaby. That was really all he was. He took your pillow, hugging it tightly as if it would disappear at any moment. His eyes closed shut. Whispering, "Haah... I wish you were hugging me... I wish you were here..."

He tried to be a good boy. Tried to keep himself in check. Tried oh-so hard to stop thinking about it. But eventually, the problem in his pants started to hurt. One of his trembling legs dropped over your pillow, while he found the rewarding angle that gave him the most friction. His hand sneaked into his pocket to grab a pair of hidden underwear, there in case of... emergencies.

You came back to your room to retrieve a forgotten item. Just at the right time— catching him grinding against your pillow mindlessly. Your underwear pressed tightly against his nose as he inhaled and exhaled a wail. Moaning louder and more high-pitched than you've ever heard.

"Nghh... m-mommy... Why...? Why did you have to— hic— leave your poor babyboy....?"

You grinned. The newfound information was a treasure. You always wondered if he was into that title. Too timid to talk to you about things like that. He was just adorable. You could hear how close he was when his voice shook. When he chanted your name as if it would ease the pain. Brows crumpled, and sweat rolled down the skin of his forehead.

"Mommy..." His tongue darted out to lick the heavenly taste off the fabric of your panties. His hips rutted to the pillow until a sad, unsatisfying orgasm hit him. He cried miserably. Nose stuffed while he breathed out whimpers. Drool mixed with other liquids pooled down to splatter the pillow. An unusual angry huff coming from his lips. "Why aren't you here?!? Whywhywhywhy!"

Only if he had opened his eyes.

[devotion-disorder]

he's just a bit taller than most :( i promise he's nice!!

i also sorta forgot he's kinda fucking massive LOL

[bunnis-monsters]

Hello!

Not a request but do you have any thoughts on peacock hybrids?

Male peacock hybrid spreading out his feathers to impress you. He’s very snobby and thinks you’ll fall to your knees and just BEG to mate with him after seeing how pretty his feathers are.

But you’re not a peacock hybrid. You couldn’t care less about how pretty his feathers are, he has been a royal cunt the entire time you’ve known him.

So now he’s scrambling, utterly confused and heartbroken that you’ve rejected him. He cries himself to sleep that night, completely insecure over his feathers.

“You’re an asshole.”

That was your answer when he asked why you rejected him the next day. He had come into your bakery with his eyes all puffy and red from crying, his feathers drooping.

“You come in here every day, order the same complicated thing, act rude to my staff, and never think to say thank you. That, and you’re snobby. I’m not your servant, why should I have to spread the cream cheese on YOUR bagel!?”

He was utterly stunned. In the past, he’d rejected many females who swooned over his beautiful feathers. He had fallen head over heels for you… yet you felt nothing for him.

It was the first time he ever really got called out for how he behaved.

Perhaps it’s time to take a look inward for once… and he’s not sure why, but imagining finally getting to have you as all his… makes his pants tight.

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[retquits]

hi monroe hi 👋🏼👋🏼

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

If you’re still taking ideas for tonight 🫶🏻 maybe H and y/n going on their first walk as a family - either baby in the carrier on Harry’s chest or y/n pushing the pram, all wrapped up warm on a winter walk then going to meet Anne for a coffee so baby could have nanna cuddles 🥰

Spring Walks.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!!

in which, it’s your’s and harry’s first walk as a family of four, and even though it’s spring, the weathers very chilly and your little one is in the pram whilst your four year old is sat on his daddy’s shoulders.

word count - 1k.

It’s just past ten on a chilly spring morning, the kind where the sky is washed in soft blue and the clouds seem like afterthoughts. The forest trail beneath your feet is damp from last night’s rain, but it smells incredible—earthy, fresh, and full of that green-sap scent that only comes with early leaves.

You wrap your coat tighter around you and glance down into the pram. Your daughter is sleeping soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling under the knit blanket Anne gave you just before she was born. Her face is impossibly small, features still undefined in that newborn way—more like a dream than a person just yet.

“S’out cold,” Harry says, leaning over your shoulder to peek in at her. “Like her mum, snoring by nine.”

You laugh quietly, nudging him. “I do not snore.”

“Y’do a little puff. Like a baby hedgehog.” He makes a tiny snuffling sound and then grins, proud of himself.

“You are so lucky I’m sleep-deprived and too tired to argue.”

He chuckles and shifts his grip on your four-year-old son, who is perched high up on his shoulders, little wellies bouncing lightly against Harry’s chest with each step. His tiny hands are tangled in Harry’s curls, his cheeks rosy and wind-bitten.

“Daddy, look!” your son shouts, pointing toward a squirrel sprinting up a tree. “He’s got something in his mouth! Is it a sandwich?”

Harry squints. “Looks like a bit of leaf or something, buddy. Probably not a sandwich. Squirrels don’t have lunchboxes.”

“They should,” your son decides seriously. “We could give them some snacks.”

You join in, “That’s how you make forest friends, you know. You leave them tiny peanut butter sandwiches, and they send thank-you notes made of twigs.”

“Really?” He gasps, eyes wide.

Harry laughs, “Well, sort of. But you’ve got to be very, very quiet so you don’t scare them.”

Your son nods solemnly and immediately whispers, “Okay.” Then, a second later: “BUT IF I SEE A FOX I’M GONNA SCREAM!.”

You and Harry both burst into quiet laughter, trying not to wake the baby.

You fall into step beside him, the gravel crunching underfoot. The path is scattered with fallen blossoms from some early-flowering tree, pink petals caught in puddles and clinging to your boots.

“Can you believe we’re here?” you say softly. “Family of four. Two whole kids.”

Harry exhales, long and warm, like he’s been holding that feeling in his chest and is only just letting it out. “I know. Feels unreal. Like we blinked and suddenly… we’re outnumbered.”

You laugh. “You’re the one who wanted more chaos.”

“I did,” he admits, smiling. “And I’d do it all again. Every nappy, every midnight bottle, every ‘I want juice’ at four in the morning.”

You glance at him with a smirk. “That last one was you.”

He shrugs. “What can I say? Apple juice tastes better at night.”

A soft wind stirs the leaves around you. You adjust the pram handle, and Harry watches you for a moment before speaking again.

“Y’amazing, you know,” he says quietly. “Like. I watch you with them, and I think—how did I get so lucky?”

You look over at him, touched. “You were charming. And tall. That helped.”

“That’s it then?” he laughs. “Tall and charming?”

You lean into him a little, shoulder brushing his. “And you make a very good climbing frame.”

From above, your son yells, “I’m a tree-climber! I’m on top of Daddy Mountain!”

“Hold on, little explorer,” Harry says, pretending to wobble. “Daddy Mountain’s feeling an earthquake in his back.”

“Don’t fall, Daddy! I’m too small to raise a baby!”

That has you both laughing so hard you have to stop for a moment. You reach up and steady your son’s leg while you catch your breath.

The trail starts to widen, and ahead you can see glimpses of the high street through the thinning trees. The edge of town greets you with the smell of fresh bread from the bakery and a faint bell from someone opening a shop door.

Harry glances over. “Mum said she got us the corner table outside. Figured we’d want space for the pram.”

You nod, grateful. “She always thinks of everything.”

“She’s been dying to show off the baby,” he adds. “I think she’s printed pictures for strangers on the bus.”

“She’s so excited to have another granddaughter, she’s got so many plans already.” Harry adds. “For both of them.”

You smirk. “Like what?”

“She wants to take her first grandbaby to the petting zoo, just them two. And she said we should have a nap together while she watches the baby.”

You blink, surprised. “A nap together? Like… sleep?”

“I know,” Harry teases, “remember that?”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth in your chest bloom. You’d give anything for just one afternoon of that quiet kind of closeness again. But for now, this walk—this moment—is enough.

As you turn onto the main road, your son gasps. “There’s Nana! I see her!”

Anne is already waving from her spot at the café, wearing a scarf you bought her last Christmas and holding a takeaway cup in one hand. When she sees you, her whole face lights up. She stands before you even reach her, arms out.

Harry gently lifts your son off his shoulders, setting him down. “Go on then, give Nana a cuddle.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice—he races ahead, nearly colliding with her in a hug. Anne laughs and scoops him up effortlessly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Then she turns to you, eyes misty.

“There’s my girl,” she says, kissing your cheek, then leaning over the pram. “And there’s my littlest love. Oh, she’s perfect.”

Harry wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into him. “We made some good ones, didn’t we?”

You lean into him, smile tugging at your lips as you watch your family. “We really did.”

Anne looks up. “Well, I’ve ordered you both tea, and I got extra pastries because you’re both barely eating anything proper—”

“We eat!” you protest.

“You nibble. Like nervous mice,” she says, waving her hand. “Now sit. Warm up. I’ll cuddle this one in a minute.”

[queenie-the-court-jester]

cotton and the magic vagina

for my beloved 🐁 anon 💋

🐰cotton got a 9 incher I kid you not. He may be 4'9, but that monster in between his legs needs to be taken care of every half hour or else you'll have a needy bunny humping your thighs

🐰he wants lots of kids. So he'll try to make as many as possible without thinking of how to provide for them. About half of each litter makes it through infancy, the rest dying in their sleep. It makes you sad whenever you see the little graveyard you made in the backyard

🐰 he's a good father but it's hard teaching him not to fuck you Infront of the kids. Have some decency young man. You're completely appalled when he said his parent's use to do the same Infront of him and his siblings.

🐰the only clothing he doesn't immediately take off is his underwear, saying he likes the way it rubs against his dick. Weirdo.

🐰some days you can't even walk properly with how often he demands sex. He's not a one pump chump, going atleast 4 rounds before he lets you go back to work

🐰don't let him catch you lactating, he'll go ape shit begging to drink some of it. He'll sometimes get jealous of his own kids when he sees them get more attention. Immature brat.

Silly doodle ↓