#cRYING kneeling on the floor

[fishy-lava]

started having a panic attack earlier but then my brother started playing slim shady in the living room and it was so random it successfully distracted me enough that I calmed down

[lucrezianoin]

my favourite videogame

i miss you

[northwestofinsanity]

Not sure if ibuprofen and sheer force of will is going to get me through my shift this time... Maybe half an hour in a hot car just to listen to some music will help me work up enough to last another six hours?

[cmncisspnandmore]

Nothing breaks Simon’s heart more than seeing you cry.

He hates it, it makes his skin crawl, and he feels helpless.

He watches the tears roll down your cheeks, leaving shiny streaks down your face. Your eyes red rimmed as you wipe at them furiously with your hands.

He feels terrible as he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. One hand on the back of your head pressing your face into his large chest. The other around your waist, holding you tightly against him.

His grip tightens when your knees give out, both of you slowly sinking to the floor. Until he’s on his knees trying to hold you together, trying prevent you from shattering to pieces in his hands.

His lips press to your hair as he rocks you slowly back and forth. Soft murmurs fill your ears as he tries to assure you that it’ll be okay even though he knows it very well might not be.

He holds you, long after his legs start to ache, his muscles tense from being in the same position for so long. He listens to your sobs quiet, your breathing slowing as you manage to calm down.

The soft “sorry..” that comes from you makes Simon feel sick. You should never apologize for showing emotion, for being human. For experiencing sadness.

Rage bubbles in his chest as she listens to you try to explain your emotions away, listens to you apologize for “falling apart” and saying “it won’t happen again.”

Simon suddenly wants to rip whoever made you feel like you couldn’t express hurt to shreds. To feel them shake beneath him as he makes them take back what they said to you. Makes them say sorry for making you feel like you weren’t allowed to cry.

But he doesn’t show you how upset he is that someone had made you feel like you can’t cry. He doesn’t tell you hoe his knees have gone numb from kneeling on the hard floor. He just continues to hold you, his arms sore.

As you collect yourself all Simon wants to do is see you smile. To see your lips turn up in even the smallest smile. So he does what he does best in situations like this.

“What do you call an angry veggie?” He asks, pulling back ever so slightly so he can see your face.

“Uh…” you pause, your face scrunched slightly, “what?”

“A steamed veggie,” he grunts, and for a moment he’s worried he said the wrong thing. But then your lips twitch, and a small smile breaks out on your face. along with a dramatic roll of your eyes has Simon letting out a small breath of relief.

Simon hates to see you cry, but he also loves being the one to make you smile after.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, omegaverse, forced bonding is implied, subjugation, some type of sexism, soft dom, but extremely patronizing

♡ fem reader

You offer to go down on him for the first time since he claimed you for himself, and his heart swells with all sorts of bliss—shock and awe, love and pride—utterly overjoyed at the pretty sight of you, so pliant and on your knees, acting like a proper Omega for a change—his cutest little mate. It’s so adorable he ought to take pictures, yet he doesn’t want to miss a thing or spoil the mood—after all, you always get so embarrassed when he brings the camera out.

So he settles for just watching—his adoring eyes resting on you, admiring how you struggle to fit all of him inside your mouth, thinking it’s the just cutest and sweetest how you try so hard for him. Bless whatever brought this new change of behavior on. He can’t be grateful enough.

It was only a couple of days ago when you’d still bite and claw and run away from him at every turn, growling and snarling like a rabid wildling and not the sweet Omega he knew you could be with the proper love and care. Maybe it’s just that—has his love for you finally tamed you? Oh, he couldn’t be more pleased if that’s it.

Look at you… trying your very best. He didn’t mind if you could only fit half of him—just seeing you try to take it all made him more than happy. The way your pink tongue slides along his veins—all teasingly and ticklish—makes him smile while looking down at you. Petting your head in smooth, encouraging strokes—reminding you to breathe every now and again.

He even pinches your cheek when you cough, crooning, “Careful now, there’s no need to rush, baby—take it slow.”

You curse him from where you kneel at his feet, trying to get it over with quickly. Despite your struggles, he seems pleased, and you think you might have managed to get yourself off the hook. That is… until he wraps his cock with one of his big hands and pulls it away from you. 

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says in his best attempt at sounding suave by nature, and yet, as you look up at him, you see it plain as day.

It makes your guts fold—the eagerness that encompasses him as he looks down at you with kind eyes and a smile—not completely able to hide the frenzy behind it.

No, please, you sulk inwardly—your clit is so sensitive from yesterday, you think you might die if he toys with it again today. You almost indulge the urge to scoot back, attempt to crawl away, and hide in false hope. But you know, chasing you around would just serve as kindling to his inner animal—he would take it as a game, hunting and pinning you down only to lick you clean like a dug-up bone.

You shudder at the thought and almost beg him to allow you to continue, almost insist you can do better, but all you manage is to bite your tongue and cry instead.

“You did so good, baby, don’t pout,” he coos, cradling your face and lifting it up to let him kiss it silly—chastely yet excessively—quick pecks all over, the same way you’d kiss something that’s just too cute for its own good.

It’s his way of comforting you, you suppose, or it might just be him poking fun. You can never really tell with him—if his coddling is all some act or something even more unsettling. But you suppose it doesn’t really matter either.

“Come here, baby, and I’ll do the rest, okay?” he asks, and yet it isn’t a question as he hauls you up off the floor and repositions you as he sees fit—on your back, belly-up beneath him.

His alpha pheromones are quick to overwhelm you, thick and suffocating, pouring over you in waves, drenching you in sweat and something else—something that makes everything sensitive.

The former fight you had when you were still independent has all but left you completely—siphoned from your being every day that’s passed and left you soft like the rest of those Omegas you vowed you’d never become—weak-willed with a body even more so. You feel like a stuffed animal at this point, full of cloudy cotton with a broken voice device that only knows how to squeak when played with.

He takes you beneath the knees and folds them down neatly by your head—one large hand taking both your summoned ankles in a single grip—and you’re locked in, unable to do much else other than pant—kept from breathing too much by the weight of your own thighs pressing down on you.

This had been what you were trying to avoid—this awful position which he seems to love just as much as you dread.

He whistles in awe at the pretty sight of you—all squished beneath him like that—face flushed, and your bloated lips parted with cute little draws of breath—tits bunched together, glossed in a sheen of sweat and heaving with the labored rise and fall of your chest—and that adorable cunt, wet and puffy, swollen up like a pink pillow eagerly waiting for him, a soft bed for his cock and a perfectly bite-sized slice of his favorite cake. His gut rumbles, and his mouth soaks. To think he hasn’t had a single taste all day—he’s beyond starving.

You squirm under him, and he chuckles again, this time breathily—showing more of the unsightly animal with the low growl that seeps into his voice, “Such a pretty girl…” It’s unclear if he’s talking to you as his inkwell eyes are set on something else. He sags forward, back hunched as he bows down to face the object of his desire with only a hair’s breadth of separation—breaths thick, puffed hot against you—canines bared in an eerie smile. “So shy…”

He ignores your wiggling completely—pinching the chunk of cunt where your clit hides, making it peak forth like a little button to press, and his grin broadens.

“There it is,” he licks his teeth with a raspy sigh—eyes wide and deadset. “My beauty.”

You squirm a little more, even though you know you’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t waste much more time—not allowing you to prepare. Keeping the pinch, he opens his mouth wide and takes the chub with eyes closed, tongue flattened and wide, cloaking your exposed clit with thirst. “Mmgh…”

He always gets like this—cute-aggressive and pussy-whipped. It’s as if he and your cunt have their own private affair, the way he completely ignores you. No, that’s not entirely fair—he gets like that when feeding you his tongue as well, but you suppose it’s easier making out with your pussy as it doesn’t need to get up for air. 

Neither does he, it seems.

He groans loudly and releases your clit from his pinching grip—but keeps his whole mouth on you—lips, tongue, and all—nose and chin too, buried there while his hand moves down to slip three digits inside, filling you up with little regard to the stretch.

Your breath flares and shudders with a whimpery moan, toes curling along with his fingers, biting your lip at how he hooks them right into the soft spot of your gummy walls, then fingerbangs you fast, right down to the knuckles each time.

“Fuck, baby—so, so good, always so good,” he slurs out into you, tongue otherwise too engaged to bother sounding coherent, yet you understand nonetheless, even though you can never really get used to it—how utterly unashamed he is. “Come on, baby, cum f’mo—cum on my face—” he all but happily begs, tongue out, slurping your slit brazenly.

He’s not a very classic Alpha—how he worships you on his hands and knees with a throat full of plead and praise. He doesn’t even touch himself—cock left hung and bobbing against the bedsheets, hard and strung up with a net of veins, pilling pearls of pre that all go to waste—too busy with you. 

It’s stupid how you’re the one who ends up feeling ignored as the unwanted and overwhelming pleasure manhandles you into submission.

“Cum, baby, give it to me.”

You mewl as his tongue draws something out from within you, making your clit blare and thrum with your heartbeat. You struggle to enjoy it, you always do, feeling forced to surrender, and yet the more you try and deny it, the firmer his hold gets, relentless as he sends you right over the edge. You yelp and seize up once it takes you—clenching tightly around his digits as they unknot your insides, turning you into utter putty in his palm. 

And even then, he doesn’t stop—as if he doesn’t know how—sighing with elation as you quake on his tongue. That crooked smile on his face, nothing short of predatory and vile as he maintains the motion of his fingers, moaning in turn at your cute spasming and all the wordless babble that leaves your lips as you shake your head, crying for him to leave it alone. “Plea’ no more—stop, too much—”

He just chuckles against you—you really are too cute for your own good. Silly little Omega, don’t you know what your pheromones do to him? But okay, fine, since you asked nicely. He gives the slit one last thorough lick before wiping his smile while sitting up.

You haven’t even started coming down when he dabs the weight of his shaft upon the sensitivity, cooing at the lewd little plaps it makes, all slick as he slides the length between your flustered pussylips—fucking through the fat of the mound, running over your full clit, again and again, while listening to you squeak more nothings.

He only croons, “Yeah, I know you like that, baby—this pretty pussy of yours just loves my attention, doesn’t it?" His eyes seem to glow with something sickly, his voice thin, just shy of unhinged. "Always so cute, I could die.”

He can’t get over it—you’re too adorable like this. Watching you pleasure him was a welcome surprise, but ultimately, this is how he always wants you—flipped and pinned with your cunt exposed to his every wish—his favorite toy that never disappoints.

“Your pretty pussy’s always such a crybaby, y’know that? Look how it weeps f’mo—so needy to get stuffed. I bet you want my knot, huh?” he keeps mumbling while using his cock to play with your overworked cunt without yet entering it. “Alright, baby—don’t worry—I’ll give it to you,” he rasps, drooling.

You can’t keep from whimpering when the bed jostles, accounting for his repositioning as he moves to mount you with his feet planted down flat on the bed. Your ankles are pinned passed your head at this point, tipping your cunt up higher than your head.

“Yeah—I’ll give you what you want.” His voice darkens, and so does the look in his eyes—soaked in something you don’t like—something wild and downright terrifying. “And I’ll give it to you good.”

You almost protest, but you know there’s no getting through to him—not with that expression. You hate Alphas, you hate him, and you really hate this awful pose—this mating-press pile-driving overkill where he always bullies into the backroom of your cunt, insisting on fucking your cervix as he digs his cockhead right at the mouth of your womb, knotting you and filling you up with the full worth of his load. It never fails to make you feel utterly wrecked and bedridden in the morning.

But he doesn’t care about that. You have no places you’re supposed to be anyway—nowhere aside from right here, in his bed, where you belong—his sweet Omega bride who’s going to give him lots of pups.

He lines himself up, pressing his head past the ring—watching it swallow around him and biting his lip at the sight. “Look at it, baby—look as I stuff that perfect pussy all the way up—”

He sinks in slowly, revering your cunt for every inch you receive—watching it in awe as it takes the entirety of his length right down to the base. It’s like a magic trick how it all disappears—you’re so tiny, and yet you’re built for this, to take every part of him in, hugging his shaft with velvet heat, milking him as he kneads the spot inside you that always makes you cry out so good for him.

“Yes, baby—that’s my girl—take it all,” he coos, all but sitting on your ass with his cock down your cunt. “It’s like your pussy’s made for me, isn’t it? Perfectly tight, perfectly deep, perfectly wet and chunky to feel like I’m fucking heaven itself—”

You feel no different from a toy when he does this—a squeaky toy manufactured for a Chihuahua puppy, yet mistakenly given to a full-grown Rottweiler. He straight dogs your cunt through several peaks—so soaked now that it fossettes down both the slope of your belly and the cliff of your spine. And still, he keeps going, rambling on like usual—all words that fail to reach you.

You’re so lightheaded you’re on the brink of passing out—overheating and out of strength, numb and tingly, beyond happy when you finally feel his knot swell within, propping you to take his seed. 

He keels over—his thighs pressed down tightly atop yours—panting above you—eyes half-mast and glazed, almost crying in bliss while feeding you his cum, knowing it's flooding your womb, breeding you full of warmth and love.

“Yes, every drop, baby—it’s all yours.” He keeps a thumb rubbing over your clit as he croons. Voice beyond lovesick, “Let’s make too many pups to count.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[rbfclassy]

SLEEPING BEAUTY! — SUGURU GETO

somnophiliac!getowho loves watching his baby sleep so peacefully whenever he come back late from work. The blankets are hanging halfway off your body, exposing your hard nipples through your tank top. The shorts you have on barely covering your ass. Suguru takes a step forward and kneels down, inhaling your scent before placing a kiss on your shoulder. One kiss turns to three, then five, and before you know it, he’s kissing down your stomach. You just look so pretty, so relaxed, he can’t help himself when it comes to you. His hands squeeze at your tits, running his thumb over your head nipples before his lifting your shirt just enough to see them. His cock hardens, eyes scanning over your figure from above as heat courses through his veins. Not even thirty seconds goes by and he’s in between your legs, your shorts and panties discarded on the floor as he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit. He moans at the way you taste on his tongue, eyes staring at you while he waits for the moment you wake up and he can hear your pretty whimpers. He inserts two fingers inside you, sliding in with ease, reaching your g-spot. “Taste so good, baby. Ah, my beautiful fucking girl.” He places soft kisses on your swollen clit. He chuckles lightly when you start to squirm, brows furrowed.

He knows you’re having a wet dream right now from how wet you are, soaking his fingers. He pumps his fingers faster, stroking your g-spot each time as his tongue circles around your clit. He’s devouring like his last meal, eager to make you cum. “Sugu—ah!” You whimper, tiredly. He stares up at your half lidded eyes, a smirk forming on his face. “Baby, wh-what are you—oh fuck,” you pant, hands instinctively gripping on his hair. He doesn’t plan on stopping, knowing you’re so close to cumming on his tongue. “Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbles. Your eyes roll back at the overwhelming pleasure, your body felt like it was on fire. “Didn’t mean to wake you, but you looked too good to resist,” he kisses down your thighs before diving right back in, the flat of his tongue running up your clit as his fingers curl inside you.

You’re so extremely sensitive and turned on, your orgasm approaches faster than you anticipated. The feeling comes on fast, like a rush of waves as you brain can do nothing but focus on the way he’s eating your pussy. “Just like that, baby. Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum!” You cry out, pushing his head down. Your legs began to shake as he sucks on your clit and the coil finally snaps. “Ohhhh fuck!” You grip on his hair tightly. “Oh my god! Yes! Yes!” Your eyes roll back as you bask in the pleasure of your orgasm, jaw going slack, back arching off of the sheets. Suguru licks up every last drop, even from his fingers. You lay there, trying to catch your breath until you hear his belt buckle being undone.

“We’re not done just yet, sweetheart.”

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N, on the floor: Go on...without me! Soap, crying and kneeling down beside them: No! We can get through this together, just like we always do! Y/N: There's no time! You must defend our honour. Don't let my death be for nothing! Soap, sobbing: I can't do this without you! Y/N: Goodbye, old friend...*goes limp* Konig, whispering to Ghost: They do realise this is just a dodgeball game, right? Ghost, aiming at Soap: Konig, this is war. Show no mercy

[hoshigray]

suguru and choso making the reader squirt for the first time via reader receiving oral... please and thank u sm hoshibutt 👅

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - breast fondling + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - first time squirting! - pet names (baby, cutie, good girl, sweetie) - reader is a bit self-conscious - mention of saliva.

“How is it, baby? Feeling good?”

“A-Ahh…y-yesss, feels good…Mmmm, so good.”

“Ya hear that, Choso? Keep doing what you’re doing!”

You throw your head back to Geto’s shoulder, who’s stationed behind you, his hands nestled inside your shirt to grope your chest. Meanwhile, Choso kneels on the floor, the pony-tailed man going to town between your legs.

It was meant to be a typical date, spending the afternoon in your boyfriends’ apartment. You could’ve sworn that today entailed some delicious slices of local pizza, video games, and an action movie. However, you might have guessed somewhere down the line that the two men would eventually derail their attention from the television screen into a film of their own…

All three of you were in the living room, your back glued to the front of Geto’s red flannel shirt. The long raven-haired man’s hands fondle your chest lovingly while Choso feasts on your cunt, wet with his saliva lathering your folds with his tongue. He holds your legs apart so the focus on your chasm is easier to maintain.

You screw your eyebrows together at the flick of your clitoris by the wet muscle. “Ohhh, ohhh…!”

“Making cute noises for us, cutie?” Geto kisses your cheek and tweaks your nipples pleasantly. “Your nipples are getting stiff, too.”

Choso sucks your essence after spitting on your labia, flinging his tongue around to gather as much of your taste as he can. He then peers up to see that Geto has lifted your shirt, exposing your chest to the open. He swallows thickly and removes his lips from your vulva, bringing his lips to capture one of the buds of your mounds. You mewl at the contact of his tongue, now swirling around your nipple as he sucks sluggishly.

“Heh, must taste good everywhere, huh?” Geto doesn’t expect an answer from Choso sucking on your tit. Instead, he coats his middle and ring finger with his saliva and travels them down to your folds, pushing them inside with ease and immediately wriggling them around to feel your gummy texture. 

You cry out at the insertion, his digits going faster after a few jagged pushes and pulls. He dwells them further, scraping your insides with his blunt fingertips. And the pace becomes frantic, digging them knuckle-deep at a fast rhythm that has you gripping on Choso’s black tee for support. 

“Gaaahhh, w-wait, slow down!” You’re wailing in pleads. There’s too much going on: Choso sucking on your tit relentlessly, pushing your nipple to the top of his mouth, and grazing it with his teeth. And Geto, playing with the other mound while he pleases you with vaginal stimulation. “N-Naaahh, Christ, wait!” Your body wishes to jerk, but your legs are pushed to your chest, leaving your lower half squirming to no end. Something’s coming! “I-I caann’t—Dahaahh!” 

Geto’s sporadic movements have you whining until he removes them to lick, and Choso releases your nipple to return to your vulva, sucking on your clit and lapping around your urethra and inner lips. Shivers rock your core, and you–unforsakenly–let loose.

Between your legs, you unleash a clear, watery substance, ejecting it into Choso’s mouth. It takes him aback, tilting back to let the liquid spray slightly. However, he returns to lick the glands after a moment, secreting the surprising liquid that still exudes from your system and leaves a watery mess everywhere. Until it stops, it sprinkles all over your inner thighs and surely wets the giver’s shirt.

Violet eyes ventured down and witnessed the entire scene. “Oh, woah!”Three figures stay frigid for a few seconds, assessing what occurred within the past ten seconds. “…I had no idea you were a squirter.”

“Same here,” Choso agrees, licking his lips and wiping his cheeks with his shirt after straightening himself.

“Neither did…I?” You blink, a little too shocked to move. “I-…I’m sorry, I made your clothes wet!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Geto’s hands leave your chest and come to your inner thighs to massage. “It’s normal.”

“N-No, really, though; I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I could even do that; it went in your mouth, and I probably ruined this whole—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Choso palms your cunt to smear the substance you squirted. “That was…pretty fucking hot.”You open your lips to rebuttal, yet impossible as they stun you. The pig-tailed man takes off his shirt and slides his jeans down to his knees, and your breath hitches at his long cock springing out from his bowers. 

“Yeah, it was,” Geto chimes in while the other takes a seat next to him and takes you by the hand. “I’m kinda curious if you can do that again now.”

Awkwardness still has you by the neck, but Choso coaxes you while massaging your ass, sneaking his finger inside to finger. “Mmmph…You–Are you sure?”

“Totally,” Geto chuckles as he stands and strips his flannel shirt. His arms are now out from the white tank top. “Can’t let this opportunity go to waste, right?”

“C’mere, sweetie,” Choso guides you by the waist, the glans of his erect cock pushing onto the entrance of your asshole. You gasp sharply once you feel him add himself, leisurely bringing your ass down to sit on him. After a few seconds of a few bounces on his dick, Geto brings your legs for Choso to hold so your wet slit is out for his vision.

Geto licks his fingers with a dark snicker. “Stay just like that,” the digits skim around your labia until they’re pushed inside. 

You jolt with a shriek, Choso right there to soothe you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good girl.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[bi-writes]

how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?

mail-order bride

the phone is ringing.

he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.

he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.

you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.

but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.

"wot is it, luv, i'm--"

"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.

"oi. wot happened?"

"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"

simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.

"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."

simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.

"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"

"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"

"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"

you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.

you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.

when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.

"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.

"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"

"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"

"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."

your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.

"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"

you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.

"i'll be right back."

you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.

he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.

"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.

"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.

"wot for?"

"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."

simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.

"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."

"b-but--"

"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."

you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.

fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.

when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.

there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.

when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.

[entitled-fangirl]

Flames in snow.

Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader

Summary: the reader and Jace go to Winterfell to gain the support of the North. Cregan is not the same little boy they met all those years ago. But his son is quite similar to his father: his hair, his eyes, his love for the reader.

A/n: based on an ask! also... part 2 in the future?

Masterlist

..................................................

"Prince, Princess," Cregan acknowledged as the Valeryon siblings entered the Hall. 

Jace grinned, his sister trailing behind him.

Cregan had not seen the family in what felt like eons, when they were small children. Now, they were adults. 

Though life had been cruel to them, it did not show. 

"Lord Stark," Jace said in a cheery notion. "I thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful that you have housed our dragons."

Cregan nodded, stepping to them. "The honor is mine. It is not often that the future of the realm steps through Winterfell's threshold."

Cregan didn't miss the way the young woman's brow quirked up at his choice of words.

"We come in the name of Queen Rhaenyra," Jace clarified, not bothering with small talk again. "The rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

Cregan looked confused, and Y/n finally spoke up. 

"Prince Aegon Targaryen II has usurped our mother's throne."

"And you are asking me if I will help fight your war, Princess?" Cregan quirked. 

She nodded.

"Let us not discuss such heavy matters while the dragon riders remain weary. Rest, and we will discuss further on the morrow."

…

The Princess walked the long halls of Winterfell, exploring it herself as the sun began to set. 

She paused her steps when she heard a small cry.

Though she was no mother, instinct kicked in, and she began to locate where it was coming from.

And she found it.

On the floor of the corridor was a young boy, not older than four. He sat and cried, the smallest bit of blood running from his knee.

She moved to him, lowering herself to the ground, "Let me see."

The boy looked up with puffy eyes, letting the woman help. 

A servant rounded the corner, her eyes widening at the sight, "Princess, please… allow me-"

"-That is quite alright. I have it handled." She declined politely. She turned back to the boy, "And what is your name?"

The boy sniffled, "R…Rickon."

Rickon. 

She'd heard that name before.

In her studies from childhood. 

Rickon Stark, the past Lord of Winterfell.

This was Cregan's son.

She let out a breath, "Oh… that's… that's a lovely name. My name is Y/n."

She helped the boy stand and the two walked slowly to the boy's chambers.

"Am I going to lose my leg?" He asked with a sniffle.

"Heavens, no. It takes much worse to best a Stark. Do you believe a mere scrape would take down your father?"

He shook his head, "Papa is strong." He gained a sudden enthusiasm, "One time, he fought a wolf! And… and he took his sword," he mimicked the motion, "and he drove it through its heart!" He looked back up to her. "Have you ever done that?"

She shook her head, "I can't say I have. I don't have a sword."

"Oh, yeah." He said glumly. "You're a girl."

She tilted her head, "Well… I may not have a sword, but I have my own weapon." She paused dramatically, "I have a dragon!"

The boy's eyes lit up, "A dragon?! Papa does not have a dragon."

"Only children with dragon blood get a dragon. You, young Stark, have wolf blood in you. That's something of importance as well."

Finally at his chambers, he slumped in one of the chairs, "But it's not like a dragon."

"No," she countered. "But if everyone had the same blood, what would make each of us special?" She grinned as she kneeled in front of his chair. "You know, dragon blood gets quite cold up here. Do you get cold, Little Lord Stark?"

He frowned and shook his head. 

"Exactly. Wolf blood does not get as chilled."

"Is your dragon here?"

She nodded.

"Can I meet him?"

"Her, sweet boy. Silverwing is a girl."

"Can I meet her?"

She tilted her head, "Maybe before I leave. Until then, let me clean you up and put you to bed."

So caught up in the conversation, he had forgotten his little scrape entirely.

…

"Might I be curious enough to ask why the Princess is roaming the castle at so late of an hour?" Came a voice.

She jumped, turning to see Lord Stark standing with a small grin on his face. "Pardon me. It's not my place to wander."

"It's quite alright. My home is yours for as long as you'll have it."

She nodded, unsure of what to say to the man.

"You've grown," he finally said.

A soft giggle escaped her throat. "We are not children anymore, my lord. I'm afraid we'll never be."

"Aye. But I dare say that is not a bad thing." He tried to hide the way his eyes flit over her frame. His body naturally stepped towards her.

"I… I was quite saddened to hear of the loss of your wife."

Cregan nodded, taking another step. "I know. You wrote me. Remember?"

A warm smile came across her face. "I'm starting to. I do not remember what I said-"

"- 'May there be warmth in the cold, and flames in snow. May you be bundled in comfort anywhere you go. If not, I will ride with my dragon high, to bring it myself when the time is nigh.' "

Her smile faltered a bit, "You remember that so clearly?"

Cregan's felt his heart jolt. "I've always remembered you clearly."

An involuntary breath left her throat. 

The two stared at one another, an obvious tension coming over them. 

"I… I shall return to my chambers," she finally whispered. 

Cregan snapped from his trance and nodded, backing away from her, "Aye. Sleep well, Princess."

"Good night."

…

Things seemed to repeat themselves, because she found Rickon again in that same hall as before. 

"Lord Rickon?"

Rickon's head turned and his face lit up.

Y/n sat next to him, looking at what he had to play with.

It was wooden horses, through beaten from its time in the little boy's hands, they were carefully carved. 

Someone made them with care.

"Might I play with you?" She asked nicely.

A horse was thrusted into her hand.

"Papa does not play with me. He does not want to," Rickon finally said.

"That's not true, boy," she tried to reason. "Your father is just… needed by many people."

"I need him."

She felt a pain in her chest at the boy's honesty.

She understood the feeling very well.

"One day, little lord, you will be just as needed as him, and you will understand. Until then, I'm afraid there's little to help ease the pain."

"You help."

A noise almost escaped her throat. "Yes, but… I am not here forever."

The young boy sighed. 

"I wish you could be."

…

The three stood around a table, trying to come to an agreement on an alliance. 

"I have troubles of the other side of the Wall to consider, my prince. I cannot afford to turn my back to it with winter approaching."

Jace sighed, "What good would guarding the Wall do if there is nothing to protect?"

"Jace," Y/n butted in, "Be reasonable."

Jace turned to her, "Sister, the queen needs an army."

"So does the Warden. He knows his people's needs better than us."

"Thank you, Princess," Cregan offers. His gaze stays on her for a second too long. "I have 2,000 graybeards at your disposal. They've seen far too many winters."

"And you'll not march with them?" Jace asked in frustration.

"I will stay until the time is right," Cregan countered. 

"Stay with Rickon, you mean?" Y/n asked softly. "You're staying behind for him, yes?"

Cregan's eyes mixed with confusion and surprise. "You…"

She flushed. "Perhaps that was too forward of me, my lord. Forgive me."

"No, you…" his eyes softened, as well as his voice. "You are the one he has been discussing so gleefully?"

The confusion shifts to her, "I'm sorry?"

"Rickon, he," Cregan lets out a soft scoff. "He has been completely enamored with someone. I didn't know who it was, I assumed a servant."

Jace turns to her, "What is he speaking of?"

"I have indeed interacted with the boy, but it has not been that life changing for him surely-"

"-My Princess, Rickon speaks of no one but you."

Rickon ran through the doors, going straight to Cregan.

Cregan abandoned the table to catch his son, raising him up in the air, "Good morning, my boy."

Rickon giggled and squirmed in his father's hold.

Cregan let him down and ruffled his hair, "Go on, Rickon. Your papa has business he must discuss."

"You will not play with me?" Rickon pouted.

The tough lord of Winterfell let out a soft breath. "Forgive me, son. Not this morning."

Rickon's eyes flit to her, and they brighten, "Will you play with me?"

"Son, that is the princess you speak to. She has little time for such things."

"No, my lord," she interrupted. "I'd… I'd quite like the change of scenery. This talk to war is getting to my head. Perhaps chats of horses will be better."

Rickon's eyes light up, and he quickly grabs her hand and drags her from the room to play.

Jace is left in bewilderment. "I had no idea."

"Neither did I."

…

A few hours later, Cregan came to collect the two.

He found them in the courtyard. 

"Rickon!" He called out.

The boy's head shot up and he gathered his things and ran to his father. 

Cregan ran a hand through Rickon's hair, noting the way the princess watched the interaction from afar. "Go wash up."

Rickon went to move, then paused. 

"Can princesses live in Winterfell, Papa?"

Cregan froze. "Why do you ask, boy?"

"The princess should live here."

Cregan smiled, "You like to play with her that much?"

"She's my favorite." And with that, Rickon went into the castle.

The princess stood, seeing Rickon leave and Cregan approach. "My lord."

"Please, princess. I would prefer you call me by my name."

"Yes, my lord."

He tilted his head.

"Cregan."

He grinned at her correction, "Much better."

Her gaze moved downwards towards the object in her hand.

Cregan followed and his breath hitched. 

One of Rickon's horses. 

"He ran off before I could return it," she admitted. 

Her fingers ran over the mane of it, and Cregan felt a fire ignite within him, but he pushed it down to speak. "There is time to return it."

"You carved it."

Cregan's head tilted, "What?"

She held it up, "You carved this. Surely you did."

He reached up and took it from her, sucking in a breath with their fingers brushed. He studied the beat up toy, as if recalling a memory. "Aye. I did."

"It's beautiful work," she commented. "You've always… been gifted."

He felt his ears turn a shade of pink. "I thank you, Princess."

When silence fell over the two, Cregan continued. "When I leave Rickon, and I journey to the Wall, I whittle these little things. It gives me something to do, and in turn, gives him a reason to want me home."

"He wants you home regardless."

Something in him broke. 

"I know."

She placed her hand over his. "You're doing the right thing."

"Then why is it so damn difficult?"

She wasn't sure what to say to that.

But she didn't miss the way his fingers shook under hers, and his eyes taking her in as if something had dawned on him.

…

The two had avoided one another after that, only speaking when necessary. 

But it all came to a close on their last day in Winterfell.

"I have a final proposition, Prince Jacaerys."

Jace's head shot up, "Name it."

"I remain Warden, the North keeps its independence as is…"

Jace was on the edge of his seat. "And?"

Cregan smiled. "I have the princess's hand."

Y/n's shoulders stiffened from beside her brother. "W…What?"

"I want your hand, Princess."

Jace was just as confused. "You… You've not stated these intentions before."

"I understand that, but that does not mean they were not there. She would make a beautiful Lady Stark."

"Cregan," she reasoned. "I could not possibly-"

"-These are my conditions." He said it persistently.

"Cregan, this is my sister we speak of, do not-"

"-Jace. Let me speak with Lord Stark."

Jace looked between the two, then excused himself.

When the door was closed, she began to speak. "What are you doing?"

"I am being sincere, my princess. I want you as my wife."

And sincere he was. Hope shone in his eyes as he looked to her. She gave a hinted smile, "And you're sure?"

His eyes shone brightly. "I've never been more sure of something in my life. You bring a light to my boy, and you're a light to me."

"Cregan, this war-"

"-You will fight with your mother, as you wish, and return to me in Winterfell when the time is right."

She studied him for a while, making him sweat despite the constant chill of his home. 

"I'm happy to marry you, Cregan. For our houses. For your son," she paused to take a breath. "For you."

A wide smile spread across his face. "You've done me a great service."

"It is not service to me," she smiled. "It is not a duty or sacrifice. It is what I want."

"Rickon shall be overjoyed."

"I'd rather you be the overjoyed one in this moment."

Cregan grinned again and moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. His voice lowered, "Trust me, I am." He paused, "You've come through on your promise, you know."

She tilted her head to look at him, "And what is that?"

" 'Flames in snow,' " he grinned as his lips brushed against hers, "You've brought me comfort in multitudes."

......................................

A/n: I have some good ideas for part 2

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

[dilfcho]

princess treatment + crybaby!reader w/ toji!

“sit.”

you sniffle, tears staining your cheeks. you rub your face roughly, no longer worried about the state of your makeup now that you’re in the privacy of your own home. toji had already wiped your face the second he saw your red eyes and puffy cheeks, thumbs pulling at the skin beneath your eyes.

when you dramatically plop down on the couch, your dear boyfriend kneels before you, knees placed on either side of your foot. callused hands run down the length of your calf and halt when they reach your ankle. he gently threads the strap of your heel through the buckle, undoing the tight hold it had on your foot. you sigh at the relief, stretching your muscles when he slides the shoe off.

“better?”

you nod, his eyes meeting your tired ones. the scar across his mouth moves with his lips when he frowns at the sight of the eyes you rubbed raw.

he does the same with your other foot, freeing you from the uncomfortable heels you stupidly chose this morning. though, toji doesn’t let you scold yourself, massaging your muscles slow and soft to distract you.

his fingers soon press into the ball of your foot, rubbing the pain away. he slides up, digging just enough into your calf. his broad shoulders are accentuated by the dim light. getting to see him from above only makes him look bigger.

before you know it, his lips are pressed to your knee, placing a quick kiss to it. “need to stop wearing those,” he tells you in dangerously low tone, “as much as i love being on my knees for you, i don’t want it to be because you’re in pain.”

still caught up in his touch and the horrific day you had, you nod silently once again. you can’t muster up the words to agree with him. you wish your tears weren’t blurring your vision so badly so you could see the way his arms flex when he massages you.

another peck, this time on your thigh. he places your feet on his thighs, holding your ankles together.

“too pretty to be crying like this, mama.”

embarrassed, you free one of your ankles to lightly push on his abdomen. “you’re so corny,” you manage to choke out. he’s surprised your voice isn’t more raspy from the sobbing.

“that’s the first thing you say to me?”

he chuckles, placing your legs back on the floor next to him. leaning back on his feet, he stands to his full stature. your teary eyes never leave him, instead tilting your head back to keep the contact as he towers over you.

“let’s sleep, you need it. i’ll carry you.” it’s not a offer. instead, an order. he scoops you up, thick arms sliding under your legs and beneath your shoulders. with ease, he straightens his back and walks you to the bedroom. your arms tighten around his neck, holding yourself close to his chest. he doesn’t really care what makeup you get on his shirt, he just happy he doesn’t have to look at the unbearably sad expression you’ve worn since you got home. he can’t stand to see you like that. if staining his clothes will dry the tears that make his chest tighten, so be it.

“i love you, toji. thank you.” you mumble into his chest. he somehow holds you tighter than before.

“i love you too, sweet girl.”

-

mlist

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[whoskimii]

currently out but i can't stop thinking 'bout satoru :( (am i cooked)

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > satoru x you. fluff! you're both literally made for each other it's disgustingly sweet ⋋_⋌ just two sleepy lovebirds. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

satoru is so, so sleepy. when he woke up, his first instinct was to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. 5:27.

with a sigh, he let himself fall back on the bed, back first. like hell, he was gonna start his day so early in the morning.

when he looked to his side, there you were. lookin' divine under the morning light, sleeping peacefully. your lips were slightly parted, soft, slow breaths filling his ears. he couldn't stop the lazy smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

even unconscious, you made him happy. how was he supposed to let you go ? he didn't want to. never in a million years.

satoru buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your comforting scent. you were so soft it almost made him cry. you were his angel, his treasure. sure, he was the strongest but if you asked him to kneel for you and worship the literal floor you walked on, he'd do it without second thought.

he was already at your feet, anyway. everything you did made him fall harder. you smiled ? he'd take pictures. you laughed ? wait, let him record. you just breathed ? he'd blush, giggle and kick his feet like a schoolgirl with a stupid crush. honestly all you have to do is exist and he's flustered.

so when you stirred awake and opened your pretty eyes, satoru felt himself melting. he smiled subconsciously, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you. "morning, baby..." he mumbled. "mhm... what time is it...?" you asked, which caused him to look back at the clock. "5:30."

you frowned softly, snuggling into his side. "s'too early..." as he heard your sleepy voice, he chuckled softly. "s'too early, huh ?" he echoed. "yeah, you're right. c'mere. i wanna cuddle."

what could possibly be better than cuddling to fall back asleep ? yeah, that's what i thought.

ignoring everything that happened in jjk ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[dragonsholygrail]

The atmosphere is alight with laughter and good conversation. The dinner party your friend decided to host being a raging success. Everyone simply having the best time when a small whine is heard from under the table.

You try and ignore the sound, keeping your eyes on the group as you all talk. But then you feel it. His hand pawing at your crossed knees.

Your Puppy hybrid bf whines a little louder, his hands dragging down your legs as he tries and pries your knees a part. His tongue sticks out of his mouth, drool practically dribbling onto the floor.

He can’t help but whine again, his cock aching if only for your taste. It’s been hours since he was last inside you and every second you refuse him is akin to seven years of torture. His ears fall back and his tail wags violently as he tries to get to your cunt. The scent of your arousal, so close yet so far, quickly drives him insane.

The whines get louder with every passing minute. One by one your friends all turn to look at you, causing a sigh to fall from your lips. You flip the tablecloth up to look at your puppy bf kneeling obediently underneath, his puppy eyes on full display as he gazes up at you.

“I think he’s just hungry,” you say, sending a smile your friends’ way as you smoothly spread your thighs for your bf.

Puppy bf waits until you give his ‘release’ command before burying his face between your thighs, tail now wagging in excitement. Grateful he begged you to go without panties today. His thick tongue immediately plunges into your dripping hole, his slobber only creating a bigger mess for him to lick up.

Your hand threads into his hair and gives a short tug, stuffing your cunt in his face. To which he yips happily and digs his tongue deeper along your walls to swallow as much of your wetness as possible.

“I’ll feed him more when we get home,” you add as you breathe out, a small moan escaping with it. Looking around at your friends you can only hope they didn’t notice.

Puppy bf takes all the food he needs as he devours your pussy like the feast it is. His tongue stuffing you full as he fucks you with it like he would his cock. Your hand tightens in his hair, lips parting as waves of pleasure threaten to consume you.

The lively chatter mingling throughout the table is now without one voice as the only noise you’d be able to make right now is one of indescribable pleasure. Your hips subtly grinding into your Puppy bfs face, meeting every thrust and swirl of his tongue through your folds and deep within your core.

Knowing he can’t use his hands and wanting to be a good boy for you, Puppy bf leans forward, rubbing his nose roughly against your clit. He whines as your scent surrounds him, hips jerking into the air and yearning to feel your pussy around him. But it’s all worth it as you cry out into your glass and a moment later your release floods into his eager mouth.

Puppy bfs eyes flutter closed as he laps up your release, savoring every ounce of your essence. He can feel your thighs quivering against his ears and a possessive pride wells up in him. He nuzzles into your inner thighs, a low rumble in his chest as you start petting him.

Your attention moves back to your friends as if nothing had happened.

[reticent-writer]

Okay The Hashira taking care of a half human half demon baby? Like the baby can survive on human food and animals and are repulsed by human blood. Like the babies basically are found trying to explore new things like Nezuko in a way

Demon slayer masterlist Demons with baby reader

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Shinjuro held you in the air and examined you. Kyojuro left you with his father while he and senjuro went to the market.

Leaving you with a former Hashira wasn't a good idea in hindsight but who would kill a child.

"Half human half demon huh?" He muttered to himself as he watched you move in his arms.

He lowered you to where you were nestled on his chest and he laid back.

Shinjiro and kyojuro came back to see you and their father asleep on the floor in your room.

-------

Giggles could be heard in the Tengen ousehold as it was dinner time.

Tengen was rolling on the floor with you as the girls made dinner.

"Hope the both of you worked up an appetite." Hina came in giggling at her husband on his back with you on his stretched-out feet.

"Ahh lord Tengen you have to be careful with them. They're just a child." Suma came in fusing over to pick you up

-------

Obanai didn't know how to take care of a child so he went to the closest person he knew, Mitsuri.

"Aww look how cute Obanai they eat human food." She gushed as she feed you.

Obanai watched in adoration as he couldn't help but think about how good she is with kids (people in general)

"Cool." Such a shallow response that held back everything he actually wanted to say.

If only he could tell her. (😭)

-------

"What am I supposed to do with you." Sanemi muttered as you crawled all over your temporary bedroom (a small room he didn't know what to do with).

"what do you eat?" He kneeled down to your height. You crawled up to him, using his knees to try and stand.

He poked your stomach causing you to lose balance and fall. You stared up at him, He stared down at you.

you started to huff.

'oh no' the thought 'they're gonna cry'

and cry you did. You screamed your lungs out as he tried everything to calm you down. He even tried to feed you his blood, which only made you scream louder.

He got you to calm down by giving you Ohagi. Turns out you love it almost as much as he does.

------

"Time to go to bed Y/n." Giyuu said as he watched you play with your toys for like two hours.

You turned to him before giggling. Unfortunately for Giyuu, you knew how to run. You stood up and got ready for an unwanted game of tag and hide n seek.

"Don't even try, It's time for bed." Giyuu also got ready as this isn't the first time this happened.

In fact, this happens most nights and Giyuu is always the winner.

You ran out of the room with Giyuu close behind you. You rounded the corner at full speed. Too much speed. You hit the wall. Giyuu was quick to pick you up.

"This is why we don't run in the house." He comforted you by rubbing your head and bringing you to your room. You were asleep in his arms as he laid you down.

------

All Muichirou wanted to do was train but since you were assigned to him his attention was all on you.

Currently, the 2 of you were having a staring contest as you both ate. You copied his movements, and he would just watch.

You never cried, screamed, or made much noise. You and Muichirou got along great.

He brought you to every Hashira meeting and he let you do your own thing.

-----

"Bu" you called to Shinobu from the pin she put you in. It was the only word you could say.

She looked up from her work over to you. You were standing holding on to the bar of the pin.

"Ah someone finally awake." She set her work aside and went to check on you.

"Bu Bu" You squealed as she picked you up.

"I'm here. I'm here."

You were the only reason she never worked herself to death.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[oikasugayama]

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG

NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fyodor

Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.

His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.

"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.

"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"

You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out

"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"

"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."

He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.

"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."

"fyodor..."

"again," he moans, hand working faster.

"Fyodor."

you walk in and close the door behind you.

Poe

You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.

After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom

you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"

you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.

he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--

you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...

a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.

"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"

"that i... i think about you... a lot..."

Chuuya

you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.

until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?

you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.

"are you fucking serious?"

"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.

"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."

"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."

"dude!!!"

"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.

"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are

"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."

"to what... to you jerking it?"

you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"