#Light is protective of all his kiddos

[mergedau]

GUN does exist in this universe. The Lights have a sort of..... casual business relationship with GUN. Especially after Wily's first attempt.

That doesn't stop Light from slamming any doors in their face when SA2 happens because no one is going to blame his son for that nonsense.

[strang3lov3]

Safety First

While camping, Joel insists on thoroughly checking you for ticks. Safety first, after all. (6.5k)

Tags - smut, dbf!joel (there was no use fighting it for this one) forced proximity, tick checks but it’s just a precaution I promise there’s no ticks involved, enemies to lovers vibes, fingering, oral (f!receiving), edging, unprotected piv, creampie, finger sucking, come eating, implied age gap, reader is description-less apart from one freckle on her buttcheek and also has pubic hair, mild mild dubcon. Fic help - @endlessthxxghts , @beefrobeefcal @noxturnalpascal thank you for helping me get this together 🩷 A/N - This has been sitting for way too long in the drafts and it does feel a little scary to post but the only way out is through ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m working up a pt. 2 to On Display as well as some more stepdaddy roman and some other things <3 thank you for sticking around

enjoy, my fellow freaks <3

You’re not an outdoors person. At all. You hate bugs, you hate being at the mercy of mother earth and whichever type of weather she chooses at any given moment. You hate when it’s too windy, when it’s too cold, when it’s too sunny and hot and you’re sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable. You hate the mess of it all; the mud and the dirt, walking on uneven terrain, taking careful steps so as not to brush up against poison ivy. Not to mention how with each change of the season comes another allergen, whether it be pollen or ragweed or grass. Fucking grass. The earth is covered in it, and there’s no escape. 

Except for the great indoors. Temperature controlled, a simple push of a button makes the air warmer or colder at your will. A flick of a switch makes a room light or dark. Walls protect you from insects and the rain and the harsh rays of the sun. It’s a beautiful thing, and exactly where you’re gonna stay tonight. If only you could get the television to cooperate…

“Would you quit toyin’ with the electronics? You got TV outside. Go see if you can spot a raccoon or somethin’. Thought you loved those critters.” 

You roll your eyes. You were expecting that type of comment to be made by Joel at some point or another. He’s the exact opposite of you, he is an outdoors person. He loves it all - fishing, hiking, golfing. Exposing himself to the elements. 

“I’m not going outside.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m not a nature person,” you tell him plainly. 

Joel scoffs, “God, you’re a diva. And your dad is too, for havin’ a fuckin’ camper like this. And when he gets back, you can tell him Joel said so.” He looks around himself, judging the pristine interior of your dad’s RV. Glamping. That’s what this is. It’s not real camping, not when you’ve got an oven and air conditioning and a bathroom with a shower. The point of camping is to get away from this sort of life, to reconnect with nature. “You too high-society for a tent or somethin’?” 

You turn around to look at Joel, your brows knit in faux-concern. “Wait - Joel, do you hear that?” 

“Hear what, darlin’?” Joel searches for the out of place noise you’re asking about. “I don’t hear anything.”

“It sounds like…” you hum, really putting on an act. “Sounds like this thing called air conditioning. I think it’s after your time, but it’s really neat - when it’s hot outside –”  

Joel interrupts, “Real nice, fuckin’ smartass.” He fights hard to bite down on his smile, to not give you the satisfaction of making him laugh with that zinger. “After my time,” he sneers. “You’re testin’ me. Now c’mon outside with me, let’s get a fire started.” 

“No.” 

“Do it for me,” Joel pleads. “Pretend you like me. Just for tonight, kiddo.” He wears his most charming smile and it shouldn’t work, but it does. 

“Fine,” you concede. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it so you get off my ass.” 

“Atta girl,” Joel stands up from where he sat on the couch, groaning as he stretches. You catch yourself peeking at his tummy, admiring that trail of dark hairs that travel below his belly button and beneath his pants. God, an asshole like Joel does not deserve to look as fucking handsome as he does. Thick arms and thighs, soft tummy. Sparkling chocolate eyes, a sharp aquiline nose. Gentle curls, all dark but painted with streaks of gray. And you, you have absolutely no business being so infatuated with him. 

Joel’s your father’s best friend, and a piece of shit. He’s condescending, arrogant, brash. Your dad always said Joel had a sweet spot for you, but you’re sure that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Joel taught you how to drive a stick shift, which ended with you in tears with the car stalled at the bottom of a hill. He also used to help you with your geometry homework, insistently reminding you that geometry was in fact, not useless. That he uses geometry every day of his life working in construction. Those nights at his kitchen table always ended with you and he at each other’s throats, arguing over the right answers. It didn’t last forever, though. Joel ended up moving a couple hours away, and you grew up. You found yourself missing him on occasion. As much of a dick as he was, he was still an important figure in your life. He offered you advice, let you cry on his shoulder after your first breakup, picked you up from parties you weren’t supposed to be at, no questions asked. Nevertheless, he’s still an ass. He was then, and he is now.

Actually, he’s not even supposed to be here with you right now. This was supposed to be a weekend camping trip with just you and your father, but as your dad was getting the RV in order he received a call from his next-door neighbor. Water was pouring out from his front door, which meant the entire main floor had flooded. You weren’t around for this call, however, as your dad had tasked you with hiking down to the nearby camp store to pick up some ice and some matches. Your dad left a note explaining what had happened and that his theory is that one of his idiot dogs must have turned on a sink or something. He said he was sorry for leaving, and that his old buddy Joel - you remember Joel, don’t you? - lives close by and would stop by with some dinner for you. 

Your heart raced when you read the note. It had been years since you’d last seen Joel, years since he last saw you. You knew nothing of what to expect, if he’d drop the food off and go or if he’d stick around. Your question was quickly answered when Joel pulled up in his truck, a large Aurelio’s pizza in his hands and an overstuffed backpack on his shoulder.  He tapped urgently on the camper door, “Open the door for me, would ya? Pizza’s fuckin’ hot.” 

You let Joel in wordlessly. He placed the pizza on the table, then looked for a spot to put his belongings down. “Hope you don’t mind, hon, but your dad called again and asked that I stay the night. He’s not gonna be back in time and doesn’t wanna leave ya out in the woods on your own.” 

“That’s fine,” you answered. It was quiet then, as you took in Joel and he did the same to you. He’s older now, and so are you. You felt yourself becoming shy as he scanned you up and down. Joel sensed your uncomfortability and cleared his throat, then helped himself to a slice of pizza. “Eat up,” he told you. 

That was hours ago. Early evening, maybe. The awkwardness had worn off as you shared the pizza, and you were back to bickering in no time. And now here you are, out in the trees collecting kindling for a fire. Joel’s closer to the camper, using your dad’s hatchet to chop up some firewood. “Don’t wander too far,” he calls after you. “S’gettin’ dark.” 

You roll your eyes. Like you’d ever go willingly further into the trees. You collect sticks, listening to the sounds of nature. Crickets, an animal rustling in the leaves. If there weren’t mosquitos biting your legs right now, you’d almost enjoy this. Almost. 

When you feel you’ve collected a sufficient amount of sticks, you bring it back to Joel at the campsite. Joel inspects your pile, “Looks good t’me,” he says. “Why don’t you go look for some s’mores stuff inside, I’ll get the fire started.”

You go back into the camper and browse the pantry, finding some two months expired Jet-Puffed marshmallows and some graham crackers. No chocolate, though. You opt instead for some Keebler fudge stripe cookies you packed instead and bring the ingredients out to Joel. “No chocolate,” you tell him. “Does this work?”

“Oh, s’perfect. Changes the game, actually,” he says excitedly, his eyebrows perking in excitement. “You’re a genius.” 

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. Joel sits down in one of the camping chairs, you sit at the one next to him. He finds the campfire skewers resting against the side of the RV and cleans them off in the growing fire he’s started in the firepit, then puts two marshmallows on one end, twirling them over the flame. “How toasty would you like your marshmallow, darlin’?”

“Barely,” you answer. “Like, don’t let it touch the flame.” 

“That’s asinine,” Joel replies. “Gotta give it more color than that. ‘Sposed to be on fire.” 

“No, thank you. That’s disgusting. Just golden brown, please.” 

“Golden brown. I can work with golden brown,” Joel says. He holds the marshmallow over the flame, careful not to let it touch, just like you asked. A small movement across his hand captures his attention, though. “What the…”

“What is it, Joel?”

“It’s…” Joel studies his hand, his attention now focused on a little bug crawling across it. The marshmallows on the skewer become entirely burnt, melting into the firepit as Joel tries to identify the bug. “Oh, fuck.” 

“What?”

Joel sets down the skewers and carefully shows you the bug on his hand. Teeny tiny, almond shaped, eight legs. “That’s a fuckin’ tick. He’s lookin for a place to burrow.” 

You make a repulsed face as Joel flicks the parasite into the fire. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ bastard. Must’ve fallen on me when we were collectin’ wood. God bless it,” he groans. “Inside. We need to check for more.” 

You pout. “Really?”

“Really,” Joel answers. “Try not to look so excited. It’s only a couple ‘a minutes. We’ll make new s’mores when we’re done.”

You get out of your chair and Joel holds the camper door open for you, letting you inside first. He follows suit, only after dumping some water on the fire. He’s got enough dry wood to start a new one when you come back out there. You sit on the couch and Joel joins you, then pulls off his t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, using his fingers to search for anything that feels like it’s not supposed to be there. He turns away from you, “Check my neck and back for me, first,” he says. “Please.” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Joel’s half naked in front of you, and you’re tasked with searching his body. Every goddamn inch. It’s going to be fucking torture. “Okay,” you breathe.

You hesitantly reach for his shoulders and pull them back slightly to urge him to sit up straighter, then push his curls away from his neck. Joel shivers slightly with your touch. You inspect the nape of his neck, then one shoulder, then the other. He’s so fucking broad, his shoulders miles wide. Joel senses your timidity as you gingerly touch him, “Need somethin’ from me? Want me to lean forward a little?”

“Uhm…yeah - yes,” you whisper. 

Joel leans forward to allow you to search the expanse of his back for any ticks. Thankfully, you’re coming up empty. Just all of Joel’s tan, smooth skin, all for you to touch and examine under the warm glow of the lights. You find yourself mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of his torso with every breath he takes, the silvery stretch marks by his hips. His skin is so warm under the palms of your hands, all you can think about is touching, feeling, scratching him. His voice interrupts you from your thoughts, “You done?”

“Mhm.” 

Joel sits up and turns in your direction. “Front side, now,” he says. He’s looking right at you as you search his chest, just in case you see something he can’t. He holds out his arms one at a time for you to inspect and turn over, then raises them for you to check his underarms. When you’re finished, Joel stands up and unbuckles his belt. You swallow thickly. 

“I know. M’not thrilled either, hon, but they do like to hide in the more…private areas of the body.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Joel says. “Oh.” 

You avert your eyes as he pulls off both his jeans and boxers, covering his member with his two hands. “I can do my…you don’t have to check that out. But –”

“Your ass.” 

“My ass,” Joel sighs. “And legs. ‘Specially the back of ‘em, where I can’t see.” 

“Got it.” 

This couldn’t be more…god. Joel’s awkwardly covering himself with two hands, his head tilted back and looking at the ceiling. He turns around for you to check his backside and luckily there’s nothing, just his plump ass. If you were a better woman, you wouldn’t be thinking of squeezing it right now. Fuck. He’s so hot like this, completely nude and on display for you. His legs are so long and muscular, his tummy is soft and pillowy. 

You’re so quiet. God, Joel feels terrible for putting you through this. You must be so uncomfortable, but ticks are not worth rolling the dice on. Disgusting parasites. He decides to break the tension. “You remember my brother Tommy, don’tcha?”

Tommy. Younger than Joel, just as handsome. You didn’t see him as much as you saw Joel growing up, but you know him. “Yeah, sure. I remember Tommy.”

“Right. Well, Tommy knows all about ticks in places they ain’t ‘sposed to be.” 

“Oh?”

Joel turns around for you to check his thighs, then the front of his legs. “Mhm,” he says. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything. He’d kill me for tellin’ ya.”

“No, no - tell me.” 

“Keep it to yourself. Don’t let him know I told ya,” Joel warns, then clears his throat before speaking. “Well,” Joel begins, “It’s Tommy’s senior year of high school right after graduation. His class goes campin’, right? Tommy meets up with a girl, things start to heat up.” 

“Right.”

“Right. You know where this is goin’. Clothes are comin’ off, they’re gettin’ handsy. And this girl feels somethin’ she ain’t supposed to on his uh…on his member.”

You gasp, “No.” 

“Tommy pulls out his flashlight and lo and behold…”

“Tick on his dick.”

“Tick on his dick,” Joel confirms. “Fully buried, and all full of blood. I don’t even know how he was able to get it up, truth be told.” 

“You’re joking. Joel, that’s fucking disgusting. Tell me you’re joking.” 

Joel looks down at you, his lips pressed together as he tries to stifle his laughter and shakes his head. In between gasps and giggles, Joel explains, “He made the poor girl drive him to the ER cause he was a faintin’ mess. I met ‘em both there. I was there when Tommy was explainin’ it all to the nurse, this little old lady. And she said somethin’ about his dick bein’ ribbed for her pleasure or somethin’ like that, fuckin’ riot of a woman. Oh god, I’d never seen him so red in my life,” he wipes a stray tear of laughter from his eye, then goes right back to laughing. 

You’re giggling with Joel. The way he tells the story, like he’s right back in the ER with Tommy tells you he’s being truthful. His eyes crinkle as he laughs.

“So then what happened?” 

“Well, Tommy ended up alright,” Joel says. “Poor girl never spoke to him again, though. Didn’t take long for rumors to start spreadin’, his friends all called him ‘Tommy Tick Dick’. He enlisted in the army shortly after that.” 

“Oh, did he?” 

“He was a real patriot, and there was nothin’ else to it,” Joel exaggerates the sentence as if he’s mocking Tommy. “Or so he says,” he adds. 

“So he says.” 

By the time Joel’s finished the story, you’re long done with his tick check. He puts on his boxer shorts and sits on the couch next to you, both of you still chuckling. “Alright, your turn.” 

“What do you mean, my turn?” 

“You were in the woods too, right? And longer than I was. You’re at more of a risk. I need’a check you, now.” 

“Oh, no thank you.” 

It’s not that you don’t trust Joel or anything like that. But Joel doesn’t need to know how turned on you are just from seeing and feeling his naked body. It’d be so obvious - he’d see your hard nipples and your arousal-soaked panties. And it’d only worsen as he touches you, his warm, masculine hands traveling over your body as he carefully searches every inch of your skin. On no planet would you expect him to be a gentleman about it, either. You know he’d tease you in one way or another, get some sort of sick satisfaction out of knowing how you really feel about him, deep down inside. 

“Yeah, nice try,” he says. “You got two choices: you can let me check ya for ticks now while it’s still easy, or you can wait until one’s buried in your skin and suckin’ your blood. I’d suggest the former.” 

He makes a compelling argument. “Former,” you agree, no questions about it. You can’t stand when a fly lands on you, or when an ant crawls across your foot. The thought of a tick in your…you’re not even going there. You’re gonna puke. 

“I’ll make it quick,” Joel assures. “Promise ya.”

Joel helps you to undress. He holds the sleeves of your hoodie as you pull your arms out of them, then pulls the garment off of you entirely, leaving you in just your bra. “Ready?” he asks, gently toying with the strap. 

“Mhm.” 

His fingers feel like pure electricity as they skate along your skin, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to your lap. Instinctually, you cover your chest and turn away from him to allow him to check your skin. Just like you did to him, he checks your neck and shoulders first, his warm breaths fanning over you. His hands travel down your spine as he pushes you down, exposing more of your body for him to search. He traces over every mark, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he does. “You’re good. Come and face me, now,” he whispers. “Won’t bite ya.” 

You turn your body in Joel’s direction, still covering yourself. He holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, turning your head back and to the side so he can check your throat, and then your collarbones. Joel reaches for your wrist and pulls it toward his body, stretching your arm out for him to turn over and inspect. He does the same with your other arm, patient as you adjust the way you cover yourself. His eyes widen slightly when you accidentally expose yourself, but you don’t seem to notice your mistake. 

“Stand up for me, now. Lemme check the rest.” 

He looks at the wall as you shimmy off your shorts, but leave your panties on. Fuck, you can feel how wet you are, that little awful mess between your thighs. You stand in front of him, arms still crossed over your chest. “Gimme a leg,” Joel murmurs, and you lift one leg and he sets your foot on the couch next to his thigh. He keeps one hand on your hip, holding you steady as he scans your thigh, turning your leg to the side so he can check your calves. He helps you back to two feet, then repeats the process with your other leg. “Good. Almost done, kiddo. You’re doin’ fine.” 

You turn around for him to check your backside, make sure nothing’s hanging out where it’s not supposed to be. “Just gonna move this to the side…” Joel says, carefully pulling the elastic of your panties out of the way. His fingers grace over the swell of your ass, as he quickly checks one side, then does the same thing to the other side. “Wait a sec–”

Your heart stops. “What?”

“Oh, you have got to be shittin’ me.” 

“Joel–”

“Get on the couch and lay on your stomach. Hurry, do it now.” 

You lay on your stomach on the couch, Joel picks up both of your legs and pulls your body until your ass is right on his lap. “Sorry, kiddo. Just bein’ thorough, here.” Your heart pounds as he moves your panties to the side and gingerly prods at an area on your ass cheek, right where it meets your thigh. Just millimeters away from where you need him most, where you’re dripping for him…

“Oh, thank Christ. False alarm. Just a freckle or birthmark or somethin’ back here,” Joel sighs in relief. But for you, relief never comes. Joel’s hand stays on your ass, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your skin. With each pass, he’s getting closer to your pussy, but still achingly far from it. “You’re clean.” 

“O-oh.”

Joel hears the uncertainty in your tone. “You alright there, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you answer. 

“You can put your clothes back on now.” 

Joel waits. It’s as if he said nothing at all, the way you ignore his suggestion. He finds it a little interesting that you won’t move, how you seem cozy on his lap. And in fact, you’re sighing, sort of inching your way closer to him. 

“Hon?”

“Hmm?”

“You gonna get dressed with me?”

“Mhm.”  

You’ve lost all subtlety. Joel notices that you’re arching your back, sort of rocking yourself on him. Trying to nudge his fingers just a little lower. You’re successful, and Joel feels the damp cotton of your panties on the tips of his fingertips and realizes, “Ohh. I get it,” he mumbles, chuckling. “You’re not bein’ subtle, you know.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you lie. The first words out of your mouth that aren’t a lazy, quiet moan or hum of pleasure.

“Neither am I.”

Joel had an inkling that something like this was going on with you. He saw how your eyes wandered over his body, how your pupils went wide at the sight of his body. He could practically hear the thoughts in your brain, but he bit his tongue. Maybe he was wrong, maybe you were just nervous. It’d make sense. But he’d bit his tongue before, when all those years ago he helped maneuver your belongings in his truck to your college dorm. You fell asleep in the passenger seat next to him, your sleepy breaths turned to quiet whimpers of his name in your sleep as you squeezed your thighs together. Joel never mentioned it to you, wanting to protect you from the embarrassment. But he heard his name clear as day. 

He wonders how much longer you’ll keep this up for, writhing on his lap, never asking him for what you want. Joel knows exactly why, too. You’ve got some sort of reputation to uphold, you can never give him the satisfaction of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you like him. Even if it’s just sexual, born out of nothing but need for pleasure - pure, stupid pleasure. 

“You can just ask f’ya want somethin’ from me,” Joel encourages. “S’all you gotta do.”  To Joel’s amusement, you stay quiet. You’re really not doing yourself any sort of favors. “Not gonna?”

“No.” 

“Ah, she speaks. So you’re not gonna ask for nothin’, not gonna tell me what you want?” Joel moves your panties to the side and rests his fingers against your center, all hot and dripping with need. “C’mon, now.”

You’re fighting against yourself. You know this, know that if you so much as lean into his touch a little more than you should that technically, you’re compliant - you’re docile, you’re willing. You’ll lose the game - a game where your only opponent is yourself, yet Joel wins all the same. 

“Got no good reason to be stubborn about this,” he purrs. He slides both hands over the swell of your ass and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, then pulls them down your thighs and off your legs. He parts your legs and cups your mound, toying with the hair there before dipping his fingers between your lips, humming in delight when he feels the considerable pool of arousal at your core. You’re fucking soaked, and despite this, you still won’t say a word. You just whimper and wiggle against him. “F’ya don’t ask, you don’t receive. You wanna keep makin’ things difficult for yourself?”

It’s a warning, but he’s giving you an out. You prop yourself up on your elbows, then turn your head and look over your shoulders at Joel. He searches your face and waits for you to speak, but you don’t. Of course you don’t, because you’re hellbent on giving Joel any shred of pride about this, the fact he’s got you in his lap and melting under your touch. It’s all futile, though. He can see it on your face, your wide eyes and your open mouth, practically salivating as you watch him stroke your folds gently, so gently. Joel smiles, unashamed of the pleasure he’s getting out of this.  

“You know what’d happen if you used your words? F’ya told me that ya want me?”

“What?” 

“Well,” Joel says, dipping two fingers into your slick entrance. He pushes them in slowly, letting you feel the way his knuckles stretch your pussy. He pulls them out almost all the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, then pushes back in. He continues, “I’d give you the lovin’ I know you need. Make you come however you’d like, however much you’d like. Would that be so terrible?” 

You whimper as he begins to curl his fingers, “Joel.” 

“I know you’re tempted, sweetheart. It’s yours if you want it.” 

Last chance. He’d make good on his promise, you can see it in his eyes, all dark with lust and wide with excitement. You can feel it in his touch, the intent to bring you nothing but pleasure evident in how he strokes you. But maybe you don’t need to be loved right now, maybe you’d prefer to be used. To feel him indulge himself in your cunt, feel his selfishness in the way he fucks you, and never allow him the satisfaction of making you come. You win the game this way.  

“Other option is, we do things my way. Couldn’t quite tell you yet exactly what that entails, though…so weigh your risk and reward carefully.” Joel warns. “Last call, darlin’. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Joel waits for you to object, but you never do. Game restarted, ignited by the way you settle in his lap, your silent way of telling him your body is for him to use as he pleases. “Alright, then. My way it is.” 

Joel curls his fingers rhythmically in your cunt, brushing against that sweet spot inside of you. He groans, loving those slick, wet noises your cunt makes for him as he admires your body laid out on his lap, all of that soft, smooth skin of yours is just for him. You squirm as he touches you, biting down on your moans and letting him only hear quiet sighs of pleasure. 

As quickly as it begins, it’s over. Joel pulls his fingers from you and you whine in disappointment. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Joel asks, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, just–” 

Joel wraps both of his big, masculine hands over your waist and pushes you further up the seat of the couch so that you’re not laid across his lap any longer. He kneels behind you and looks around for something - pillow, clothes, blanket - he tugs on a removable couch cushion and you look over your shoulder in curiosity. 

“Then don’t you worry about what I’m doin’ back here,” he says. “Eyes forward.” 

You turn back around, excitement bubbling in your lower stomach. Joel taps your hip, “Lift up for me, kiddo,” he urges, and you lift your hips. He slides a pillow under them, propping your ass up for him. He lays on his tummy, and it’s a rather tight fit on the couch of the camper but he doesn’t mind. 

Joel nudges your thighs apart a little and harshly squeezes the flesh of your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart, finally getting a picture-perfect view of your cunt, all glistening with ribbons of your creamy arousal. He can see the muscles twitch, your hole puckering as you await his touch. “You made a mess,” he murmurs, sliding the pad of his thumb through your slick folds. He collects your arousal on his fingertips and lunges forward, his body covering yours and brings those fingers to your lips and pushes them into your mouth. You can feel his hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, Joel grinding himself against your ass as you suck his fingers clean, you hum at the taste. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and gets right back into position, his knees cracking as he does, spreading you out again so that he can bury his face in your pussy. He does exactly that, pressing a kiss to your slick, warm center, dragging his tongue up higher until he reaches your asshole. You gasp when Joel spits on it and circles the muscle with his tongue, fuck, he really is doing things his way. He rounds your tight hole, all wet and sloppy before he dips his tongue inside, causing you to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation. He finishes the job with a couple of kisses there, kisses that travel lower and lower until he reaches your pussy once again. 

The little sigh of relief you breathe out when Joel’s lips reach the area you need him most is not lost on him, and he smirks against you. He kisses your pussy, loving the way your slick, soft cunt feels against his lips, against his face. Joel inhales you, the scent of your sweet arousal. He hopes that later, he’ll smell your essence on his mustache and be reminded of this moment here with you, and he’ll be hard all over again. He’ll stroke his cock and think of your cunt, groaning your name as he spills into his own hand. But for now, he focuses on you. 

He uses a pointed tongue to trace along the length of your folds, up and down, up and down until his it rests against your slick hole. He dips inside and tastes your honeyed arousal, he finds your heady, musky flavor so addicting. He could spend forever here, that perfect, warm, private space between your thighs. 

Joel finds himself torn between wanting to eat you the way he should and the way he wants to. He vacillates between savoring you, loving your soft, wet cunt and the way he can make you grind on his face, even if it’s just slightly, and devouring you whole, sucking your sensitive bud to make your legs shake and causing you to pull away from him - he knows it’s too much too fast. Joel settles on the latter of the two manners. His tongue laving over your pussy, lips wrapped around your clit is not something he does for you, but to you. It’s all for him, after all. There’s passion and determination, and he means to love you, please you. But it devolves, it’s all aggression, fingernails digging into your flesh and bruising you almost like he could strip your bones of it. 

He’s getting ahead of himself. If his scruff were shorter, he’d be rubbing you raw, and you almost wish he could. Joel wishes to smell and taste you later, you yearn to feel him on your skin just the same. You’d feel your tender inner thighs ache when you sit down and when you shower, the lather of your soap making your skin burn. You’d remember the weight of his hands holding your ass in place, the pressure of his tongue lapping your folds. You reach behind yourself, searching for something, any part of him to hold onto. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at those graying curls as you bite into the flesh of your own thumb. 

“J- fuck, oh my god.” 

You’re moaning, unable to help yourself. Getting close, you attempt to pull away from Joel, seeking to limit your own pleasure so as not to come on his tongue. 

“Don’t you run from me,” Joel mumbles, pulling you right back in. He keeps you held still, so secure in his grip that you can’t writhe and squirm away from or toward him. “You’re gonna take it,” he tells you. You’re gonna feel his sharp, big nose tease your ass, feel his tongue lapping at your sensitive clit. Joel eats you like he’s starved and you’re the first meal he’s seen in days, steaming hot and ready for him to sink his teeth into. 

You’re seeing stars. It takes all the mental focus you have not to come on his tongue, not to give him that reward. Joel finds it all amusing, you won’t even let yourself moan. He can hear that you’re trying to, but you’re swallowing your own noises and whimpering into your skin. Your thighs twitch with your impending release, and Joel tries his hardest to push you over the edge. But Joel’s only a man, and when his jaw and his tongue begin to tire he relents, pulling away from your body only in minor defeat. “You might’a won the battle,” he says, biting your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. “But you’re losin’ the war. I ain’t finished with you yet.” 

Joel kneels behind you, then spreads your thighs apart with one of his knees. “Nice an’ wide,” he instructs. He groans as he pushes the waistband of his boxers down his thighs, his leaking and rock hard cock springing free. He spits in his hand and pumps it a couple times, coating his member in his own saliva before he leans lower, lower, until the blunt head of his cock is nudging against your core. One of his arms is bent and hovering near your head as notches himself inside you, then pulls out, only to push himself back in slightly. He chuckles when you squirm, arching your back in attempt to take more than what he’s giving you. “Easy, easy,” he purrs. “You’re hellbent against comin’ for me anyway, so what’s with the rushin’?”

“Joel,” you whine. 

“Oh, I know…” Joel groans as he buries himself into you fully, that slow, slide inside your body has him biting his lower lip. You’re so tight, and Joel knows you’re loving that ache, that stretch and burn of his thick cock splitting you open. “Got you figured out, you know. I know why you’re doin’ this,” he grunts, pulling out of you all the way. He pushes back inside you, “You think you’re provin’ a point.” 

“Joel, I’m -”

“You don’t have to like me, sweetheart, but I know you like how I make ya feel. It’s allowed, baby. This don’t have to mean nothin’ else.” 

You don’t answer him. Not that you could, anyway. He’s building a steady pace, fucking you so deeply and so intentional. His motions are fluid, his cock hitting you in all the right places. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his warm body moving against yours, and you’re losing yourself in him, moaning and babbling nonsense. You reach for his hand in front of you and bring it to your mouth, then suck and nibble on two of his thick fingers. Fuck, you can taste yourself on his skin. 

Joel likes this, the feeling of your lips and tongue and teeth on his fingers. He knows you’re trying to pacify yourself, quiet your noises as if by doing so, you could push away the pleasure building deep inside you. The attempt only serves to egg him on, fuck you harder, faster. He slides a hand under your tummy and his fingers find your clit, the weight of his body on yours and the pillow under your abdomen aids him to achieve a perfect angle to stimulate and massage your sensitive bud. “Oh, there it is. You’re in for it now, kiddo.” 

It works like a charm. You gag on his fingers, slobbering as Joel fucks you. All you can do is take it, take the pleasure that he creates with you between stuttering hips and writhing bodies. It’s quickly becoming too much, release is inevitable as Joel fills you up over and over and over. You can’t stave it off much longer, not when you can hear the lewd, obscene noises of you cunt gushing on his cock and Joel, with his grunting, moaning. “Fuck, sweetheart. Goddamn.” Hot tears begin to spill down your cheeks, dampening his skin and Joel knows, oh how he knows how hard this is for you, you poor thing. He’ll soothe you if you’ll let him. “Come on, hon. Let go for me.” he urges. “You’re gonna come for me.” 

There’s no choice in the matter anymore, and you realize this. Nowhere to run and hide. You can feel your clit grinding against the calloused pads of Joel’s thick fingers and it’s only a matter of time. Tears are falling freely now, and Joel pulls his hand away from your mouth to wipe them off your skin. “You’re fine,” he says. “You can take it.” 

Joel manages to pull the hood of your clit back a little, making it all that much more sensitive as he rolls his hips into you. Your desperate moans and your squirming beneath him fills him with amusement. He admires your determination, how exhausting this must be for you. 

It’s just a few seconds of Joel painting your clit with tight and steady circles as he thrusts into you repeatedly. Release is right around the corner, you know it and so does Joel. There’s an intense, fiery and electric pleasure building deep in your gut, threatening to spill over. You feel it trickling down your thighs, traveling up your spine and when you gasp sharply, Joel knows you’re coming. “There it is,” he praises. “Oh, there you are. Good girl, good girl. I know that feels good.” 

He fucks you through your orgasm and even well past its departure so that you’re not sure where your climax begins and ends. It’s an overwhelming feeling, the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever felt before, intensified by his sloppy and stuttering thrusts as he finds his own release. You sigh as you feel him empty himself into you, dick twitching against your walls, his hot come paints your insides and fills you with a deep and satisfying warmth. 

Joel slows down, then stills completely as you both catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a grunt, watching the mess of his come and yours spill onto the fabric beneath your body. He pushes it back inside you, then brings his fingers to your lips. When you suck his fingers clean of the spend, he kisses your temple and scoops you into his arms, trailing his fingers up and down your spine. He can feel your satisfaction in your limp body, the way you relax into him. Joel chooses not to tease you for losing the game. 

After quiet moments pass, Joel hears you giggling to yourself. “Hey, you,” he says. “What’s so funny?”

“Tommy Tick Dick,” you answer.

 Joel giggles with you, his eyes crinkling and sparkling with his laughter. “Oh, I’m goin’ to hell for that.” 

“What, for laughing? I’m laughing, too.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’m the one who started callin’ him Tommy Tick Dick.” 

-

i'd like to share with you a poem written by @beefrobeefcal about this fic.

tick on his dick little nibbly friend chomping on down on tommy's bell end

If you enjoyed, please reblog/send me an ask/comment and tell me your thoughts! Your feedback keeps me motivated to write 🩷

[chuluoyi]

✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #9

"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.

"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.

The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.

Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.

As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.

"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.

"I lied," the man says lightly.

"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."

"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.

"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."

"Jon--"

"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."

The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."

Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.

"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."

"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."

"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.

"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"

Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."

"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."

Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."

"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.

"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"

"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"

Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"

J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.

"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."

"Jon," The man says.

"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."

"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.

"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"

"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."

Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"

"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."

"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"

"You can't."

"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"

"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"

"I wouldn't,"

"You belong with your family,"

"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"

"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."

"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."

J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.

"You don't mean that," the man is saying.

"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."

The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."

"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.

"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."

"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.

"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."

"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.

J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.

"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.

"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.

"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."

"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.

"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.

The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"

"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.

"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."

"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.

"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."

"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."

"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."

The others are silent.

"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."

J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.

This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.

"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.

"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.

You will say nothing.

"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.

J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.

You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.

Part Two

[actual-greenninja]

The Hashira And how I think they will act as parents (PT 1?)

Rengoku/ Giyuu/ Sanemi/ x GN Reader (modern au)

-------------------------~°★★★°~------------------------

Synopsis: Basically what the title says, this is just a little brain rot, may or may not be trash. Just me talking about how I think they would be as parents, how many kids they would want, etc

Authors note: This was kinda hard because I've never written nor read any works of Giyuu so he might not be written too well :')

Note: NOT PROOF READ

-------------------------~°★★★°~------------------------

Rengoku🔥 (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

🧡 I see him wanting many children, not too many of course but quite a few! Maybe two like him and his brother, Senjuro. Or maybe even three or four, five if you will let him!

🧡 He wants to be a better father to his children than what his dad turned out to be after his mom passed away. Has nearly sworn off drinking when his first child was born because he didn't want to risk anything , poor thing :(

🧡 However you guys plan on having children doesn't really matter,he doesn't care of they aren't biologically his or not, he will love them!!

🧡 I see him having more sons than daughters, he wants to raise them up right to become good, decent men! And if he has a daughter he will teach his son's to protect her, even though he knows she will be more than capable to take care of herself. If they want to be demon slayers that's even better!

🧡 He tries his absolute best not to be too loud when he is holding his first baby, you have never seen him whisper the way he did when he held his first born.

🧡 Loves hearing his children play! And if he isn't busy he will join in and play along! Usually their games consist of Rengoku chasing them. Maybe he is a demon and they are demon slayers trying to fight him off, it's an adorable sight!

🧡 If he sees you playing with his children he will just sit back and watch for a little. Seeing his love playing with his children brings him so much warmth in his heart

🧡 You could say it sets his heart ablaze (insert laugh track)

🧡 He has a little bit of trouble saying no to his little kiddos. But he knows where to draw the line (some what atleast)

🧡Will randomly send you pictures of him and the kids (he does it shirtless when they're babies. Says they need skin to skin contact). Usually consists of both of them smiling, or watching TV or reading a book or Rengoku nibbling their cheeks.

🧡" Sweetheart! Look at our little sun flower! He's so focussed on the story book you got! And look! Whenever we get to the page talking about parents, he starts to laugh! *Chuckle* it seems he loves his parent as much as I do. Like father like son— huh?"

🧡 It's canon that Rengoku is half deaf and that is why he speaks so loudly, so I imagine his kids definitely gained a habit of yelling naturally when talking like their dad.

🧡Prefers to be called 'Papa' by his kids. I'm not sure why I just see it.

🧡His genes are strong. STRONG. All your kids (if biological) look exactly like him. Hair, eyes, smile and all. He finds it hilarious and will always mock you about it.

🧡Is there to EVERY game or concert, and if the school needs a chaperone he's your guy! Mom's love him, teachers love him, kids love him, even dad's love him. Who wouldn't?

🧡 As much as I praise him, like everyone he isn't perfect. Like I said, he has trouble saying no. But I also imagine that as much as he tries not to be like his dad, is how much he wants you to be like his mom, because he remembers her as such an amazing mother. So there is a bit of comparing but don't worry, he loves you for you!

🧡 Another thing about him being half deaf: hes off like a light when he's asleep. Baby is crying? Sucks to suck because 60 percent of the time he will sleep through it. But when he hears he will be the first one to check on your little one.

🧡Rengoku definitely will feel very hurt the first time his kid gets embarrassed of him. Like when they go through that "YOURE EMBARRASSING ME DAD!!" phase. Like, he will get so insecure and will feel like they don't love him anymore

🧡 "Sweetheart, do I talk too loud when I'm around their friends? Or do I make weird jokes? I thought saying "rizz" was cool??" Is what he will ask In the dead of night, and you will have to comfort him

🧡I imagine that Rengoku would love taking you and his kids camping and will make it a yearly tradition, even though it ends up a catastrophe every year.

🧡Over all a 9/10, amazing dad, had his flaws but honestly who doesn't?

--------------------------~°★★★°~----------------------------

Giyuu 🌊 (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

🫐 He is okay with any amount of children you're comfortable with. He'd preferably want not too many, but also more than one, so two is a good number

🫐 Poor thing, the first time you told him you were pregnant he was completely emotionless for like two minutes, just staring at the ground. You were so scared but before you could speak he took your hand tightly and started sobbing. He was so happy he was gonna be the father of your baby :(

🫐 And if you told him you wanted to adopt he'd agree, showing support when you made the decision. But the moment he sees the child you're gonna adopt he feels tears stream down his face.

🫐 When he holds your baby for the first time, no matter how many babies you have he will never be use to holding them for the first time. He will be so gentle, whispering to them. He looks a little awkward but it's okay he's trying.

🫐 Faints the first time he sees a diaper. Why does it look like that? Why does it smell like that?! How do you put it on?! He was the youngest so he had no clue how to do this, but he'd learn for you and your baby.

🫐 "Darling! Darling! Please take the baby now!! He— he needs to be changed please!"

🫐"Giyuu I am at work what do you want me to do?!" -you guys when being new parents probably

🫐He's a very quick learner though so you won't have to worry. Soon he's working with the baby without breaking a sweat! You could even say he's a natural

🫐 He still can't handle things like puke and poops though. That's for sure, unfortunately.

🫐 When your kid is older he will definitely be at all the games, shows, recitals, whatever. But he isn't gonna be cheering loudly, he honestly justs blends into the crowd. But the moment your bundle of joy gets of stage he is congratulating them profusely.

🫐 Takes so many pictures of you and your baby. Has so many pictures, and sends it to all of his friend's (so like 3 people)

🫐 Doesn't embarrass your kids often, hes too rserved. But if a child even talks wrong to his baby, he will not hesitate to go up to them and give them a stern talking to, which may be a little embarrassing.

🫐If your kid likes to sing— He WILL sing along and take videos. But God forbid you take a video of him singing, he will chase you for your phone. He's a terrible singer, but he will do anything for your baby.

🫐 Will respect his kids boundaries. If they don't wanna hug in public, sure..he was the same at some point. He will feel a little hurt and go to you for reassuring, but he knows it's just a teenage thing.

🫐 Once tried to sound cool Infront of his kids friends but ended up looking kinda lame. TERRIBLE DAD JOKES AHEAD!!

🫐Tried making a dad joke with his kids friends, all of them stayed silent, so did he. The table was silent until one of them decided to change the subject. Giyuu has never known peace since.

🫐 Is a very light sleeper, some say he doesn't sleep so if his baby cries, he is the first to go and check on them.

🫐 He makes sure not to sound to negative about himself around his kids. He doesn't want them to end up with a mindset like his.

🫐 Do kids love him? Do parents love him? Do teachers love him? Nyeeehhhh. Quite frankly they forget he exists. He doesn't stand out, but atleast that means he doesn't do anything wrong.

🫐he has some flaws in his parenting unfortunately. You'd expect him to be stern, responsible parent but honestly he will let his kids get away with anything to 'help his chances of them liking him'.

🫐 Also something that isn't entirely his fault is that he is unintentionally emotionally distant as his kids get older. Like, he won't know how to comfort that well. But he will try his best. Nothing but the best for his kids.

🫐 Overall 8.5/10. Great dad, not extraordinary but still pretty amazing

---------------------------~°★★★°~---------------------------

Sanemi 🍃(⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ

🌱 The moment you announce that you're pregnant he is crying and becoming a little frantic. The most stressed out of the three despite his usual nonchalant demeanour.

🌱 He is making sure that you are taken care of, making sure everything is ready for the pregnancy months before

🌱If you guys are adopting he is alot less frantic but still very on edge. Making sure the bedroom is ready. Making sure everything is baby proofed.

🌱 But the moment the baby enters your lives it's like all that stress melts away in the blink of an eye. When he takes the baby into his arms and holds it against his open chest he is whispering sweet nothings into the kids ear.

🌱 Like Giyuu, he can't handle poop or vomit. Especially vomit. The first time your baby threw up on him was on his chest, and unfortunately since he keeps his chest own it slid down to his stomach

🌱 He shrieked. Genuinely shrieked.

🌱 "HOLY SHI— SHHHH....." he is trying his best not to swear Infront of your kid. He doesn't want to be remembered by your baby as an angry man.he can't. He refuses to let that happen.

🌱 You know he is stressed. Very very stressed. He doesn't want to be like his dad, his abusive father that he could only remember beating him and his siblings. He wants to be better, he needs to be better. But this worry leads to him having many sleepless nights where you would comfort him, telling him that he will never be his father.

🌱 When your kid gets older he will definitely take part in any little games they want to play. And he gets a kick out of it when he's the villain, because trust me when I say he is a phenomenal villain for his kids

🌱 Speaking of "kids", he wants more than one, definitely. Atleast three, but if that's too much for you he won't mind at all! He is a Girl Dad™ , nothing will convince me otherwise.

🌱 If he has a kid that looks exactly like him then he will be very careful. His baby is the most pretty, handsome thing in the whole universe, so how can he nitpick his appearance when he knows he has the eyes, nose and hair of his baby?

🌱 Lets his kid trace his scars, wether it be with their fingers or with markers. It gives him a sense of purpose.

🌱 Will he be a chaperone? Hell no. He hates any kid that isn't his. Will he host birthday parties? Hell yes, if it's his kids. But don't expect him to make small talk with parents.

🌱 If his kid shows romantic interest in Giyuus child he will actually combust. He doesn't want to be overbearing but if Giyuus 'spawn' goes near his angel he wil be throwing hands (with Giyuu).

🌱 Speaking of which, when your kid has a crush he will try not to be mad and sad at the same time

🌱 "Oh? Someone has caught the eye of daddy's angel? Well that's... Nice. Who is this kid? Is he nice? What's his name? What does he say? Do you know his parents? You know daddy will always love you the most"

🌱 Gets (very) defensive of his kids. If he's at a parent teacher meeting and the teacher dares to say something like "your child is too (this)" or your child is too (that)" he will get very upset. But he knows when he's child is truly the problem and will sternly check them.

🌱 Takes pictures of your kid doing the dumbest things in the dumbest angles. Have you seen that one pic of a guy standing on a babies shoulders captioned "on baby"? That is what hed send.

🌱 "Hey, babe. Look at our little mochi. Our baby is just the cutest thing alive😊❤️" and it's a picture of your baby from that one angle from the top of its head making it look dumb.

🌱 I imagine Sanemi has a sweet tooth, meaning he has a stash of sweets somewhere and of course he will share with his babies! But only one or two, anymore and he'll start to get a bit cranky.

🌱 He gives his kids punishments like the naughty corner 😭 and will make them stay there for 10 minutes before taking them to their room and calmly telling them where they went wrong.

🌱goes it his kids games/events and cheers LOUDLY. Almost rivals Rengoku. He is yelling, cheering, even swearing but each time it gets to that level he is kicked out.

🌱 Sanemi has quite a few flaws to his parenting. He has a bit of a temper, and although he keeps it in check it's hard to do so when he just came back from work. He will apologize many many times if he gets too upset

🌱 overall 8.5/ 10. He's a good parent, and he tries his best

---------------------------~°★★★°~---------------------------

Thanks for reading. Reblogs are appreciated. MIGHT make a part two with Tengen, Iguro and Gyomei

[jasmines-library]

Could you do a Winchester sister fic about her having a bad asthma attack and not being able to breathe and the boys get all scared

Breathe

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: First off i want to apologise for taking forever to write this. or anything. but we're back!

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Asthma attack.

Honestly not too sure how I feel about this one….but it’s my first time writing in weeks so pls bear with.

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Your fist collided with the Demon’s face as you swung around to face her. If the insistent throbbing in your hand wasn’t an indicator of how hard you had hit her, the stream of dark droplets falling from her nose, and the grunt she made as she went careening sideways were. She bounced back quickly though. Much quicker than you would have liked. She scowled, her black eyes narrowing as you swung a fist back in retaliation forcing you to lean back uncomfortably on your heels. You heard a clatter to your left as an array of cutlery went flying across the floor as Sam managed to tackle the demon he was dealing with. The woman in front of you glared at you with malice as she heard her counterpart go down. With a little shrug, and a petty smirk, you continued to dance around her, trying to get a good stab at her with your angel blade. 

When you heard Dean breathe out a sigh of relief as he managed to deal with the latter of the ones he had been fighting, you didn’t allow yourself to get distracted and keep your focus on her. Distraction is a hunters number one enemy. But you can feel yourself getting tired. You can feel the burn in your muscles and the ache in your lungs as it grows harder and harder to suck air into them. 

But then she made a mistake: She twisted to the side, raising her arm to swing a left hook, but left her right side open. It gave you the perfect opportunity, and you plunged the demon knife into her. She lit up in a spark of yellow before falling to the ground. 

It was straight after that that everything sort of…hit you. Now that you weren’t focused on ‘not-dying’, the tightness in your chest was more noticeable. And that made you panic. And of course, that made everything much worse. Clutching one hand to your chest and the other against the wall, you tried to get in another breath, only for it to feel as though it had been cut short. When Sam came through the door, his self-accomplished grin was cut short as he saw you struggling to breathe. 

“Hey, Hey.” Sam rushed over to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as you looked up at him, wide-eyes and breathing in short, frantic gasps. “Hey. Calm down. You’re fine. Breathe”

You try to listen to Sam. Try to get your lungs to open up and to breathe normally. But they are stubborn and seem to do the exact opposite. 

Sam’s heart seems to break a little when you look up at him. “Where’s your inhaler?”

You blink. Your chest heaves. “Car-”

Your older brother curses mentally, and you think that he calls out to Dean, because he’s rounding the corner one second and is hovering above you the next. 

“Dean…her inhaler. It’s in the car. Side pocket.” Sam tells his older brother, his tone firm and authoritative. Dean nodding, his hair falling over his eyes as he scrambles back out of the house, swerving around the fallen demons to get to the car as quickly as he can.

Sam’s hands remain on your shoulders. His large hands take up most of your shoulder as they rest on the coloured flannel of your shirt. They’re calloused and rough, but seem to act almost as a safety blanket keeping you grounded. He shifts one of them to your chin, pinching it gently between his thumb and his index finger as he lifts up your chin. His irises seem to shift in the light as he gets you to look at him. Hazel brown, then green and back to hazel again. They’re glossy, concerned, but hold a sense of ease. Protectiveness. 

“You’re okay, Kiddo. Just breathe. Dean will be back any second now.” Sam reassures, although he is unsure if he’s trying to reassure you or himself more. He’s panicking. And, he's beginning to grow antsy because Dean has yet to return from the car which he parked so impossibly far away. Damn stealth. 

An impossible amount of time later less than a minute Dean comes skidding to a halt, inhaler in hand. Dean has already shaken it and removed the cap, so he fumbles around to get it in your hand. Once your fingers wrap around the plastic your brain goes into autopilot. The plastic is quickly brought to your lips and the medicine pumped into your lungs as you inhale deeply. It doesn’t take long for the medicine to work its magic. You feel the burn in your lungs subside slightly, and a flood of air comes rushing into your lungs as you breathe deeply, leaning against the wall as you collect yourself, taking a moment to yourself. 

Dean raises a hand towards you, brushing the hair out of your face. “You okay sweetheart?”

“I……” You take another deep breath. “Yea. sorry.”

“No need to apologise, kid.” Dean says “As long as you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” you say, taking one last puff of the inhaler before replacing the cap and securing it in your pocket. 

“You have seriously got to start remembering to bring that with you.” Sam reprimands, always the sensible one.

You sigh. “I know. But it’s so annoying to carry around.”

“We know it is, sweetheart, but you kind of need it”

“I know…..”

“So you’ll bring it with you?”

“No promises.”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. He swears you give him more and more grey hairs everyday. You just grin up at him and he can’t help but shake his head affectionately at your stubbornness.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[eddiemunsonistheloml]

Reader ranking her nicknames (that Eddie gave her)

Based on the tiktok filter where you rank different nicknames

Part 2 for this but it doesn’t matter what order you read in

Paring(s): Eddie Munson x Reader

Words: 449

Warnings: (18+) no smut but mentions of sex, reader is mentioned to be younger than Eddie but age is not specified, reader is referred to as “pretty girl” and “Mrs” but other than that there is no pronouns, (lmk if I need to add any other warnings)

Check out my kinktober&flufftober here

1. Sweetheart

A classic yet you love it so much. Eddie calls you lots of different names but this has to be your favourite one. He loves watching how you still blush when he calls you “sweetheart”. He sometimes likes to joke that he was talking to his guitar not you because you’re both his sweethearts.

2. Pretty girl

Like Eddie you are a sucker for praise. Whenever you call him “pretty boy” he almost always responds by calling you “pretty girl”. He always insists that you’re pretty than him.

3. Sunshine

Eddie always says that you are the light of his life and as cheesy as it sounds it’s true. He thinks that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him (which might be true). Eddie loves how kind and bright you can be just like the sun.

4. Angel

Like the last one he calls you angel because you can be the sweetest person to him. Honestly you think it’s a little funny because most people still think he’s a devil worshiper but in reality he worships you- his Angel.

5. Baby

It’s simple but cute. It’s not your favourite name ever but you still love it like all of your other nicknames. He sometimes uses it to tease you about how you’re younger than him.

6. Doll

He usually calls you doll in the bedroom iykyk. Like almost all of the other nicknames he teases you with it. (Idrk what else to write for this one)

7. Killer

“Easy killer” is a phrase he says a lot when you’re mad. Whenever someone is making fun of Eddie you can get a little protective..

8. Kid/kiddo

He likes to tease you about being younger than him. You secretly love when he makes fun of you like that but you could never tell that him that because he’s way too cocky.

9. Babe

A classic. Like Eddie you like more creative names so “babe” isn’t your favourite name that he’s called you. He uses it more when you’re in public so he doesn’t embarrass you too much (he always ends up embarrassing you though).

10. Your name

He almost never ever calls you by your real name, sometimes he uses a shorter version of your name but hardly ever your actual name. The only time he does is when he’s mad at you so you don’t like when he calls you by your name because it makes you think that he’s made at you.

Bonus: Mrs. (Eddie) Munson

He likes to joke that you’re basically his wife already so why wait to call you “Mrs. Munson”. He also calls you “Mrs. Eddie Munson” just as often.

[avocado-writing]

hi! i was just wondering if you could write some headcannons for astarion, gale, halsin, karlach, and shadowheart about what they are like when you're pregnant/them as parents to a baby

So cute! I love wholesome family requests like these!

Astarion

When you're pregnant: he tries not to be too fussy, but let's be realistic, he likes to cluck about and make sure you're okay. He gets a bit overbearing actually. "Should you be doing that if you're pregnant?" sort of thing, you have to wave him off a couple of times. When you're asleep you hear him whispering to the baby bump about how he's going to protect them, make sure nobody would ever hurt them. (Also when you're in your third trimester the two of you like to pretend that you've gone into labour to get out of social situations you don't want to be in. He's all, "we have to GO my PARTNER is giving birth RIGHT NOW" then when you're far enough away you burst into laughter)

When you've given birth: as an elf, he only needs four hours to trance a night, so he's often holding the baby when you're awake. Speaks in whole sentences, he has no time for baby talk. "babababa..." "Mm, yes darling, I'm just worried this fabric is too sheer for that particular design." Catch him watching you cradling the baby looking utterly smitten from the doorway. He's happier than he ever believed he could ever be.

Gale

When you're pregnant: constantly reading up about magic to make things easier, whether it's to ease back pain or make the delivery more comfortable. Likes to stay up late discussing baby names with you, Tara resting on your lap and cuddling happily into your belly. Also armed with facts about the growing baby is during each month of your pregnancy, lmfao.

When you've given birth: wants to be there for every milestone possible, so takes lots of paternal leave from his teaching job. Baby's first word is 'dada' and he goes crazy for it, he's so so happy. Casts little, harmless spells which make the baby giggle - summoning Dancing Lights above their head to soothe them to sleep in their crib. As the baby drifts off you can often hear him whispering that "the two of you have made my life complete."

Halsin

When you're pregnant: knows all of the natural teas he can brew to help you relax. Always offering backrubs. Talks to the bump a lot, falls asleep with you as his little spoon so he can have his hand on your belly, keep you both safe as you slumber. Waxes poetic about what your baby might look like, whose eyes it will have, whose hair. If it will take to druidic magic or something more scholarly? All he knows is that he can't wait to meet them.

When you've given birth: the baby is usually in a papoose around his chest (when you're not holding them!) He's totally caught up in how lovely they are, how the two of you made something so wonderful. When they get a little older he is a big fan of letting them ride on his shoulders, encouraging them to run their hands through leaves on the boughs of trees and answering every endless question they can think to ask.

Karlach

When you're pregnant: constantly offering to carry things for you so that you don't strain yourself. Talks to the bump all the time. "Come on, kiddo! Mama can't wait to meet you!" Loves to have her hand on your belly and gets so excited when she feels a kick! "We've got a little fighter in there, I reckon!" Every so often asks if you really think she'll be a good mum, a little bit of anxiety creeping in - but you reassure her she'll be just wonderful.

When you've given birth: always standing over the crib to look at the baby, she just seems to happy when they're peacefully asleep. Likes to hum little made-up songs to them when they're settling down for the night. If the baby starts fussing for no reason, she picks them up and bounces them around until they're both giggling wildly. She is most happy when she has you in one arm and the baby in the other 💕

Shadowheart

When you're pregnant: does a lot of healing magic to help you with your aches and pains which helps a lot. She gets super into pregnancy books and is constantly offering you suggestions for how to make things a little easier - maybe because she feels guilty that you're the pregnant one. Offers up lots of soft prayers to her goddess for a happy family and your good health. The two of you bicker good-naturedly about names but do eventually settle on one you both like - maybe after one of her parents.

When you've given birth: constantly checking in that you're alright and happy as a new parent, because she is. Always makes sure there's a bunch of night orchids in the nursery. When the baby gets a bit older and is scared of the dark, she makes sure to teach them the Light cantrip so that they always have a nightlight if they need. And she teaches them to swim, just like you taught her all those years ago.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget (lmk if you want to be added)

[hughjackmansbicep]

Delicate

a/n: hi friends!!!! im hoping to make this into a multi part series, got lots planned for this mini fic :))))) this is kind of the prolouge to the real deal, needed to get the setup for it started before we divulge. expect lots of twists n turns my friends!

Pairing: Logan Howlett X F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: uhhhhh none lol

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: The government has successfully began the eradication of all mutant species in the United States. Lucky for you your dad has taken careful precautions to protect you from the evil that lurks in the streets outside. Tucked away in a concealed basement you sat and rotted away clinging to your old life and dreams. What happens when one day you've got a severe hankering for some ice cream and he ran out of beer the same night? Both finding yourselves in the right place at the right time.

The world as you knew it was slowly coming to an end. Mutants everywhere were dropping like flies after the government slowly started poisoning everyone's food. Unless you were an off-grid loner living off the land, you succumbed to the same fate as everyone else, 6 feet under. Lucky enough for you, your father kept you pretty sheltered. Tucked away in your fully renovated basement, the world is ignorant of your existence. It was safer this way; I mean, sure, you missed going out to bars and seeing your friends; hell, you even missed those 8 a.m. bio classes you used to take. But this was safer; at least that's what your father always preached. “It’s safer down here, away from all those evil people.” He'd remind you every day, “You're to never leave my site, kiddo, and never step outside those doors.” Not like you could anyways, while your mutation allowed you to control the atoms around you and morph them into anything your heart desired, you had one weakness, adamantium. Your house was coated in it; every doorknob, lock, and even the goddamn windows were coated in the shit. 

It was 3:00am, no one was home, and you found yourself craving ice cream. It wasn't uncommon for your dad to leave you to your own vices. He still had a job he'd have to attend to, and that more often than not led you to solidarity on his trips. And here you were in the middle of the night, the light from the fridge illuminating the dimly lit kitchen, tearing your freezer apart hoping to magically find a pint of Ben and Jerry’s buried deep in the frost. You groan, sinking down to your knees, met with disappointment and an ever-growing craving for the sweet, delicious taste of The Tonight Dough. Sure, you could've totally put in an Uber Eats order, but where would the fun in that be? You stood in front of the adamantium-cladded door, using all your strength to melt it to the ground, but to no avail. The only thing between you and your Jimmy Fallon-adorned ice cream was some space metal, and to hell if your dad really thinks that's going to curve the urge.

For the next hour, you ran around the house like a lunatic looking for a weak point. Maybe your father missed just one spot—one tiny spot in this prison he calls a home. A small hole fit for the size of a mouse teased you. Sure, you control all the atoms around you but your own? You'd never even attempted to entertain that idea, although the worst that could happen is you turn your body into a permanent pile of slop. That didn't sound too terrible when compared to being a basement dweller for the last 7 years. And it turns out it wasn't as bad as you'd thought; you melted your body down into a pile of liquid, slithering your way through the walls of your house before you were spit out from a hole in the bricks. The air on your skin cascaded goosebumps along your body; you honestly couldn't remember the last time you felt wind grace your skin or the sun illuminating off your shoulders. 

You skipped happily toward the corner store, taking in every sound around you. The sound your feet made when they hit the pavement, the distant chatter of the locals crowding down the sidewalks, even the obnoxious sound of a car horn brought a smile to your face. You finally understood the saying, ‘the city that never sleeps.’ You reached the corner store, swinging the door open and prancing inside as if it were Disney World. Your happy fantasy faded as the man behind the register yelled at you to put some shoes on before walking into his store. You looked down, wiggling your free toes, with all the excitement of liquifying yourself to get a taste of the outside world, common societal rules had slipped your mind. “I um.. Just came to grab a pint of ice cream; I’ll be really quick, I promise.” You pleaded sheepishly, offering him a quick smile to butter him up a bit. He simply rolled his eyes in disgust and turned his back to you, mumbling something under his breath.

You made your way around the convenience store towards the dairy section when something, or rather someone, caught your attention. He looked tall, and even with a leather jacket on, you could tell he was huge. He had some silly-looking facial hair and even sillier-looking cat-ear-like hair, but man, he still looked good. Your eyes slowly traveled down his arms to his pants. Cute butt, you thought to yourself. He stifled a laugh before turning in your direction and saying, “Thank you.” He grumbled, turning back towards the beer cooler. “What?” You ask, heat rising to your cheeks once you realize you'd accidentally said that out loud. He didn't acknowledge you, just went back to scanning the cooler. You took that as a hint to keep moving, finally landing in front of the ice cream section and grabbing the last pint of your favorite ice cream. Carefully looking around to make sure nobody was watching you, you pulled the lid off and used your mutation to pull out all the atoms belonging to the anti-mutant poisons that were mixed in with the delicious sweet treat. Floating above the ice cream, you cautiously manipulated them into a different container of food and made your way back towards the front. What you didn't know was that the unfortunate corner store owner had been watching your freak act on the CCTV cameras the whole time.

Turning around one of the aisles, you had spotted two men in suits talking to the man upfront. You couldn't make out what was being said as they whispered, but watching him point to you using your mutation on the TV screen explained enough to you. You backed up slowly, trying to even your breaths out before you had a panic attack. You felt someone grab your shoulder, spinning you around into them. It was Mr. Cute Butt; he must be working with those suited men too. Your eyes go wide as you focus all your energy on him. You were attempting to melt him, freeing yourself from his grasp, but it wasn't working for some reason. He just stared at your brows laced together, trying to figure out what in the fuck were you doing. “You're going to shit yourself if you keep straining like that.” He whispered a low chuckle, following after.

You froze, looking up at the man with pleading eyes. “Please don't hurt me; I just wanted some ice cream. Please i'll leave right now, sir.” You rushed out searching his face for sympathy or remorse something in hopes he'd release his grasp on you. He looked confused at what you were saying to him as if you were speaking some foreign language, but that didn't last long once you two heard footsteps approaching you. “C’mon kid.” He grumbled out, dragging you by your arm, ducking in between the small isles towards the exit. “They're over here!” The man upfront yelled, and the mystery man beside you just groaned before scooping you up into his arms and rushing you out of the store. You both quickly fell into the crowd, blending into the sea of people that populated the streets of New York. As soon as you two were outside, he'd set you on your feet, his arm still gripping your wrist, dragging you through the city with him.

“I need to go home, sir; please don't hurt me. I'm so sorry.” You cried, tears adorning your cheeks as you pleaded with him; if your father knew what was transpiring at this very moment, you'd be toast. Absolutely never allowed outside your basement ever again; you could kiss the sun goodbye because you'll probably never see it again once he gets home. He ignored your pleas though as he pushed through the crowds to a parked motorcycle on the road. “Oh no, I am not getting on that thing.” You halted your movements, digging your heels into the ground. “Suit yourself, sweet cheeks.” He laughed at you dryly hopping onto the bike, “They'll find you eventually.” He kicked the stand up, revving the bike on. You looked through the crowd behind you, worry etching onto your face. Maybe he's right; maybe I should hop on that bike and ride it into the sunset with this beautiful specimen, or he's no better than those suited men and could ultimately be leading me to my death. “Just get on the fucking bike.” He growled at the sound of sirens roaring closer to you two.

Begrudgingly, you hopped onto the back of the bike, plopping the helmet latched behind you on your head. At this rate, your sure your dad is going to skin you alive and hang you up to dry. “Hang on tight, princess.” He turned around to smirk at you. You snaked your hands around his torso, and he took off, the force causing your face to smash into his back and your grip on him tightening. You were sure if you had been gifted some form of super strength, you would've popped his torso clean off his legs with how tight you were squeezing him. You attempted to give him directions back to your house, but he couldn't hear you and kept heading in the opposite direction. He totally could hear you too, but he was ignoring your requests to return you home.

The quick 15-minute drive felt like an eternity with how utterly petrified you were. Matter of fact, you were so scared, eyes clenched shut, arms squeezing all the oxygen out of his lungs, you hadn't even noticed that you'd arrived at your mystery destination. He pried your arms off him, causing you to open your eyes; you were in complete shock. A gorgeous castle-like building stood before you, surrounded by trees, and a long gravel driveway trailed in front of it. A voice broke you from your thoughts, but this sound didn't come from the man sitting in front of you; no, it appeared like it came straight from inside your head. 'Logan, would you please introduce me to your new friend? The voice sang through you, your head whipping around frantically to find the owner of these words. “C’mon, I got someone for you to meet.” The man in front of you finally spoke, helping you off the bike and placing the helmet back in its spot on the rear. He guided you through the mansion all the way to the back, stopping at two huge double wooden doors.

“Come in, please.” Rang the same voice you heard earlier, the double doors slowly opening before you to reveal a small, bald man sitting in a chair. “And who might this be, Logan?” He questioned, looking towards the big man next to you. Logan, huh, you thought to yourself, cute name and a cute butt. Logan awkwardly shifted beside you, the bald man sending a booming laugh throughout the room. “Oh my God.. Did I say that out loud?” You whispered heat rising to your cheeks once again. Ignoring you, Logan started explaining to the bald guy, whose name you quickly learned was Charles, what happened earlier. Logan had seen what you were doing in that small store—how you made some substance float out of the ice cream and back into another pint. He assumed you were attempting to do something similar to that when he had grabbed you, and you began shaking like a Chihuahua, yet all you could think about during their discussion of the previous events was how you never got to eat the ice cream you risked your whole life for. “So,” Charles spoke, directing his attention to you. “What can you do exactly? What were you doing with that ice cream?” He hummed his eyes, raking you up and down, studying all your features. hoping they might tell him about who you are.

You were fairly normal-looking; I mean, to the average human eye, they couldn't tell you apart from another human. You felt like a deer in headlights right now, though; you'd never been asked or questioned about your mutation. You never dared to speak about it aloud; hell, your dad wouldn't even let you use your powers ever; it's like he was ashamed of you. “I can... manipulate things, i guess.” You spoke quietly; it felt taboo to you to speak about this, like this was some intimate, inappropriate topic to discuss. “And what do you mean by that?” He mused, deeply interested in your mystery. “I’m not exactly sure, sir. I just know I can do this.” You focus your eyes on the pen sat upon his desk, watching it quickly fall into a liquid puddle. “Fascinating.” Charles smiled up at you, “Can you change it back?” You trained your eyes down on the mess you created, quickly blinking as it slowly morphed back into its original shape of a pen.

Charles laughed in amusement before clasping his hands together. “We have much to discuss, little one, but for now Logan will show you to a room you can rest in. We'll talk more tomorrow.” He nodded at you before Logan had turned around out the door. You took this as your sign to follow, doors shutting behind you both. He guided you up the stairs, stopping at a random white door and handing over a towel and toothbrush he'd picked up on the way to your room. “Just try and get some sleep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “I’m just up the hall if you need anything, i guess.” He nodded his head in the direction of his door. You just smiled, turning around into your room and softly closing your door. 

You had no clue where the fuck you were or what these strange men were planning to do with you. You've heard the horror stories from your dad about how the government would poke and prod you if anyone knew what you could do. you'd be a test subject for rich white males to toy and play with. You'd set the towel and toothbrush down on a chair in the room you were assigned and slowly stalked your way to the bed. As you crawled into bed attempting to get some shut eye all that you could think to yourself was, "Man my dad is soo going to fucking kill me when he finds me."

[foxintheferns]

I'd love to see Jacob with a single mama. I'd love it if he imprinted on her while she's playing with her little one on the beach. She could be Charlie's niece who he helped move to Forks to give her a fresh start with the little one. I'm thinkin the kiddo is about 1-2, old enough to walk/play in the sand but still young. I can see Jacob being the best papa ever and the pack just LOVING on the kid <3 Please and thank you! <3

Thank you so much for your patience with this one! Because I made you wait so long, I made it a long one <3. Loved writing such sweet lil fluffy stuff. Please enjoy :)

A/N: AU where Jacob and Bella aren’t toxic & weirdly obsessed with each other, and he has his own life and experiences outside of her! Period.

HOME

You sat on the sand with Lydia between your legs, her wispy, silky auburn hair blowing between your fingers with each soft gust of the salty breeze. You faced the ocean, La Push beach surrounding you in all of its striking glory.

Lydia babbled as she played with the sand, her back to you and her arms and legs quite literally covered in the granules. It would be her second birthday in two months, and you couldn’t understand where the time had gone. She grew so quickly, her chunky little arms and legs getting longer by the day, and you wished desperately that you could pause time.

Your ex boyfriend Noah, Lydia’s father, hadn’t wanted much to do with the raising of his child.

You looked down at the side of her sweet face, the buttery soft skin of her cheek glowing with the orange light of the afternoon. It was despicable that anyone could not want to love this tiny human, you thought, that anyone would even consider leaving her by choice. But that was exactly what Noah had done. His booze and his gambling was far too important to him to bother with the raising of a small child.

It made you angry; you felt a relentless and almost violently intense need to protect her. From everything ugly and awful and false in this world, even if that meant her own father. He had never treated you right, always gone for nights at a time doing who knows what with God knows who. The pregnancy had been an accident, but his reaction was not what you’d expected. He’d seemed to be on-board at first, but was never there for you during your difficult pregnancy. You thought back to how your muscles had ached as you were on all fours scrubbing the bathroom floor that one Saturday night, seven months pregnant and inconceivably exhausted. He had come home after being gone for two days, reeking of liquor and barely having time to slur out his angry question of what you were planning on making for dinner before he’d passed out on the living room couch.

You had been expecting Lydia’s birth to snap him back to reality, to throw things into perspective for him. But the man you had practically grown up with, together since 18, had missed her birth.

“Got caught up at work,” had been his excuse when he showed up at the hospital the next morning. Even the labor and delivery nurse had thrown him a glare.

When Lydia was 3 months old, you were forced to go part-time at the job you’d loved, the one that could actually lead somewhere. Without Noah’s help, childcare was next to impossible. Your neighbor, Jess, a stay at home mom of three, was kind enough to babysit Lydia with her own children for a few days out of the week, but you felt awful not being able to pay her much, if anything, most weeks.

After over a year of trying, of desperately hoping and yearning for the man you had once loved to be a father to your sweet girl, you’d finally thrown in the towel. Noah had made it clear that he had no interest in being a dad, and in one of his more blacked-out stupors, had even remarked that if the two of you hadn’t gotten pregnant, things would’ve been easier. Better.

Noah had been gone 11 days, his longest absence yet.

You’d packed your minimal belongings, gathering Lydia’s too and putting them into her tiny suitcase with strawberries on it.

Your mom had passed when you were 16, and your dad was very much like Noah. Oh, how patterns repeat themselves. You didn’t have much of a support system to fall back on when shit hit the fan.

The one person you knew would answer if you called was your Mom’s brother, Charlie.

“(Y/N)?,” his gruff, tired voice had come through the phone that early Tuesday morning. You knew it was probably only 4am in Forks, where he was, but he’d still answered the phone.

“Uncle Charlie…,” you’d whimpered shakily, “I-….”

You didn’t even know where to begin. Uncle Charlie had always been so good to you, checking in and asking how Lydia was frequently. He’d been one of the few people you’d called to share the exciting news of your pregnancy with, and had been ecstatic, urging that you come visit him and your cousin Bella as soon as you could.

“What’s goin’ on? You okay?”, His voice had become suddenly alarmed, and you’d heard the shuffling in the background of him getting up and out of his bed.

Leaving with Lydia was something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but you didn’t think you could actually follow through with it. Saying it out loud felt impossible.

“I need your help,” you’d whispered, your voice low and on the verge of breaking.

That was two weeks ago now.

You sat on the soft sand with Lydia, her tiny fingers gripping your leg for support as she pulled herself up, and you thought back to the fear you’d felt that day. Charlie had immediately paid for a planet ticket for you and Lydia to fly up to Port Angeles. He didn’t waste a moment in inviting you to come stay with him. He’d been clearly enraged, barely hiding his distaste for Noah’s behaviors once you’d let the floodgates open and told him everything you’d been hiding for months.

“Jesus, (y/n). I thought you guys were doing good, I-… I thought he was different, honey. I’m so sorry, kid,” Charlie had spoken into the phone after the words pouring from your mouth had finally come to a halt once you’d gotten him caught up on the current status of your relationship with your baby’s father. You hadn’t realized it, but you’d been hiding it from practically everyone. Your cousin Bella texted you often, and she knew some of the details of how absent Noah had become, but even she didn’t know the extent of it. You were a single mother, from the moment Lydia was conceived, you’d accepted that. Noah was never a dad to her.

“Mama! San!” Lydia’s tiny voice shrieked out as she grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in front of her, some of it spraying in the breeze and landing across your chest and arms. She tentatively waited for your reaction. Her eyes scanned your face, her pink cheeks pulled into an ecstatic smile. You laughed, shaking your head, and wiped the rough granules off of your skin as you nodded at her.

“Yes, sand!” You picked up a handful of it, holding it out to show her and letting it spill through your fingers. She shrieked again, excited by your intentional dropping of the sand, and jumped several times, her little legs barely able to lift her half an inch off the ground.

You’d been down at the beach in La Push almost every day now. You’d gotten settled in to the extra bedroom at the Swan’s house, and you couldn’t help but feel like a burden, so you went out with Lydia often. Charlie and Bella had insisted, several times, that they were grateful to have the two of you. That they didn’t feel burdened by your presence. A toddler definitely wasn’t the quietest or most polite house guest, but Lydia was truly the best thing you’d ever done, and you prided yourself that you’d managed to raise such a good tiny human all on your own.

She was kind, and gentle. She loved animals, she loved making new friends. She watched the world around her with curious and eager eyes, anxious to explore and see and feel. She laughed and laughed and laughed; she was the giggliest baby you’d ever seen.

Bella offered to watch her whenever you needed a break, and you hadn’t asked for one yet. She was practically begging to babysit Lydia at this point, which had surprised even her; she wasn’t much of a kid person.

You didn’t want a break. You were soaking up this time with your little one as much as you could. You felt free, for the first time in a long time.

The beach felt like home now, and Lydia seemed to think so too. Every time you walked with her down the dirt path toward the beach, she would screech and try her best to run towards the glistening ocean. You’d been at the beach now for an hour or two, and you reached into your bag to pull out more baby sunscreen for her.

“Lyd, come ‘ere babe.” You reached out, gently pulling her to you, and her eyes landed on the pink bottle of sunscreen. She knew the drill at this point, and gingerly leaned against you as you rubbed the cream across her tiny little shoulders and arms. She giggled and smiled as the cold sunscreen landed on her skin.

“Eeee!” She cried, slapping her small hands against your leg as she pulled her face away in protest to you trying to spread the sunscreen across her cheeks. She still stood in place though, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting as you rubbed it in.

“Thank you, baby. Such a good girl,” you cooed as you snapped the lid of the sunscreen closed and placed a kiss on the tip of her little nose. You continued to pepper her face with smooches until she was a screeching, giggling mess on the sand, her arms and legs flailing every which way. You tickled her, both of you laughing loud enough for the sound to travel over the noise of the rolling waves hitting the beach.

After the tickle attack came to an end, you grabbed some strawberries and blueberries from your bag, pulling open the Tupperware container and holding it out to Lydia. Her eyes lit up (strawberries are her all time fave) and she eagerly grabbed at the berries with both hands. After several minutes of snacking, her mouth and face was stained pink and red, and her fingers were sticky. The sand was still warm, although the breeze was starting to cool off a bit.

“Let’s walk, yeah Lyddi?,” you asked, getting up from your large towel and brushing the sand off of your legs. She bounced around beside the towel, falling a few times onto the soft sand as she lost her balance. You held your hand out and smiled down at her, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She reached out without hesitation, allowing you to envelope her tiny hand in yours, and let you lead her down towards the water.

You walked across the gentle waves, only going far enough so that the incoming swells flowed across your feet and ankles. With each wave hitting the shore, Lydia giggled and gripped your hand firmly, picking her feet up as quickly as she could to run from the water as it approached, only to run back towards it when it receded. You bent down, releasing her hand to skim the ocean water, wetting your fingers to clean the berry juice from her face.

As you were wiping your thumb across the soft skin of her chin, you saw her eyes flicker to something behind you, down the beach. Her gaze was intent and focused, and you glanced over your shoulder to see what managed to catch her constantly fleeting attention. A group of four tall men coming down the beach, kicking a soccer ball amongst their group. Their laughter was just reaching your ears now, and they were coming close enough that you were able to make out their faces.

They were quite large, and all but one of them were shirtless. The image rang a bell: they looked like they could be some of the Quileute boys you’d heard Bella mention were her close friends. You knew the beach was on the local Quileute reservation, but it’d been relatively empty in the days you and Lydia had been spending there, and you’d only seen random tourists walking along the beach occasionally. Bella had complained jokingly to you that these friends of hers were annoyingly always shirtless, impossibly large and tall, and that her boyfriend Edward wasn’t the biggest fan of them.

You smiled when one of them looked down the beach towards you and Lydia, and he seemed to return a polite smile at first, but his face melted into an odd expression when your eyes met. It was an indecipherable look. A look you didn’t understand.

He stopped walking, his body halting while his friends continued to move down the beach ahead of him. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was about to wave or come towards you, as if he recognized you like an old friend. The peculiar expression lingered for a moment before he pulled his eyes away quickly, and you saw his mouth moving as he seemed to speak swiftly to the men around him. His friends stopped walking as well, all turning to face him with bewildered expressions. The eye contact between you had been longer than a typical interaction with a stranger, but you felt oddly unalarmed. You were struck with an odd sensation that felt like you recognized him too.

He was the tallest of the group, his shoulders wide & strong. His frame was long and lean, and he happened to be the only one wearing a shirt, though it was a black cut off tank that didn’t cover much of his chiseled musculature underneath. You brushed the encounter off as random and probably explainable, trying to ignore the odd and unfamiliar sensation that prickled across your entire body like electricity.

You turned back to Lydia, but her curious eyes were still locked on the group behind you, wonder filling her face. A smile crept onto your lips as you watched her blink, her long lashes framing her wide eyes. She was beautiful. She was always so curious, so interested. Strangers made her nervous, like any two year old, though, which is why you were utterly bewildered when she broke away from your grasp and started toddling down the shore towards the group of men. You shot up from your lowered position, chasing after her.

“Lydia!” you called, your feet picking up pace.

It was amazing just how fast a two year old could be when they suddenly decided they had a destination in mind. You caught her under the armpit just as she almost fell across the wet sand in her run, and your knees hit the soft sand as you almost fell yourself. You panted, holding onto her and unable to stifle back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“What the heck! Lyd-,” you started, looking up from where you grasped her. She was frozen, staring up at something.

She’d managed to close the distance between the two of you and the men, quickly enough that the soccer ball they’d been passing around as they came down the beach was only feet away now. You followed her gaze, and saw two large hands come down to swiftly pick up the ball. Your eyes moved up more still, until they landed on the face of the man you’d just locked eyes with moments before.

His gentle brown eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his expression yet again incomprehensible. You still had a smile on your face, and his eyes flicked down to your grin, the corners of his own mouth lifting up slightly. He gestured toward you with the arm that held the soccer ball.

“You’re, uh, Bella’s cousin?” The sound of his voice was rough and deep. Your grin faltered to make way for the suprised expression that came across your face.

“Oh, uh, yeah! Um, you know Bella?” You asked, taking the brief moment to get back up onto your feet and readjust the flowy fabric of your sundress that had gotten ruffled up in the capturing of your tiny escapee. You still held Lydia’s hand, and she stayed unmoving by your side, watching the tall man with the same awed expression. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes maintained the same electric glow they’d had from the moment you’d looked at him.

“Bella’s one of my best friends, yeah. She’s told me a lot about you…and… uh Lydia, right?” He spoke gently, his eyes glancing down at the tiny human to your right. You looked down at her, too, and she smiled timidly up at the man, stepping slightly behind your leg shyly. You beamed back at him, nodding and running your fingers through the soft silky baby hair on the top of Lydia’s head.

“Yeah, this is Lydia,” you replied, ruffling her hair until a soft giggle fell from her lips.

“I’m Jacob Black,” he glanced beyond him briefly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “those are my buddies Quil, Embry, and Jared. You’re (Y/N)?”

You glanced briefly over to the other three men, though they were now immersed in their own mumbled conservation several yards away; one of them was watching you with interest and flashed a warm smile back at you.

You nodded, turning back to Jacob.

“That’s me,” you answered with a shrug and a smile. When you met his gaze again, his eyes were intense, almost pained, his pupils wide. That electric feeling ran through you again. The eye contact between the two of you lingered each and every time it occurred, as if it was an inconvenience to pull away from it for both of you. Jacob knelt down on one knee, tucking the soccer ball under his arm. His eyes only broke away from yours to glance down at Lydia, who was still watching him intently from her place next to your leg.

“Hi, Lydia, it’s nice to meet you,” he murmured gently, “I’m Jacob.”

There was a hesitation, and you were just about to encourage Lydia to say hello to Jacob, but to your surprise she broke away from you once more, ambling across the sand and reaching her arms out towards the soccer ball Jacob held under his arm. In her uncoordinated stumbling over the sand, she started to fall forwards. Before you could even begin to reach to catch her, one of Jacob’s large hands came out in a flash to support her, stopping her mid fall.

“Woah, buddy, careful there!” He exclaimed, a chuckle coming from his chest.

At the sound of his laughter, your baby beamed up at him, her expression suddenly delighted, and after a moment, a giggle erupted from her own little body.

Your eyes widened, shocked as you watched her laugh, Jacob’s large hand still holding her up off the sand. His eyes flickered to you as you broke into surprised laughter as well, and soon the three of you were a giggling mess. Lydia adored making adults laugh. It was the phase she was currently in: to laugh at everything anyone deemed amusing, and it was common that she would even fake laugh to get you to laugh, which would often result in a real fit of hysterics from the both of you

You were astonished that she’d warmed to a stranger so quickly, especially such a large man - a category of human that toddlers tend to decide is terrifying for no reason.

As the afternoon started to bleed into evening, you and Lydia got to know your new friends. Lydia was very opposed to moving away from them, interested in the soccer ball and jumping around in the sand. Jacob continued to stare intently at you every moment that his eyes weren’t required to be on something else, and you didn’t mind it. His energy was warm and gentle, and even his friends seemed to find his behavior entertaining, chuckling and whispering to eachother every time Jacob’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds too long. You couldn’t help but feel the heat rush to your face with his stares. You hadn’t really felt this noticed by someone, a man, in what felt like forever. And he was absolutely noticing you. He was doing more than notice you. He was ogling at you, drinking the sight of you in like fresh air for a suffocating man. His eyes turned gentle and soft whenever they fell upon Lydia, and he spent the time as the two of you spoke truly attending to her and her endless toddler games, showing earnest interest in the shells she had picked up and started to stack on one of his feet.

“Oooh, wow, now that one’s pretty. Definitely my favorite one yet.” He carefully examined the newest purple shell Lydia had found and handed to him for inspection. She smiled and clenched her fists in excitement, eagerly racing to find more shells in the sand to bring to him.

His eyes slowly found their way back to yours as you sat beside one another. You smiled softly, and he returned it, the smile reaching his eyes and crinkling them gently.

There it was again, that electricity.

Six Months Later

It had been a whirlwind, these past six months. Meeting Jacob Black had changed life entirely for you and your daughter. After that night on the beach, you, Charlie and Bella had visited the Blacks’ home a few times, joining them for bonfires and pizza dinners whenever a hockey game was on tv. Bella seemed adamant that you visit Jacob often, even Charlie seemed surprised with how eagerly she encouraged you to join them and hang out with the Quileute boys. You’d met Jacob’s father, who seemed to welcome you into his family without hesitation within moments of meeting you. He had peered at you with an intensely inquisitive expression, something that reminded you of the odd gut feeling you hadn’t been able to shake…that your new acquaintances were far more interesting than they let on. There was just something about them, and it felt like a secret club you were looking in on, one that caused the hushed, private conversations that seemed to happen frequently in their presence. You’d spoken to Bella about your encounter with her friend right after that first night on the beach. As the rest of that week had passed, Bella had begun acting suspiciously around you. Within days of her odd avoidant behavior, she finally sat you down to tell you things that challenged your perception of the world, forever.

Vampires and werewolves.

Insanity, right?

Bella had explained her relationship with Edward, and you hadn’t believed it at first.

Like, at all. Who would?

In fact, you thought she’d been completely off her rocker, crazy.

That was, until she’d claimed that Jacob had something to do with it, too.

“You need to go talk to Jacob,” she’d urged, “only he can explain what you need to know.”

You’d been absolutely confused, unsure what Jacob Black had to do with anything, especially with this absurd tale of vampires.

“I’ll watch Lydia. Go,” she’d insisted, practically pushing you out the front door. You were insanely curious; you’d never had any reason to question Bella’s mental competence before, and with her frantic efforts to get you to talk to Jacob, you had to know what this was all about. You still of course doubted the absurd story, but wanted to get to the root of the craziness, naturally.

When you’d arrived at the Black’s house, it seemed Jacob was expecting you, and he’d grabbed your hand gently, pulling you towards his little makeshift garage in the back.

You’d spent hours with him that night. Jacob had tried, while his eyes watered and his voice shook nervously, to explain the wildly unbelievable, and yet somehow completely sensical and validating reality of his ancestral destiny.

“I know, (y/n). Please, believe me, I know this sounds crazy,” he’d said as he anxiously paced across the garage, his eyes flashing to your face for your reaction.

You’d shaken your head, trying to connect the dots in your mind. It matched up with the absurd story Bella had told you, only this time he was speaking of wolves, wolves with the instinctual duty to protect from the supposed vampires Bella become involved with deeply. Wolves that were not wolves, but men. Men that included Jacob and his friends.

“Come with me,” he’d finally insisted sternly as you’d silently refused to accept the words he spoke, staring at him dumbfoundedly.

He’d led you outside, to the dark treeline, and placed his hands up in front of him before you could protest.

“Listen, I know this is gonna be hard to see, (y/n). I didn’t wanna have to do this but I need you to understand. There’s so much more to this world than you think there is. Please,” he’d begged, pulling you into a tight hug, his eyes wildly urging yours to listen to him, his shaky voice reducing to a whisper against your hair, “I understand if you never, ever want to be a part of this. But you deserve to know.”

You’d shaken your head, bewildered.

“What are you talking about, Jake?”

He stood back and started to pull his pants down, and your eyes widened, your eyebrow cocking up in confusion. A smile flashed across his lips.

“Remember what I just told you. I’d never hurt you, okay?”

Your mind flickered to the story he’d just spent the last hour telling you, but your brain simply wouldn’t allow you to defy logic to consider the possibility that the man was truly actually about to turn into a wolf.

And yet, you stood there with your jaw slacked open and your eyes wide, your body frozen as he stepped back several feet, his body twitching and trembling and twisting oddly before…

A ripping sound rang out, a wildly violent sound that came from deep within his body. The sound echoed against the trees, before it fell hauntingly silent across the dark backyard. Within less than a moment, a massive red brown wolf was standing before you, his huge head only inches away from your face.

Your mind didn’t comprehend the sight, the reality too unreal and too intangible to wrap around and understand. Those same brown eyes you’d come to know and feel safe in stared back at you intently from the massive wolf’s face.

It was the last image you remembered before you’d fallen to the ground, slipping into a shock driven unconsciousness.

When you’d woken, you had been in Jacob’s bed, an ice pack being gently repeatedly pressed to your forehead and neck.

It had been a rude awakening, but one that had forced open your eyes to a world that quickly became home for you, lifting the veil of reality that you’d come know.

Jacob’s next explanation was that of the concept of imprinting. That night, after you’d settled and moved out of your state of shock, started speaking real words again, Jacob expressed why he felt it was necessary to expose you to his world. He’d explained the ancient way of imprinting, what it meant for him, what it meant for you. That first day on the beach, the way he’d look at you, that electricity. It all made sense now.

“It’s you, (y/n). Now that you’re here, I will follow you anywhere. Even if you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll always protect you and Lydia from afar. Always. I can’t imagine a world anymore without you, a life without you. The moment I saw you, I felt it. My heart was yours,” he’d murmured, his arms around you as he rubbed your back to calm your tremors that had come across your body as you tried desperately to adjust to your entirely new concept of existence.

That felt so long ago, now. You’d met the Cullens soon after you were welcomed into the world of the supernatural, joining Bella in her secretive lifestyle of hiding the direct truth from Charlie, only letting him in on what he absolutely needed to know. Charlie was over the moon that you and Jacob got together; he pissed Bella off with how openly he approved of your relationship with Jacob over hers with Edward. Jacob didn’t feel right having you live in a spare bedroom at the Swan house, and had practically demanded you move into a home on the reservation with him. He’d jokingly insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that the imprint had forced him to need you in his sight at all times. You didn’t resist, elated to finally feel welcome in a home with your Lydia. And it wasn’t hard - Jacob made that incredibly simple. He so openly loved Lydia nearly as much as he loved you. Sometimes, you wondered how deeply the imprinting had impacted him. He accepted it and took it on with respect. He never pressured you to be anything but there, in his life. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest or even really notice how slowly you were allowing him into your heart. The relationship you had with Jacob had begun as a deep and true friendship, but the imprint connection was impossible to ignore, and there was undeniable attraction you felt for him, even beyond his beautifully kind heart and spirit. You held hands constantly, even before you’d established any sort of romantic connection. The first night Jacob had kissed you, you’d expressed your hesitation at pulling him into your life. You’d gotten used to men not wanting much to do with a single mom, after Noah had made it clear that you and Lydia were essentially a burden in his life. You were scared, not only for your own heart, but for Lydia’s. You couldn’t bear to bring another man into her life only for him to reject her like her father had. But Jacob? He’d adamantly refused to let your anxieties overcome you. He loved you, he’d insisted. All of you. Lydia was part of you. So, he loved her. It was that simple to him. He was often just as anxious when Lydia was out of his sight as when you were.

You remember the first time Lydia had called Jake ‘Dada’, several months after you’d been exposed to this world of fantasy. Lydia had gotten so comfortable with him, more comfortable than she’d been with any person, besides you, before. She babbled with excitement every time she heard you or Charlie or Bella mention him, and begged to see him frequently. Once you’d moved into the small red house with Jacob, she’d jump and squeal every time his truck pulled into the driveway at the end of the day.

That day she first said the word, you’d nervously glanced at his face, searching for his response.

She’d been holding his hand, walking along the shore at La Push. It was winter by this point, but Lydia needed her regular beach walk, and was bundled in her tiny red puffer jacket and white hat. She’d stooped down to pick up a shell, gripping it in her small fist, and jerked her hand out to him, dropping the shell into his hand.

“Dada!” She’d squealed as she waited for his approval of the shell.

His eyes had lit up and an expression of utter shock, which had quickly shifted into ecstatic bliss, moved across his features. His eyes had flashed to yours, and he clearly struggled, with everything in him, to hold back a massive grin. He was unsure of your reaction. Your eyes had melted back at him, and you were completely unable to resist the smile that crossed your lips. His dark eyes had turned glossy, and he’d looked back down at Lydia’s impatiently waiting face as she’d stared up at him, grasping the shell and embracing her in a massive bear hug. She’d laughed and shrieked, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

At Lydia’s 2nd birthday party, the whole pack had celebrated with you and Jacob at Billy’s house. The rest of the boys had happily taken on the role of proud uncles, practically fighting over who could hold her whenever you brought her over.

Life was peaceful, and you’d taken on a job at the La Push Farmer’s market. Childcare was a breeze now: on any given day while you were at work, either Sue & Charlie or Emily would eagerly babysit Lydia if Jacob was out on patrol or working his shift as a mechanic at the local bike shop. Lydia now had a family that was larger and more loving than you could have ever dreamed for her.

And you couldn’t ignore the fateful gift that you’d received too. Jacob Black was yours, and you were his. And you knew that, without a single doubt, he’d protect you and your daughter with relentless fervor for the rest of your lives.

You were safe. You were loved.

You were home.

[secretmelanie]

Desire For The Forbidden - Negan Smith

dbsf!negan x reader

word count: 3,3k

A/N: First of all, I have to apologize for accidentally posting this before, because I'm fucking stupid and I don't know how to use tumblr properly (yeah, I didn't go through that phase when I was a teen...)

But well... Shit happens to everyone 🤷🏻

This is the first time I've written a TWD fic and the first time I've published a fanfic... I have no idea how this is going to turn out. This story is just something that was in my crazy little head.

Warnings: Teasing, age gap (reader is 23, negan is mid 40s), fingering, face fucking, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, cum play, p in v, dirty talk, praise, rough negan

━━⊱✿⊰━━

Your father and Negan have been friends for as long as they can remember, Negan held you when you were a baby, took care of you when your parents were busy and he was your gym teacher throughout high school.

When the outbreak began and you lost your mother to the rotters, or "walkers" as you call them nowadays, You and your father fled their city, ending up moving away Negan, not hearing from him for a long time, thinking he had died.

Almost a year after it all started, you came across a group called The Saviors, and your reunion with Negan came to light. You and your father didn't expect to see Negan in this situation, a powerful and dangerous leader, who had communities in his hands.

Now, you guys live in the Sanctuary, your dad is one of Negan's "henchmen," and you're, well, you. Negan hasn't given you any trouble since you arrived, you basically help the weakest people in the Sanctuary to protect themselves and slash walkers when the Saviors let you out. It's quite boring to be honest.

Well, it WAS quite boring.

Your room and your father's room were on the same block as Negan's, since you are very close. This can be counted as both an advantage and a disadvantage. An advantage because it is an extremely protected and safe place, and a disadvantage because you had to deal with the noise that came from his room when he was with his wives.

One day, it was pretty late and the top of the Sanctuary was practically empty, your father and Negan were celebrating with a bottle of whiskey the acquisition of another community. You were with them, just watching them and listening to their conversations, with a glass of wine in your hand, practically the only thing you drink, as it was the only thing your mother drank. You can't help but notice the way Negan's throat moves as he swallows the drink, how the liquid sometimes runs down the corner of his lips and onto his neck and how he licked his lips after. "He had no right to be so hot." you thought, as you took a sip of your wine.

A few hours passed and your father crawled into bed, and Negan went to a small room that contained a TV and a couch, a room that only the three of you had access to.

You saw him heading there, and decided it would be a good idea to go with him, but first, you needed to get comfortable.

You put on your pajamas, a tight white shorts and a tight white tank top, the print on them is some black kittens. These pajamas highlight your curves and breasts, and it's pretty clear that you're not wearing panties or bra. You know damn well how wrong what you're going to do is, but hey, is it your fault that Negan is so fucking hot? No, it isn't.

After changing, you go to the small room where Negan is, he's sprawled out on the couch, legs spread, and a glass of whiskey in his hand. You look at the TV, but completely ignore the movie that was playing. Some VHS tapes are scattered near the TV.

Negan looks at you, you notice his eyes roam your body and he takes a sip of the drink in his hand.

"Hey, kiddo... It's pretty late, I thought you were already asleep." he says, his voice a little hoarse from drinking. Unlike what he does with his wives, blatantly looking at their bodies, he avoids checking out your body, focusing on your face.

You shrug, sitting next to him, and he closes his legs, looking at you. "I'm not sleepy." You respond, resting your head on his shoulder.

"What film is that?" you almost whisper, looking up at him and meeting his eyes, You notice that he is avoiding touching you as much as possible, something that is definitely not normal for Negan when it comes to a woman desiring him, but you completely understand him, after all, you are his best friend's daughter.

"Just a stupid western movie, we don't have much choice here." you nod to his anwser, your eyes focusing on the TV.

You notice that his eyes are now focused on your body, roaming over your curves and your breasts, focusing on your cleavage, but you ignore it completely, pretending to be focused on the movie. He keeps checking you out, and you smile inside, everything is going according to how you planned.

After a few minutes, you stretch and spread your legs a little, getting more comfortable next to him. Negan obviously notices this, and he holds his breath, biting his lip. He takes his free hand to your thigh, as if he didn't want anything, and you ignore it too, as if just one touch from him wouldn't make you melt inside and your intimacy get soaked. You hug his chest, your hand passing teasingly across his stomach until it reaches the other side of his body, moving closer to him.

"Why don't we find something else to do, sweetie?" he clears his throat before saying it with a little mischief in his voice. "Oh, sure..." you get up from the couch, crossing your arms, highlighting your breasts even more. "I'm going to sleep." a smile spreads in your face as you say this and he frowns.

Your body moves closer to his again, and you lean down, kissing his forehead, your cleavage right in front of his face.

He looks a little shocked when you pull away, and you smile at him, saying goodnight and leaving the room, closing the door. Negan couldn't help but look at your ass when you left, your shorts barely covering that area of ​​your body.

When you closed the door, you stood there, and you could hear Negan saying "Damn, she's going to drive me crazy someday." and the sound of his pants zipper opening, followed by the noise of his pants being removed, and a sigh of relief, which you deduced was when he touched himself. You stayed there for a while, listening to Negan's low moans, and smiled when you heard your name escape those lips.

You walked to your room smiling, your intimacy wet from hearing him moan your name, which made you satisfy yourself before going to sleep. Your plan is working.

You woke up the next morning, and headed to the meeting room, which was where you, your father, and Negan usually had breakfast together. You were no longer wearing your pajamas from the night before, but a pair of sweatpants and a loose blouse, which you stole from your father when the outbreak began and you barely had any clothes to change.

Negan and your father were talking about the group's achievements, and you sat next to Negan, greeting them.

They both said good morning to you, and continued talking. You pick up an apple and bite into it, the fruit probably came from some group, you feel a little bad about consuming products taken from other communities, but you couldn't do anything about it.

You listened to their conversation for a long time, until you felt Negan's hand on your thigh, smoothing it and squeezing it lightly. You ignored it, once again pretending that it didn't make your whole body shiver. Everything was going well, until Negan looked at you for half a second, and his hand touched your intimate area, still covered by your pants, caressing it gently, you didn't know how to react, you thought it would take him a while to create the courage to do that out of respect for your father, especially since you two were in front of him, you just opened your legs a bit, giving him permission to continue. He smirked, and quickly got his hand into your pants and panties.

His fingers began to explore your pussy, gently passing through your folds, and his thumb caressed your clit, as he teased your entrance with his index and middle finger. You had to control yourself, because your father is on the other side of the table, but this is so difficult, since now Negan's fingers are slowly entering you.

Your eyes are focused on the wall in front of you as you try to control your breathing and eat your apple normally, but when his fingers get knuckles deep inside you and curl, you let out a gasp, having to pretend that you choke on the apple when your father asks what happened, earning a chuckle from Negan.

Your intimacy is increasingly wet, and this makes it easier for Negan, who fucks you with his fingers, going as deep as he can, reaching your g-spot, and increasing the speed of his thrusts. You do your best not to moan, your breathing is labored, and a drop of sweat runs down your forehead, you notice how slow your father is, because he didn't notice your strangeness, but you and Negan are obviously grateful for that. Your thoughts don't stay on that for long, as Negan's stimulation brings you closer and closer to your orgasm, making you bite your bottom lip hard, causing your lower lip to bleed a little.

Your orgasm hits hard, and you close your eyes tightly, your legs shaking and your body squirming surreptitiously, as you try as hard as you can to not moan, causing a small noise to come out of your throat. Negan gives a satisfied smile, and only now do you pay attention to what they were talking about again, your father is going out with some of the Saviors, to look for other communities, deep down you hope they don't find any, but you know that not everything goes as you expect.

You finished your breakfast feeling Negan's eyes on you, but every time you looked at him, he wasn't even looking at you. Your father got up after finishing his coffee, and kissed you on the forehead, leaving the place.

Negan looks at me as I take a sip of my orange juice. "Have you seen the time, sweetie? I can't believe you woke up so late..." he teases you, since you're always one of the first person to wake up in the Sanctuary.

"I don't believe you woke up early, Negan, since you stayed busy late." you say it back, and he understands right away that you know that he jerked off thinking about you, and it definitely doesn't bother him.

"Oh damn, you heard it, huh?" his tone of voice is provocative, and he has that fucking smirk on his face. "What did you think, did you like it, sweetie? I know you did..." you just roll your eyes when he says that. "If I say no, I'll be lying."

And that was it, that was the trigger for him to get up, pick you up and take you to his room.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask, trying to get down, making him chuckle. "Shit, sweetie, you teased me like hell last night, and now you don't want me to fuck that delicious pussy of yours? You let me finger you and now you don't want me to feel your pussy contracting around my dick like I felt it around my fingers? Damn, you're selfish, huh?" he opens the door to his room, entering and closing it with his foot, placing you on his bed, looking down at you.

You feel your cheeks blush, and you avoid eye contact with him, he certainly notices this, and holds your chin, making you look at him. "Are you embarrassed now? It doesn't even look like you were almost naked in front of me, and rubbing your fucking tits in my face when you went to say goodnight." you bite your lip as he says this, and takes a deep breath, you really didn't expect Negan to react this way so soon, apparently he doesn't even care that you're his best friend's daughter.

"You were a bad girl, you know that? Teasing me like that... Damn, I never thought I'd want to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck you" you couldn't help but end up smirking, licking your lips as you looked at him. Negan pulled you close, kissing you with so much intensity that surprised you, but you quickly kissed him back, moaning into the kiss when his tongue touched yours. He makes you lie down on bed, and he climbed on top of you, kissing you violently, while his hands hungrily explored your body, making you moan and squirm when he gave your right breast a hard squeeze. The man pull away from the kiss by biting your bottom lip hard, and he starts to attack the skin of your neck, sucking it, leaving red marks all over your neck and throat. He quickly removes your shirt, biting his lip as he sees your bare torso.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so fucking beautiful." he sighs, before sucking one of your breasts while his hand massaged the other, he did it in a delirious way, your pussy desperate for his touch once again, as it gets wetter and wetter with every little thing he does to you.

"Negan, please..." you whispered, and he looks at you.

"Please what, doll?"

"F-fuck me, please..."

Negan chuckles, shaking his head.

"Don't think I'm going to do it before I fuck that pretty little mouth of yours..."

You moan at his words, imagining what it would be like to suck his dick, and you smiled.

"Let me suck you then, please, I want to taste you."

He smiled, there's no way he could deny a request like that, especially since you look so pretty asking for it. Then, Negan gets up, and you quickly do the same, kneeling in front of him, "Goddamn baby, are you that desperate for me?" you nod quickly, clumsily opening the button on his pants as he took off his jacket and t-shirt, throwing them on the bed. He had to help you remove hid pants, as your hands were shaking, making him more turned on than ever to see you so desperate to suck him.

As you pull down his pants, you see his dick almost slipping out of his underwear, and you quickly take off that last piece of clothing, his dick almost hits your face, and your mouth waters when you see it, he really wasn't lying when he talked about how big his dick was, you didn't know if you'd be able to make it all fit in your mouth.

You licked the tip, staring into his eyes, which sparkled as he looked back at you. You licked his entire length, and sucked the pink tip gently, making him let out a sigh. You spat on his dick, letting your saliva run from the head to the base, and began to slowly masturbate him, sometimes licking the head, teasing him, but you saw that he was getting impatient with so much teasing and little real action, so you take as much of his cock as you could in your mouth, and he moaned softly, grabbing your hair. You knew he would want to control it, so you opened your lips in an O shape and now he could make you suck him the way he wanted.

The hold on your hair became tighter, and he began to move his hips back and forth slowly, fucking your mouth. You didn't take your eyes off his. Negan quickly increased his speed, but he wasn't going deep enough to choke you, well, not yet.

He stopped for a few seconds, letting you run your tongue all over his cock again, and then he started moving again. His tip started to hit the back of your throat, and he stopped, forcing his cock deep, making you choke and your eyes water, but he didn't take it off, you tried to make him move away, but you couldn't, he stayed like that for a few more seconds, and took his dick out of your mouth, making you take a deep breath, still looking at him.

You kissed the head of his cock, and once again he fucked your mouth, his balls hitting your chin, while his tip reached the back of your throat, until you got used to it and stopped gagging. The noises he made were like music to your ears, he moaned hoarsely and praised you, pulling your hair hard.

When his orgasm hit him, he left his dick buried in your throat, his cum filling your mouth and you swallowed it all. He took his dick from your lips, and lifted you up, holding your chin. "Open your mouth for me, sweetie." you obeyed, and he smiled proudly, "That's it, darling, you swallowed it all", he kissed you deeply, feeling his own taste in your mouth, but he broke the kiss too quickly, biting his lips as he looked at you.

"Lie face up on the bed." you obeyed again, he opened your legs and removed your sweatpants, looking at the puddle in your panties.

"Damn, sweetie... You're soaked. That's all for me, huh? How cute." you just nodded, and he teasingly brushed the tip of his dick against your pussy, which was unfortunately still covered by your panties.

"Negan..." you're almost begging.

"What, princess?"

"P-please..."

"Please what? Use your words."

"Fuck me, fuck me until I can't barely walk." you begged, and he ripped your panties, throwing them away, and penetrated you deep without warning, making you feel like you've been torn apart, and you moan with him.

"Damn baby, you're exactly how I though you would be, so fucking delicious..." he moans, starting to move, not caring if it was hurting you or not, because he knows that that annoying pain will soon become immense pleasure.

He picked up the pace quickly, thrusting into you deep and hard, almost drooling as he heard your moans and saw your breasts swaying in rhythm with his thrusts.

He leaned over you, getting into a position that made him hit your g-spot again and again, making you almost scream as he was going as fast as he could. You hugged him, and he began to leave marks on your neck as he fucked you violently, one hand on one of your breasts and the other holding your hip so hard that it would mark you.

You feel a delicious and somewhat desperate feeling in your stomach, your orgasm coming quickly, making you bite his shoulder hard while scratching his back, your liquids dripping down his cock, making him moan as your pussy got even wetter now.

Your breaths were labored, and just by the way he moaned and fucked you, not caring that you had just reached your peak, you realized he was close too.

He went to take his dick out of you when the time was coming, but you didn't let him, you want him to cum inside you.

"What a naughty girl, do you want me to fill you up?" you nodded desperately, looking deep into his eyes, and so he did, He continued fucking you until he came and filled you, making you throw your head back at the sensation.

He slowly came out of you, and took two of his fingers to your pussy, taking some of his cum that was mixed with your juices, and brought it to your lips, you opened them, and sucked his fingers, tasting your mixed fluids.

He smirked, and looked at your pussy, his cum dripping from it, and he pushed back inside.

"Keep my cum inside you, sweetie." you just nodded, looking at him, his hair is wet, and his breathing labored, just like yours.

He lay down next to you, and you quickly hugged him, resting your head on his chest, sighing.

"That was so fucking wrong" you muttered, and he nodded, shruging.

"It was, but I don't give a fuck."

"Yeah, me neither."

[buckysugar]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

--

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

--

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

[snail17]

A short fic about little Megumi having a nightmare, and Gojo caring (He's a good dad).

Megumi woke in the middle of the night, from a bad dream. The young seven-year-old was upset and couldn't go to back to sleep, so he got up. His footsteps were light and quiet on the tiles as he headed towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

Once he had sufficiently hydrated himself, young Megumi was unsure what to do. He didn't want to go back to his bed alone, and he didn't want to disturb Tsumiki’s sleep, so he decided to do the next best thing.

Go to Gojo.

With careful, measured movements, Megumi crept down the hall and opened Gojo’s door. His small face was etched in a frown. Gojo was fast asleep, lightly snoring with his long limbs stretched out across the bed.

Megumi leaned over and poked his cheek, trying to wake the sleeping man.

Gojo suddenly shifted, his eyes opening slowly as he yawned. He sat up a bit, leaning on his elbow and blinking to adjust to the darkness. He saw Megumi standing there silently. He frowned, slightly confused and still half-asleep.

"Megumi? What's wrong, buddy?"

"I had a nightmare," Megumi mumbled, looking down. His voice was small and soft as he fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. Gojo sighed, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

"Come here."

Megumi didn't protest, and instead quickly climbed onto the bed, crawling next to Gojo. The older of the two pulled the boy closer, wrapping an arm around him. Gojo's presence had always made Megumi feel safe and secure.

He was the strongest, after all.

"What was the nightmare about?" Gojo asked, his voice gentle. He was used to having Megumi come to him after a bad dream, but he always made sure to ask what the dream was about, just to make sure everything was alright.

"There was a big monster," Megumi huffed, clinging onto Gojo's shirt. "It was chasing me."

Gojo frowned, his protective instincts kicking in. He gently hugged Megumi tighter, running a hand through the boy's hair.

"It's okay, it was just a dream," Gojo reassured, his voice low and soothing. "Monsters can't hurt you. Not when I'm here."

Megumi nodded and yawned, his eyes going half-lidded as he leaned into Gojo's touch. He felt a bit embarrassed at coming to Gojo for something so stupid, but he was only a child.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Gojo chuckled softly, a small smile on his face.

"Of course you can, kiddo."

Gojo rearranged the blankets, laying back down on the bed and pulling Megumi against him. The boy snuggled into Gojo's side, his breathing starting to even out as he relaxed.

Gojo continued to run his hand through Megumi's hair, holding him close and watching as the young boy drifted back to sleep. He couldn't help but feel a surge of tenderness and protectiveness towards the young child in his arms.

"Sleep well, kid," he whispered, his eyes softening as he gazed down at Megumi.

Gojo gently rested his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. He knew that he'd sleep restlessly, keeping one ear open in case Megumi needed him again during the night.

For now, he just held the young child close, his arm protectively wrapped around him.

Gojo lay there for a while in the silence, just holding Megumi and listening to the sound of the boy's soft breathing. He couldn't help but smile a little as he felt Megumi's small hand gripping onto his shirt, even in sleep. It was a silent reminder of the bond he had formed with the young boy.

It was times like these that Gojo truly felt like a father figure to Megumi. He felt a deep sense of responsibility and affection towards the young child, and he would do anything to protect him.

He'd do everything in his power to protect that bond.

[theemporium]

wait wait wait i just saw the slumblurb party!!! sooo cuteee!!!!

how about 🧸 with daniel and kiddo having a nightmare so they come to your bedroom for cuddles and Danny makes everything better 🥺

-🦡

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Daddy?”

The hour was late. It was long past midnight, it was completely dark outside—pitch black. And it didn’t help that the recent storm had thunder booming, lightning flashing and rain pattering down on the windows since earlier that night. It was a lot stronger than any of them expected. It only got stronger over the late hours. 

It hadn’t been bad when Jasper Ricciardo went to sleep. 

The same couldn’t be said now. 

Maybe it was the howling wind or the branches hitting his window. Maybe it was the flashes of bright light whenever lightning struck or the creaking of the house as it battled the storm. Maybe it was the scary dream he had of a monster breaking into his room as he cried for help.

Or maybe it was all of the above that led little five year old Jasper rushing to your bedroom, clutching onto the little lion teddy his favourite uncle gave him.

Daniel thought he imagined the door to the bedroom opening. He assumed it was a noise from the wind outside, that his sleepy brain was just playing jokes on him. But then he heard soft footsteps pattering against the wooden floor and a small hand tugging on his arm. 

“Daddy? Are you awake?” 

It took him a few seconds to blink his eyes open and focus on the sight in front of him, but when he did, he was wide awake. He took in his son, the teary eyes and the slightly pale face and the way his knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding onto his teddy. He took in the way the boy was sniffling and shaking, the way he looked far younger than his already young age.

“Hey buddy,” Daniel murmured as he quickly sat up, reaching for the small lamp on his bedside table. “What’s wrong?” 

“I–” Jasper opened his mouth but the words got caught in his throat, like he was too scared to admit anything. 

“You can tell me,” Daniel assured him, reaching a hand out for the boy to come closer. “Daddy won’t judge.”

Jasper still looked doubtful. “Badger promise?”

Daniel smiled a little. “Badger promise.”

The boy hardly wasted any time as the words rushed out of his mouth like a dam opening up. “I had a bad dream. It was a scary dream. I didn’t like it. And I know I’m supposed to be a big boy but it—”

“Hey, even big boys get scared,” Daniel told his son as he wasted no time in reaching for the boy, pulling him up onto the bed until the young boy was curled up on his lap and nuzzling himself as close as he could to his father. “I get bad dreams that still scare me too. And do you know what helps?”

Jasper looked up at him with big, brown eyes. “What?” 

“Cuddles,” he said before giving his son a squeeze. “What do you say? Do you and lil Maximus wanna sleep here tonight?”

Jasper looked down at his lion teddy before looking back up at his father. “Can we?”

“Of course you can,” Daniel said with a smile as he lifted the duvet, helping his son slip under before he reached to turn the lamp off. “We can protect each other from bad dreams and monsters.” 

“You can beat any monster, daddy,” Jasper whispered as he nuzzled into his father’s side, the lion teddy squished between their bodies. “You’re stronger than them.”

His chest tightened with pride. “Hell yeah, I am. And you’re gonna grow up to be just as strong. And then me and you will protect mummy together.”

“I think mummy is stronger than both of us,” Jasper admitted and Daniel didn’t hide his snort.

“Yeah, I think so too, buddy.”

.

[lunajay33]

Secrets🕊️

Summary: You’re Sam and Deans sister and have been seeing Castiel behind their back, but what happens when you need to come clean when you find out yours and Castiels time together creates a little surprise

Pairing: Castiel x f!reader Winchester

•Masterlist•

Holding the pregnancy test in my hand felt surreal, if someone told me a few years ago that I’d be back to hunting monsters with my family and pregnant with an angels child I’d think they were crazy, but here I am in another motel bathroom, my brothers in the other room working on a case as I’m having a whirl wind of thoughts over take me

After some time I take a deep breath and put the test in my back pocket coming to terms that this secret Cas and I have kept under wraps needs to come to light, sneaking around always made things between us more fun but we also wanted to be able to just be together without the stress of Dean trying to kill Cas or their disapproval, plus with how many enemies were after Castiel it just felt safer to keep it a secret, a year long secret

I walk out of the bathroom fiddling with my hands sitting on one of the two beds

“Hey you okay kiddo?” Dean always called me that, he always sees me as that little sister who looked up to him when dad was away, which makes me feel even more guilty

“Can I talk to you guys for a moment” they instantly got up from the small motel table in the corner and sat on the bed across from me giving me their full attention

I never thought I’d be scared to tell my brothers something, Sammy was always the sweetest little brother and Dean always tried to protect me like it was his only mission in life

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Sam asked, worry written all over his face

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you guys just please promise me you won’t be disappointed in me” my chest was heavy and my stomach is bubbles of anxiety

“What did you do” Dean groaned but I know he’s just worried

I pulled out the pregnancy test and handed it over they immediately went wide eyed

“Is this real?”

“How the hell did this happen I don’t even ever see you flirt with anyone at bars, you don’t even look to the side of anyone” Dean sighed

“I don’t just go around hooking up”

“Then what? Is this the new Jesus?”

“Yeah about that…….”

“You can’t be serious” Sam said shocked

“What no it’s not immaculate conception, we wanted to wait and ease you both into this, we wanted it to just be the two of us for a bit but now with the pregnancy I can’t not tell you both any longer”

“We? You’ve been seeing someone?” Dean asked confused

“It’s C….” Before I could confess Castiel himself popped into the room making a bee line right to me, not even acknowledging Sam and deans questions as to why he was there, and kneeled infront of me holding my hands that were in my lap

“Y/n you haven’t answer my calls for almost 2 days do you know how worried I’ve been” he stated with those puppy eyes I feel in love with

“I’m sorry I’ve had a lot on my mind, there’s something I need to tell you too” whenever I was with cas it felt like we were in our own little bubble of love, completely forgetting why I was sitting on this bed in the first place

“You can’t be serious, you and Castiel? How long has this been a thing?” Dean said standing up now

“It’s been a year Dean, she is the love of my life, it was meant to be” Cas said matter o factly as he stood

“A year? You’ve been sneaking around for a year? How the hell did we not notice this Sam?” Sam just shrugged his shoulders

“And now you’re pregnant with an angel how is this going to end?”

Of course Dean had to be the one to blurt it out, Castiel turned to me wide eyed looking at my still flat belly no sign of a bump

“You’re with child? With my child?” He asked bewildered as he held my hips

“Are you mad?”

“Of course not, I love you and I’ll love this baby, you’re all my family now” I laid my head against his chest letting his warmth calm me down as he held me

“It’s going to be crazy to get use to but congrats guys” Sam said patting my back

“You better watch over them Cas or I swear to god” Dean groaned as he took a sip of his beer

After 8 and a half months it was time to pop, laying in a hospital bed with Sam and Dean sitting on the couch by my bed anxiously, of all the monsters we’ve fought this seemed to trump them all

“DEAN WHERES CAS?” I scream as another painful contraction courses through me

“I don’t know honey, I’ve been calling and praying” he says panicked as he gets up and dabs a cool cloth against my face

“I’m scared, what if the baby is an angel and it rips me apart, what if Cas can’t save me and I don’t get to say goodbye”

“Hey don’t talk like that you’re going to get through this, you’re a Winchester” Sam said trying to be supportive

A wosh of wings sounds through the room and Castiel is there by my side

“I’m sorry some demons had me I got here as fast as I could”

“It hurts so much, make it stop” I whimper as he presses two of his fingers to my forehead immediately easing my pain

“The child is already stronger than I had hoped”

“What does that mean? Will she be okay?” Dean asked his eye brows pinching together

“I will have to dull its powers until she has given birth” he worked his magic and the pressure lessened before I felt the urge to push

Everything happened so fast, the doctor came rushing in helping guide me as cas kept dulling my senses to get rid of the pain when a cry brought me back to reality

“Congratulations on a beautiful baby girl” the doctor said laying her in my chest before giving us space

Sam Dean and Castiel surrounded my bed all looking at this little bundle of bright life, she opened her eyes and all that emitted was bright white and blue light, like when cas would go supernova

“She’s beautiful, she looks just like you”

“Except for the glowing orbs” Dean stated

“Yes well that will fade over time as she grows but she will still have powers”

“What’s should we name her cas?”

“She looks like a Pam” I couldn’t help but laugh at such a name for a baby

“How about Samantha, and maybe the next one could be after Dean” I smile up at my two brothers who had tears in their eyes

“I think it’s perfect, you’re perfect”

“You did good sis, we’re proud of you”