#it was very soothing and helpful 🥺

[dylanlila]

was on a phone call with my mom and we somehow got to me explaining oncogenetics to her and she was like: i literally understood everything, you're definitely passing this exam ✅

[noxtivagus]

DEATH UNTO DAWN ON SPOTIFY 🥹🫶🏼

[moonstruckme]

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm. 

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move. 

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time. 

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.” 

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple. 

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived. 

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside. 

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you. 

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.” 

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.” 

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest. 

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you. 

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.” 

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.” 

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him. 

You nod, letting him take your injured hand. 

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?” 

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort. 

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach. 

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.” 

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow. 

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you. 

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat. 

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.” 

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless. 

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.” 

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.” 

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile. 

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.” 

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well. 

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?” 

You blink at him. “Feel what?” 

“Good.” 

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed. 

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.” 

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand. 

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?” 

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected. 

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?” 

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?” 

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.” 

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light. 

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.” 

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.” 

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.” 

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?” 

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.” 

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?” 

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out. 

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.” 

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.” 

“Not you?” James teases. 

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?” 

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.” 

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.” 

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.” 

“There?” you echo. 

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly. 

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows. 

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.” 

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face. 

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. 

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.” 

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.” 

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.” 

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe. 

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

[eelnoise]

incandesce

zoro x afab!reader an: just some lovesick drabble because im weak in the knees for my big stinky boy. he's so cute and i wanna just snuggle w him so bad 🥺 cw: fluff :) wc: 1.1k @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @themushroomofdeath

The flash of the morning sun hits Zoro’s face like a white-hot light as he descends from the crow’s nest, freshly exhausted from training. Squinting in the daylight, he looks upon the deck below as it comes into clearer view – silhouettes of the crew fade into focus, and quickly does he scan the scene for a brief headcount. A slight warmth fills his chest, and not from the tide of day washing over the ship.

You’re not among them. You’re still asleep.

Zoro’s boots hit the deck with an audible thud, and heads turn to greet him. He offers a sleepy ‘good morning’ nod before heading right in the direction of the women’s quarters. No one stops him, nor are any words exchanged. They all know where he’s headed, just as they know why you tend to sleep in.

It isn’t often that he gets this opportunity – to join you for a nap. Most days he retires from the watch far earlier than any of the women awake, sometimes avoiding his own bed all together and simply napping in the nest. The odds are in his favor this time, and he means to take full advantage of the very limited time he can have with you. Only you.

No sooner does he creak the wooden door open that his heart skips a beat beneath his ribs. You’re there, just as he hoped you would be, softly snoozing beneath the sheets. Your hair is folded wildly about your face and the pillow beneath your head, and your lips are slightly parted with just a speck of drool glistening down your chin. Zoro can’t help but find you endearing, and seeing you in a deep, restful sleep does something to soften his stoicism. 

He almost can’t bring himself to wake you, as the sudden shift on the mattress always causes you to stir – though you’re never soured by it. Never once do you make him feel unwanted or loathsome, always welcoming into your arms or by your side when he needs you most.

And, while not the most affectionate man, Zoro relishes in the love you give him. The good-willed and honest devotion that you deem him worthy enough to receive makes his head spin. Somehow you had latched onto his sin-soaked soul, cleansing it in your soft, practiced hands and invigorating him in ways long forgotten.

Memories that ache - that wear him down with the weight of the past, present and beyond - they all seem to slip away when he’s next to you. You’re his anchor, reeling him back from the somber reverie that so frequently plays in his mind. A light that burns bright even in the darkest of places, and somehow he always finds his way back to you. Zoro knows that real worth is wordless, actions speaking emphatically over all else.

And you show him that worth.

His worth.

Zoro kicks off his boots, practically tiptoeing his way around the bed to it’s open side – and though he knows it’s fruitless, he does make an attempt to slide in next to you as carefully as he can manage to. And you stir – as if right on cue, the sudden weight pressing into the mattress that rolls you against his chest. 

A sleepy hum of acknowledgement befalls your lips, a small - yet simple - gesture of welcome to the man now aside you.

A hint of a smile etches into the cooks of his mouth as he returns the gesture with a hum of his own before curling his arm around your middle and burying his face into your hair and breathing in deeply. Your body is warm to the touch, and with it comes elation. Oftentimes he appreciates that you had cast the first stone, releasing him from the nigh-torturous, unknown feelings that he couldn’t possibly have navigated alone.

Zoro clings to you, as if magnetically attached around your body. His thumb drags along your tummy, up and down in a soothing yet natural response to being with you. He murmurs a throaty “Good mornin’” against your ear that makes you shiver with longing. Far too little do you get to indulge in his embrace, and though you’re not as tired as he is, you aim to enjoy the time regardless.

“Morning,” You reply, twisting your head just enough to see him and allowing your hand to fall atop his and entwining your fingers together. “How was watch?”

“Same as ever.” He whispers into you, feeling that familiar tranquil serenity blossoming within him. Zoro squeezes your body against him and moves some of your hair out of your face to place a series of pecks to your cheek before trailing up to give you a soft, tender kiss to your lips. 

It hadn’t been easy, learning to love – but with you there, ready and willing to guide him at his chosen pace the whole way through his strained emotions. Not once in his life did he expect to feel this way, a man of action and ruthlessly devoted to his dream and to his course upon it. Zoro once saw life as just that – his own. A narrow pathway in hindsight, one fit enough for just himself at the end of all things.

Though now, the path had forked, widened, and along it do you walk beside him. Every decision, every step, every pinch of ash left in his wake has your name written upon it in dark, permanent ink. Zoro thinks with you in mind, acts with your face at the very forefront of his synapses. He’s grown to adore you, both body and soul.

Part of it terrifies him still. The thought of losing something more precious than words can explain dives deep into his core. In love, there is fear. Fear of loss, fear of weakness in life’s most pivotal moments, fear of losing one's sense of perception. 

Though, there’s also hope. Hope and happiness and support and all else that comes with devoting your very essence to another. Seeing you smile or laugh brings him a peace that borders on inexplicable. The feeling of your hand on his bids him well wishes, each kiss a reminder of sanctuary. Every tangle between the sheets when he makes love to you renders him spellbound - the saccharine, honeyed taste of your skin on his tongue mixed in with those sighs and coos of pleasure that only he can hear, a song that only he can make you belt, it makes Zoro’s head spin with just the thought.

To Zoro, you’re beyond compare. No single person in his life comes even toe-to-toe with you, and as you snuggle against him, he allows himself to feel vulnerable. You’re his safehaven, a blessing in disguise that nabs him by the heart and never fails to lull him into a rejuvenating respite. 

You’re home.

You’re his.

[localkiss]

Plagas Leon is gonna use his little tentacles on you! Isn't that adorable? (Might strangle you, depending on how you see him being infected.)

Had Plagas Leon brain rot with someone else but Plagas Leon with a tail :(( Curled up with him (and a baby cause, uh, I SAID SO.)

He's so cute I can't. <3 (Tell me about your thoughts, please. Give me more BRAIN ROT.)

OMFG GIRL 😭😭!! I would imagine plagas leon to be very territorial, domestic, and like a bit forceful. He would def use his tentacles or his tail to grab you and make sure you're safe behind him!!

(got from Pinterest, creds to lvsterous !)

"Babe, I told you to stay away from those people. They don't smell like nice people," he nestles into your stomach, with a throaty grunt of disapproval. His hands wrap around your waist, nails lightly biting into your skin. Something you've become accustomed to, ever since he came back from his mission.

omfg and Leon constantly needs to touch you, whether it be his tentacles of his tail or a hand on your back. !!!; ahhhh 😫 extra cuddly n loving after he got mad at you. I feel like he needs to put his leg over yours or in between, his arms wrapped around you, and his face buried in your neck to sleep good.

During sex, he would totally use his tail to keep your legs pressed together or pushing one down. Rub your clit with his tentacles 😫while he bends down to spit into your mouth. He likes it messy! Loving the way you look at him while he hits the special part that makes you see stars!! Leon would probably make you look at him while he fucks another orgasm out of you, or while he dumps his cum into you. <3 probably would bite into your shoulder half of the time, letting out low snarls and moans into your skin.

Would get embarrassed if you bring up how loud he is in the bed, his tail wrapping around his thigh to self soothe. Like omg no baby it's hot 😭😭 please moan in my ear!!! 🧎🏻‍♀️

(creds to ciara on Pinterest!)

And if you guys have a baby, I think he would sleep on his back and have the baby on his chest or something cute like that 🥺. Leon would probably dote on you both, constantly buying sweets, new blankets, pillows, etc. whatever makes his mate the happiest, he'll do it!

"Why do you keep telling me to stop buying new things for our bed?" Leon frowns, holding onto your guy's baby.

"I'm trying to keep my mate and baby happy. Do you not see that?" He presses a kiss to the baby's forehead and then a few to your face. He does look a little guilty for buying so many things, but he can't help himself! The dude wants to please you both and keep you guys comfortable and safe, forever.

[dixons-sunshine]

Ok ok ok ok-

I've been struck with a three am idea that I cannot shake so pretty pretty please if your not busy may I request it?

It would be a Daryl x Reader were they are parents of their newborn? Probably set in Alexandria... The baby is up crying and Reader who is very sleep deprived is trying to calm the baby down but nothing is working, and at this point Reader hasn't had a solid nights sleep in a few days? Like, maybe Reader is struggling to put the baby to sleep and the crying starts to get to them and they start crying too? (Not like full on sobs but tears bc their emotional state is damaged from lack of sleep) And Daryl wakes up and helps reader? Like, tucks reader in before taking care of their newborn?

I just can't shake Daryl as a dad he woud try to be the best dad ever just bc he would be so scared to end up like his 'father' 🥺

Please and thank you very much and take care!!

Sleepy Time | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Life with a newborn wasn't easy. All of your attention had to go towards the bundle of life you brought into the world, which left you with little time to take care of yourself and even less time to get some much needed sleep. One night, while taking care of your and Daryl's baby girl, the lack of sleep caught up with you and emotions started to bubble over. Luckily, Daryl was there to take care of both you and the baby—the two most important people in his life.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Sleep deprivation, self deprecating thoughts, feelings of worthlessness, mentions of Daryl's father and his past abuse.

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: I'm sick at the moment and have no energy to write much, but this request was way too cute to not get done ASAP. I've been wanting to write something about Daddy!Daryl for a while now so this request is a godsend. Thank you so much for it! I hope you like this. And to the people who requested the Daryl x Espinosa!Reader and falling for the new girl requests, please know that they're being worked on. I don't know exactly when they'll be out, but they will be, I promise!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(I gave the baby a name in this, but feel free to imagine any name you want.)

—

The moon was shining brightly outside the home you shared with Daryl. The stars were twinkling in the sky and the crickets were chirping. It was a peaceful night and everyone in the community was sleeping soundly.

Everyone but you.

“Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. Mommy's here.”

Despite your reassuring words, your baby girl, Hazel, kept on crying. Her cheeks were red from the tears she shed and her eyes were shut tightly. The sight of your baby in such a state made your heart ache in a way that it has never hurt before.

Nothing you tried could soothe Hazel of her crying. She refused to breastfeed or take her bottle, and her diaper didn't need changing. She didn't appear to be sick and there was nothing that could be hurting her physically, so you were at a lost for what could be troubling her so much. She just kept on crying.

You gently bounced her while rubbing her small back, praying to whatever was out there that you would figure out what was wrong with her. You hated the fact that you couldn't soothe her, feeling useless as she continued to wail. Her cries echoed off the walls of the nursery, the sound deafening.

You hummed a lullaby to her, a last resort in hopes of calming her down. You could feel a lump form in your throat as unwanted tears started to fill your eyes. The lullaby you were humming started sounding choked up as your throat started constricting, trying to withhold the sobs that were busy building up in your chest.

The lack of sleep was busy catching up with you. Not once did you regret your baby girl—Hazel was the physical embodiment of the love you shared with Daryl and you'd die for her—but you desperately needed a full night's sleep. You were barely functioning and that was a problem. How could you take care of your daughter when you could barely take care of yourself?

The sound of the nursery door opening instantly caught your attention, your senses on high alert. You spun around and locked eyes with the love of your life, the familiar blues of his eyes calming you down slightly. The calm you felt was short-lived, however, when Hazel's cries got louder due to the fact that you weren't humming to her anymore.

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and shut the door, quietly moving to stand beside you. Even in the darkness of the room, he could clearly see the glisten of the tears in your eyes. His heart ached for you, and if it weren't for the fact that you were cradling Hazel, he would've pulled you into a tight hug.

“Wha's wrong?” he asked quietly, putting a hand on your shoulder in the hopes of bringing you some comfort.

You sniffled and willed the tears away, hating the fact that Daryl had to see you in that state. “I don't know,” you replied honestly, gently rocking your baby back and forth. Hazel's cries started to die down a bit, and you were grateful for it. “She won't drink and she doesn't need changing, and she doesn't appear to be sick. She just won't stop crying.”

Daryl's heart broke at the crack in your voice. He wrapped one of his arms around you and brought you into a side hug, placing a kiss on your forehead. “S'alrigh'. We'll figure it out. She'll be okay.”

You sniffled again and nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder. Daryl pressed another kiss to your forehead before motioning for you to hand Hazel over to him. You obliged and carefully transfered her into his arms, your heart swelling at the sight of the father of your daughter, who was a big, burly man, carefully and gently cradling such a small human to his chest. You smiled through your tears, a sense of happiness filling you, even though you were feeling worn down and useless a few moments prior.

A small smile spread across Daryl's face as he gazed down at his baby girl. Hazel's cries had disappeared, small sniffles and the redness of her cheeks the only signs that she had been crying at all. Daryl brought his hand up to gently caress her face, before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her small forehead.

You smiled at the sight before you, but you couldn't help the feeling of failure that spread through you. You had been up for over an hour trying to soothe her and hadn't succeeded, but then Daryl came in and calmed her down in a matter of seconds. You were grateful for him and the fact that he had managed to let her cries subside, but you couldn't help feeling defeated.

Daryl gently rocked Hazel from side to side before looking up at you. He could immediately see the pained yet immensely tired expression on your face, and he frowned. He didn't know exactly what was going through your head at that moment, but he had a pretty good idea. After he was sure that Hazel's crying had stopped completely for the time being, he grabbed the pacifier from the dresser and popped it into her mouth before gently placing her down in her crib.

Daryl turned to you and offered his hand. “C'mon,” he said simply.

Confused, you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you out of the nursery and back into your shared room right across the hall. He tugged you over to the bed and silently urged you to lie down, which you did. Once you were comfortable, he pulled the covers over you and sat down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Ya okay?” he asked in concern, his voice quiet as he studied your face.

You nodded hesitantly. “I'm fine,” you lied, and Daryl could tell instantly.

“Yer not fine. Wha's up?” he urged softly, leaning forward to brush the hair away from your eyes.

You inhaled sharply, debating whether or not to tell him what you were feeling. In the end, the need to get everything off of your chest overpowered, and you cleared your throat, trying not to tear up again.

“Am I a bad mom?”

That surprised Daryl. He instantly shook his head in denial, taking one of your hands in his. “Nah, course not. Why would ya even think tha'?”

“It's just... I try so hard to be a good mom but I can't even soothe my own daughter when she cries. Nothing I tried worked. She wouldn't stop crying, yet you managed to calm her down in a matter of seconds. If I can't even comfort my own daughter, what type of mom does that make me?”

Daryl sighed softly. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “Yer not a bad mom. Sometimes babies cry and there ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it. Remember back at the prison when Little Asskicker wouldn't stop crying? It took Rick over an hour to get her to calm down. Would ya say tha' Rick's a bad dad jus' 'cause he couldn't instantly figure out wha' he needed to do to calm her?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Then stop callin' yerself a bad mom. Yer not. There's gonna be days when Hazel will want ya instead of me, and vice versa. It ain't gonna mean tha' one of us is the better or preferred parent 'cause of it.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling yourself want to cry all over again, but this time in relief. However, you withheld the urge and instead settled on giving him a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes starting to feel heavier. You let out a small yawn, making Daryl chuckle fondly.

“Get some sleep, 'kay? Ya will feel a lot better in the mornin',” he instructed, leaning forward to place a feathery light kiss on your forehead.

“What about Hazel?” you asked after hearing her start to get fussy again over the baby monitor Daryl had found on a scavenging trip.

“Dun' worry 'bout her. I've got it. Ya jus' get some sleep, 'kay?” he assured you, getting up from the bed to head out to the nursery.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, nodding your head. However, before Daryl could leave, you called out to him.

Daryl turned around and looked at you. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Daryl smiled softly, his heart fluttering in his chest. “I love ya too.”

With that, he closed the door behind him and made his way over to the nursery. Once inside, he turned on the little nightlight that Michonne had gifted to you when Hazel was born, walking over to the crib to pick her up. Cradling her to his chest, he walked over to the dresser to grab the still full bottle before making his way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

Daryl sat down and brought the bottle to her mouth. This time, instead of refusing it, she eagerly opened her mouth and latched onto the bottle, starting to drain it of its contents. Daryl laughed at her eagerness, holding her gently against his chest as she drank.

“Delicious?” he asked rhetorically, knowing full well that she couldn't understand what he was saying. “Bet it is.”

Hazel simply kept drinking from the bottle, her hands clutching at Daryl's shirt. Daryl stared down at her fondly, wondering how one tiny human could be so perfect.

“Ya need to go easy on yer mama, y'know?” he started, gently rocking back and forth on the rocking chair. “She might seem like it, but she ain't a superhuman. She needs her sleep, too.”

Daryl paused for a moment, simply admiring his little girl for a moment before continuing. “Yer mama loves ya so much, though. And so do I. We won't let anythin' happen to ya, little one.”

Daryl fell silent after that. He simply took care of his daughter, wondering how he got so lucky. Not only did he have the most amazing wife who loved him unconditionally, but now he had a daughter who he would die to protect. He had a family, something he never would've thought could happen to him before the apocalypse.

Daryl looked up and at the door, envisioning you sleeping peacefully in the room across from him, sleep that you deserved, before looking down at Hazel again. As he stared down at the life he made with you, memories of his own father plagued his mind—memories of his abuse and loveless nature. How he never seemed to have any sort of patience when it regarded his own son, how any sort of crying was met with a physical blow to his face.

Daryl grimaced at the memories and shook his head, willing the memories to go away. He always wondered if his father's abusive ways would be passed down to him, but as he looked at Hazel in his arms, he realised that nothing would ever make him be like his father. He vowed to protect the life he had made with you, the embodiment of your shared love for one another. He vowed to himself that he would never stoop to the cruelty his father had bestowed on him. He would be there for both you and Hazel, through thick and thin, through happiness and heartbreak, for as long as death remained away from him.

He would love the both of you until the day that he let out his last breath.

[gojoest]

Satoru being utterly obsessed with boobs since he has mommy issues??? 🤭

He finds them so comforting and maternal, soothing the negligence and being unloved as a child, only viewed and spoiled for his powers/strength..

Thus he finds them so loving and comforting, wanting to smother himself in them/suckle them all the time…

Maybe even help in getting milk outta them iykwim 🫣

(lowkey embarrassed sending this without anon 😭 but love your input sm ai <333)

you are onto something!!!

this has been a hc of mine since forever and i’ve talked about it, that satoru was neglected growing up. but like, in a way where he was pampered and taken care of plenty — whatever he wishes is immediately dealt with, he’s spoiled with the good stuff only etc etc so the attention and the “care” he gets is all very superficial.

he was never genuinely loved by anyone, including his parents and especially his mother. like, if someone were to see him dozed off someplace they’d immediately rush to put a blanket over him but NOT bc oh, he might catch a cold, but rather how can you leave The Gojo Satoru unattended like this, do you know who he is? idk if that makes sense to you but it does to me, like more or so he was viewed as this great asset for the clan that everyone felt obligated to look after and not as a dear son they were to nurse with care, and love, and warmth.

so yea i completely agree :/ that he was never given that deep, unconditional mother love, but the need, the craving, for it resurfaces at some point. maybe this is exactly why something switches in his brain each time the clothes peel off your skin, leaving your breasts exposed and naked. and he gets that very intense urge to just latch his lips on your nipples, and he does. bc he associates them with the nurturing that comes along with the maternal love he was deprived of. this hits even harder if you are the one to take off your bra yourself before the intimate act. like in his eyes, for a moment, you look like a mother that is getting ready to feed their child. and his mouth just instinctively wraps around your nipple — it’s pure reflex tbf and i don’t think he realizes it. he’s just hungry, he’s been deprived of that love, and he is going to take it from you. and he’s sucking with desperation, trying to really get something out of your nipple, while kneading on your other breast, playing with the nipple on it, squeezing it between his fingers to try and get it all hard and ready before switching….

this is why he is absolutely obsessed with your breasts when you’re expecting. bc at some point you start lactating…..and he’s about to get the whole experience…i will lose my mind bye. the way he seeks in you the love and warmth his mother never gave him......that all-acceepting and unconditional love and devotion, this is why he worships you actually...it is bc you give that to him..kdjkfgjsd.....

and omg please no need to be embarrassed !!! 🥺i am glad you enjoy my silly rambles regarding this precious man, he is sooo important to me 🥺

[javigutierrez]

Are you alright, Honey?

Javi Gutierrez x afab!reader oneshot

Summary: You’re going on a long weekend with your gorgeous new boyfriend, and after a day of unresolved sexual tension out on a roadtrip you’re ready to jump him the second you get home. Unless he finds a movie at the gas station he had been looking for for years and he wants to watch it with you. Will you be able to mask your desire for him, to enjoy a movie that means so much to him? (Spoiler alert no you won’t)

Rating & Word count: Explicit | ~8500 words

Warnings/tags: fluffffff, freshly established relationship, pining like whoa, very explicit smut, f!oral, f!fingering, tons of nipple play, non-penetrative sex (sumata ig?), unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, allusions to squirting, pleasure dom!Javi vibes, tw alcohol, tw food mention, Javi is a major dumb of ass but he makes up for it, reader has female genitalia, some boobs, and long enough hair to tuck it behind their ear but no other descriptions (let me know if you find anything else!), no age references

A/N: Here it is, after years of contemplating I'm posting my first fanfic in 12 years and my first fanfic in English ever. Please be kind, English is not my first language ❤ This is a huge thing to me, and I wouldn't have been able to get there without the help and encouragement of my lovely friends - I owe a kidney to @psychedelic-ink and @shellshocklove for their tremendous help as my betas, and to @iamasaddie @perotovar @chronically-ghosted @wannab-urs for listening to my bitching and moaning along the way and still staying my loyal cheerleaders 🥺 The whole idea popped into my mind like a movie while editing this gifset (which was inspired by @prolix-yuy’s Javi story, so special thanks to LJ 🥰), that 5th gif corrupting my mind for the next 2,5 months and this was the only way I could finally get it out of my system. 🤡 I hope you'll enjoy it! ❤

This was quite an eventful day. You spent your whole day out with Javi, having a road trip at Côte d’Azur. After a little bit more than a month of dating you had decided to go on a long weekend together, choosing the French coastlines. You had been absolutely amazed by the experience; clear azure waves embracing golden shores, the streets of seaside towns winding through history with beautiful architecture and warm colours, mountain tops lurking on the horizon behind the town. After Javi had told you he would get you into the Cannes movie festival, you were already talking about coming back for a few days. 

The sights were unbelievable and the food was delectable, but what really made the trip unforgettable was your new boyfriend. Spending time with Javi was so easy. With him, all your anxiety washed away - his sweet and caring personality was like a soothing balm for your soul, and with his fun-loving side, you really felt like living your life to the fullest. Not to mention how he showed his true colors in the bedroom. Absolutely devoted to your pleasure, he could be worshipping you, making you feel like a goddess, other times he would make you beg, then shower you with praises while he was giving you exactly what you needed. Who would have thought only a few weeks before, when​ you had started chatting with a stranger waiting in line at the cinema, that he would sweep you off of your feet almost immediately and turn your life upside down in the best way possible? 

There you were right now, coming home from another amazing day spent with him, laughing with him, staring at his profile while he was driving, smoothing out his sun-bleached locks tangled up by the wind in the cabrio while he was looking at you all doe-eyed and dopey-smiled. You were holding his hand, feeling his hand on your bare thigh, resting at the hem of your bunched-up sundress comfortably and sometimes you had caught him looking at you with the same intensity. It was safe to say, by the time you got in the car to get home you were ready to jump him. 

There was only one tiny thing you hadn’t calculated for when you had been planning your night (or rather imagining it dreamily from all angles): finding a DVD at a gas station. When his eyes fell on the item, he’d looked confused for a few seconds, but then taking it from the shelf and reading the cover his face lit up like a child’s in a candy store. 

As it turned out, it was an indie French movie he had watched with his parents back when he was young and they had been on a holiday. They had rarely spent quality time together, so he cherished those few occasions he’d felt like he belonged to an ordinary, loving family. He remembered the time fondly and he always wanted to find the movie because of the nostalgia of it all, but he had forgotten the title and didn’t know the actors, so after a lot of unsuccessful attempts, he’d given up trying. 

“Can we watch this tonight? Please?” He looked at you with big brown eyes, enveloping the DVD in his hands, (dwarfing it, really) and pressing it to his heart. And how could you say no to him? If he looked at you like that, you would have agreed to watch a 10-hour-long film about paint drying on a wall. 

“Of course, Javi,” you smiled at him gently, your heart melting from his child-like joy as you watched him gallop to the cashier to pay for the gas and the DVD. You pushed the slight disappointment of not being able to climb this gorgeous goofball of a man as soon as you get home, to the back of your mind. 

At the end of the day, you were genuinely happy to just spend time with him. You blamed your hormones and the fact that you were still in the honeymoon phase for being pent up all day. You couldn’t help it, but you are a big girl in an adult relationship, you decided, you can have one night without having sex with this tall, broad, gentle but surprisingly strong, passionate, generous, highly skilled–

“Let’s go!” he urged you with an adorable grin and shining eyes, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the gas station. Your heart swelled from the sight. Yes, you can have a peaceful night if it makes him happy, and you will be just as hyped to watch the movie as him. It did seem like a good movie based on the cover, and you knew it meant the world to him, so you wouldn’t spoil his fun with your neediness. 

By the time you got back to your rented house, it was already dark, and the early autumn weather had gotten a bit more chilly. Javi practically jumped out of the car (but still rushed to your side to open your door). 

You agreed that you would prepare the snacks and set up the TV, while he would start the fireplace and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. He gave you a soft peck on your lips, one hand resting on the back of your neck, then he pretty much ran to the cellar - you think you even heard him giggling on his way. His enthusiasm was infectious, even though you’d never even heard about the movie before, now you were excited to watch it.

When you found out how to get the DVD to work Javi was already tinkling with the logs on the fireplace, a bottle of wine with two glasses on the kitchen counter already. You let yourself get lost in the sight for a good minute, your cavewoman brain activated by looking at him focusing on his task with his arms flexing, but then you shook yourself from your reveries, going to the American-style kitchen to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and wash some grapes, then putting the wine on the coffee table next to the couch.

You couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at him. His short-sleeved shirt was now unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders and your eyes fell on his white tank top straining over his torso. He seemed especially broad like this, and you couldn’t wait to cuddle with him and bury your face in his chest, kissing over the constellations of freckles on his shoulders and chest you were so familiar with by now.  

Once the fire was lighting, he looked at you proudly and you beamed back at him. The more his eyes were on you, the more his look grew softer. His gaze full of adoration made butterflies whoosh in your stomach - you were overwhelmed by emotions for this man, sometimes it even made you scared of falling too hard. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with watching this movie tonight, cariño?” He asked tenderly, his voice raspy and deep. He walked up to you to put his hands on your waist, caressing you with his thumbs and lowering his head to really look into your eyes. “I know these four days are supposed to be about the two of us.” There was no hurt or any malice in his voice, he was ready to drop the plan the second you said so. It felt like he was staring into your soul and suddenly you felt guilty. You obviously didn’t try hard enough to support him if he felt the need to ask and that made your guts tie up in a knot. You put your hands on the sides of his neck, then lowered them to his shoulders, then his chest. You never broke eye contact.

“Honey, I’m absolutely sure. We had a long day so a movie night is perfect to wind down and this movie seems super interesting! I swear, I can’t wait to start it already!” You rose on your tiptoes and laid an innocent kiss on his lips. He didn’t let you go, holding your face to deepen the kiss and a zap ran through your body as his tongue slipped between your lips to taste you. 

You felt his little huff on your upper lip, and you couldn’t resist the quiet moan that escaped your throat. The sound somewhat sobered you up, and you broke the kiss, feeling a little dizzy. He opened his eyes slowly, looking a bit disheveled himself. You had a mission to accomplish, you couldn’t get distracted all the time… you went back up just to give a small kiss on the tip of his nose, which made him smile bashfully, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Come on baby, let’s start it!” 

You grabbed the snacks, but he took them from you with a kiss on your temple, and you both headed to the couch. He put the snacks down on the table and plopped down on the L-shaped furniture as you went on a quick round to light some candles around the room, bathing it in warm colours. You started with the candles in the back and as you worked your way back up you caught him pouring wine into your glasses, then he started to explore the menu of the DVD to set up an English subtitle. With a small sigh, you allowed yourself to indulge yourself in his sight one last time while you were finishing up the candles. 

He quite literally took your breath away. His lovely locks you adored to bury your hands into so much, his eyes sparkling from the TV’s light and crinkled with a smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on his face. Your eyes followed the curve of his prominent nose and fell on his lips under his neat mustache. Those pouty lips... you had some vivid memories involving them. The man might look innocent, but he sure knew how to do sin when he wanted to. 

He leaned back with his legs propped up and reached out to you. You climbed on top of him and nestled yourself into his chest. He held you close to him, situating himself so you were sitting between his legs, resting your back on his chest. 

“Ready, cariño?” He hummed into your neck, pressing a small kiss there. Your blood sizzled under your sensitive skin. 

“Never been more ready! Let’s go!”

Javi started the movie and scooted even closer to you, if possible. Strong arms resting on your stomach, caging you in, he nuzzled your neck with a low hum, leaving a trail of kisses up your jaw, finishing with the softest of kisses on your cheek. You felt intoxicated, despite the untouched glasses on the table. His warmth was making your whole body melt, the way his chest rose and fell rhythmically behind you soothed you, and his cologne filled your nostrils with something warm and spicy and citrusy. But below all those layers it smelled uniquely like him, perfectly complementing his perfume. You would recognize it anywhere, after so many times of tasting his skin all over his body – it was the perfect concoction.

He was none the wiser about your… rather delicate situation, eyes glued to the screen, hands absentmindedly caressing your hips and stomach. You tried to focus on the movie, and you were able to catch glimpses of it and laugh at the jokes, but his touches kept distracting you. More often than not you caught yourself looking at his sinewy forearms, the golden watch on his wrist, and the ring on his pinky catching on your dress from time to time. You slowly traced the veins on his arms, and as you tried to focus on the screen again you played with the edges of his watch and ring. He gently caught your hand, intertwining your fingers and raising it to his face for a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Some wine?” He murmured sometime later. 

You were grateful for the opportunity, slightly going mad from the tension as you were stewing in your juices. He barely finished his question, you were already leaning for the glasses, handing him one. “Oo-kay,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm, albeit a little confused by your behaviour. He paused the movie and sat up at the corner of the couch. You were still between his legs, but you both positioned yourself to turn to each other more at the corner. His left hand held the glass, and his right was on your waist, keeping you close to him. His eyes were glazed over looking at your face and you could only imagine how ridiculously smitten you must have looked like. 

“For this perfect day, and for the unexpected gifts it has brought us,” he said, raising his glass. 

“For this perfect day, that is about to get even better,” you answered, making him grin with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

You clinked your glasses and raised it to your lips, him barely tasting the wine through a sip, while you downed the whole glass. Leaning back against the backrest of the couch, you tried to look put together. The taste really was divine, and you had hoped it would help to calm your nerves a bit. Javi was visibly amused looking at you.

“You liked it, huh, cariño?” He asked, getting your glasses and putting them on the table leaning over your legs. 

You giggled in response, smiling shyly at him with a small shrug, “It tasted amazing, Javi. It was a great choice.” 

“I knew you would love this. Say the word and a box of these will be at my house by the time we get home,” he said, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears and kept his hand on the side of your face. 

“Consider it said.” You winked at him and he breathed out a silent laugh, but he tilted his head a little with a small frown between his brows, seemingly inspecting you. You had a feeling you had looked a bit nervous, only because you’d tried to clumsily mask your desire for him, wanting to give this night to him to enjoy a movie that meant so much to him but… you clearly weren’t succeeding. You knew he was about to ask you about it, so instead you grabbed the remote before he could speak. 

“Shall we?” You asked nonchalantly. 

His hand dropped from your face. “Of course,” he said. 

He shook his head a little, failing at figuring you out as he leaned back on the couch. You laid down in front of him so you could continue watching the movie while he spooned you, and pressed the play button. You’d hoped that with this new pose, there would be less temptation as you’re not laying on him anymore, but boy, were you wrong. 

He hoisted you closer to his body, his hand splayed out on your stomach, and kept you there, almost protectively. Staring at it, you dumbly wondered about how much smaller your torso looked under his hand than your own and that activated something primal in your mind again. You felt his crotch pressed up to your ass, and though he wasn’t hard, it made your cunt throb around nothing. It was so close, yet so far, and you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. Your guts twisted, and you wiggled every few minutes, pressing your thighs together, uselessly fighting the arousal that kept getting more and more suffocating. 

A few minutes later he nuzzled at the back of your ear, and the combined sensations of his breath in your ear and the soft tickle of his mustache and stubble made a shudder run through your body, followed by goosebumps everywhere.

“Are you alright, honey?” He murmured, looking at your profile. 

“Of course, Javi,” you said, not very convincingly. “Just trying to find the perfect angle.” You explained as you wiggled some more, still staring at the TV, as your thumb gently smoothed across his knuckles to soothe him. 

“Right…” he replied. 

Whatever he thought, he didn’t say anything else. 

However, a few minutes later the hand that had been on your stomach slowly wandered down, below the hem of your sundress, and he gently, but firmly lifted your thigh to fit his between your legs. The movement was so unexpected that you couldn’t hold back a small groan from the pleasure the friction gave you. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Javi asked innocently behind your back, his hand now smoothing over the bare skin on your thigh, leaving an electric feeling beneath your skin in its trail. Every single one of his touches made arousal pool between your legs. You silently cursed at your body for growing more and more sensitive, begging for him to come closer. 

“Yeah…” you practically squeaked. You were close to your breaking point. 

Javi only hummed, his hand stopping to rest it on your stomach again. You were fighting your instincts to rub yourself on his thigh for a few minutes, and you were proud of yourself for resisting, but then he moved between your legs a little, enough to give attention to your aching clit, and the hiss that escaped your lips made him come to a halt. 

It felt like the time froze for a few seconds, none of you daring to move. You, trying to take back control over your treacherous body, and him obviously assessing the situation. You mentally did a facepalm as you felt your wet underwear sticking to his pants. He didn’t say anything, but his hand moved down from your stomach and bunched up your skirt. He breathed out your name, almost admonishing, and it made your heart jump. His hand was dangerously close to where you wanted him the most, and as his palm covered your mound, thick fingers reaching your soaked panties, he buried his face in the back of your neck. 

“Oh, honey…” he choked. He took a deep inhale, smelling your scent, then suddenly sat up and paused the movie. 

“No, Javi, I was watching it!” You wanted to wince at yourself, your act was truly ridiculous at this point. 

“None of that, cariño.” He shook his head, turning you on your back with a firm hand on your hip. “You obviously need me, please let me take care of you.” 

“It really can wait, I don’t mind!” You protested. You wanted nothing more than for him to touch you, but you didn’t want to be selfish. 

“Well, I don’t want to wait!” He declared, his gaze burning you as it fell from your face, scanning your body splayed out in front of him. “What about this: I eat you out, then we can continue the movie. Would that be okay for you?” 

You stared at him like a deer caught in a headlight. Is he serious? But his words definitely affected you. 

“Please, cariño,” he continued in a gentler tone, his pleading eyes finding yours again. “Let me eat your pretty pussy, now.” 

That was the last nail in your coffin, you swore under your breath as you almost went cross-eyed from his words only. “Fffuck, okay… okay let’s do this” you croaked after a few seconds, your defenses crumbling like a house of cards in a tornado. 

“Atta girl,” he smirked, and in an instant, he was on top of you. 

His fingers found their way into your hair as he put his lips on you, the press of his body a comforting weight on you. His kiss was electric, hot, and sensual. He sucked your lips in with a primal hunger, his tongue licking against the seam of your lips, opening you up to him and claiming your mouth with dominance. You barely noticed the soft sounds coming from your throat, only when you felt the corners of his mouth curl up slightly in a smile. You felt like you had to anchor yourself as you gripped the back of his open yellow shirt so hard, it was protesting against your ministrations on his shoulders. 

“Mmmtake—this—off,” you whispered desperately against his all-encompassing kiss. 

Javi leaned back, his hair disheveled, to practically tear the shirt off of himself. With a huff through his nose, his eyes gazed at your kiss-swollen lips with hunger. You were out of breath from the intensity of the kiss, panting softly as you took in the sight of him. 

He still had his tank top on, your mouth already dropping from the show. His top only accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist, and his skin kissed by the firelight was glowing in a golden light, its colours and the way the lights and shadows exaggerated his features made you drool. You could never resist the freckles on his shoulders and chest either. If you weren’t already on the edge of insanity, you would spend hours kissing and biting along his torso, but now clearly none of you had the patience for that. 

He came back to you and started suckling on your neck, one of your hands flying to his back to weakly trace the ridges of his shoulder blade, while the other clutched his bicep. Keeping up his ministrations on your neck he gently bunched up your dress above your stomach. His thigh found its way back between your legs and this time you bucked your hips up shamelessly. He groaned as he felt your wet warmth staining his pants and his lips traveled lower. As he trailed your collarbone with the tip of his tongue between his lips, two of his fingers touched you through your panties and you moaned out loud. 

“Javi, please!” you whined as he trailed his middle and ring finger up your seam, and tapped on your clit through the soaked textile. You were so worked up, you felt your heart pounding in your ears. 

“Shhh cariño, I got you,” he murmured, his voice impossibly low and his breath burning your chest. 

His fingers never gave up, but he always kept his touches light, making you throb uncontrollably. You watched him move lower, and you couldn’t decide what to stare at: his lips and tongue molding against your fevered skin, or the dips and hills of his shoulders and biceps flexing as he kept himself up with one arm while torturing you with the other. He traced his tongue around your navel and he looked up at you as he licked over its valley, his fingers mimicking the movement below. He then had the audacity to send you a cheeky wink as your whole body shuddered.

“Fuuuck, stop teasing me, I can’t take it anymore!” you sounded pathetic, but you didn’t care at this point.

“Okay, baby. You earned it.” 

He consoled you quietly with a final kiss to your lower stomach, before hooking his fingers into your panties to slowly drag the piece down. If it was anyone else you probably would have felt awkward about how the fabric protested at first, sticking to your cunt, but with Javi, if anything, you felt powerful. 

He was visibly trying to compose himself as he gently helped you get both your legs out of the ruined piece and with a shaky exhale he scooted back. He shove a cushion under your ass as he laid down on his belly, navigating your thighs over his shoulders, eyeing your center with blown-out pupils. 

“I will never get used to this,” he mused to himself with wonder in his voice, as he splayed his hands across the crease of your ass to softly spread your cunt wide open with his thumbs. You felt his heavy huff on your pussy, and it made you twitch again. He looked captivated by the sight.

“Javi, I swear to go—oohhh my god,” Javi cut you off as the flat of his tongue licked a broad and firm stripe through your folds with a depraved moan.

Your whole body lifted up, and he hooked his arms around your legs, grabbing at the top of your thighs as he held you down, keeping you close to his ravenous mouth. He gave you a few greedy laps, slowly exploring all of your cunt before his tongue lazily went around your hole. Your muscles were twitching, your chest and neck aflame, and if his sight weren’t so hypnotizing you would have thrown your head back already. You felt boneless. 

Your abs shaking from the strain of keeping you upright, you grabbed a few cushions you could reach from your position, and shoved them under your head, angling yourself perfectly to watch him at work. He was licking at you tirelessly, mapping all your sensitive spots, before he started to fuck you with his tongue, slowly but deliberately grazing your walls all around. 

You let out a raspy moan at the sensation - he was the first person who had ever done this to you and you were still surprised by it every single time. The feel of his agile muscle prodding at your sensitive flesh made your vision blur and sweat gather around your temple. He went as deep as possible, and after an inhale he buried his nose in your clit, slightly moving it left and right. You felt him everywhere as if he was surrounding your entire body. One of your hands grabbed a cushion so tightly, it made your knuckles ache, your other hand finding purchase in his soft locks. 

You were scraping his scalp with your fingernails, and he practically purred, the sounds vibrating against your raw flesh, starting a fire in your guts as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You couldn’t help pulling at a handful of hair as your pussy spasmed around his deft tongue. His purr turned into a growl as he removed himself, gulping some air still a few inches away from your cunt. Your hands lifelessly plopped down around you. 

“Fuck, cariño, I won’t ever get enough of you,” his speech was slurred like he was drunk and he looked up at you with disoriented eyes. “You taste so good, I would happily drown in you.”

You wanted to react, you really did, but as he was talking one of his hands left your thigh and traced an invisible pattern down the apex of your thighs, fingers traveling through your cunt and gathering your juices, then reaching their destination, a thick digit slipping into you just when you wanted to answer him. Whatever you wanted to tell him, he rendered you speechless with literally a swipe of his finger. The cracking of the fire and the slick sounds of your pussy were the only noises around you, until you felt his mouth on you again. He lapped up the juices escaping you around his finger, sucking on your lips with obscenely loud noises. You wanted to cover your face because you suddenly felt self-conscious, but his free hand grabbed your wrist as you heard him call your name brokenly. 

“Please don’t hide away from me, I want to see your face as I bring you pleasure,” he pleaded, his accent a bit stronger than usual. 

The mere look of him was debauched, all messy-haired and shiny-faced, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Your heart skipped a beat, and you held onto his hand, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your knuckles immediately. Your other hand smoothed his unruly hair out of his face, and he went back, keeping eye contact with you. 

“Look at me,” he rasped one last time before diving in.

He dragged his tongue up between your folds as his finger started moving again. He looked up at you the entire time from under his lashes, eyes half-lidded. As he reached your clit you jumped a little, and he opened his mouth wider so you could see his tongue moving against the tortured little nub with a small wiggle. You had to compose yourself not to let your eyes roll back, the sight somehow multiplying the already devastating sensation tenfold. 

“You’re so fucking good to me, Javi,” you uttered, caressing his hair and you could see a shiver running down his spine. “I’m so—so—“

“I know, mi amor, I can feel it. Let go for me.” 

He groaned and sucked your clit into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. You squealed, not knowing if you wanted to escape from his ministrations or let him consume you. You tried to trash around but his hands came up and covered the bottom of your stomach, holding you down again. You had half the mind to notice him slowly grinding onto the couch, but then you felt his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, along with his finger rubbing that perfect spot inside you again, and you felt like a lightning struck you. 

All your muscles seized up as white-hot pleasure coursed through your veins. At first, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone make a sound, but then a groan tore out from the depth of your chest and you fell back on the couch lifelessly. Javi never let up licking at you, prolonging your catharsis, not stopping even when you tried to squirm away from oversensitivity. 

“No, no wait—“ you pleaded with a shaky voice to no avail. Everything was too much, but you couldn’t escape from his iron grip. Javi greedily explored all your sensitive spots around your swollen vulva and hole with firm strokes, before he found the button of your clit again, sucking on it harshly dragging you under the waves of ecstasy for a second time that night with a squeak. His mouth was sucking at you relentlessly through the helpless spasms of your body, draining all the energy from you and filling your brain with fuzzy cotton. You fell back limply, muttering nonsense while his mouth gently cleaned you up.

You had no idea how long you were just laying there uselessly, basking in the afterglow with Javi still between your legs. His face rested on the plush of your thigh, his breathing slow but heavy, his eyes closed and his hands flexing. 

Once your wits came back to you, you noticed a faint dent on your thigh from Javi’s ring, a thought of how you wanted to tattoo it on your skin filled your mind – to keep it there forever. 

You played with his hair again, curling a silky strand around your finger by scraping little circles on his scalp. As if you woke him up from a stupor, he looked up at you, breathing now almost normal, but his pupils were still blown out. He wiped his face on your inner thigh, then kissed and sucked off the remnants of your wetness there and you giggled, his facial hair tickling you. He crawled up your body with a smile across his face, before he laid next to you. You immediately followed him, decorating the hot skin on his shoulders and collarbone with lazy, open-mouthed kisses. He weakly pawed at your waist to bring you closer to him, then dragged the bottom of your dress over your thighs to give you some decency. 

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he pondered and gently pinched your ass. You snickered as you playfully swatted his chest, before laying your head on his pecs. His heart was beating wildly and it made you swoon, so much so that you had to lay a soft kiss between his pecs, just above the hem of his top before nuzzling even more into his blushed chest, as a content sigh fell from your lips. Your gaze couldn’t help but fall to his bulge - he was visibly affected by your previous endeavors. 

“Javi…” you whispered in his neck, while your hand gently caressed his stomach. You felt his heavy exhale under you. “If you want… we can continue…” 

“Oh! Of course, cariño!” he said, perking up, reaching out for the remote control and pushing the play button again, eyes immediately glued on the screen. 

You laid there, having a mental tantrum. Well, things weren’t going the way expected. How can he still be thinking about the movie? 

Squashing that ugly disappointment down, you turned in his arms to try to focus on the TV again. You weren’t allowed to complain, he said he would make you cum and you would continue the movie, and he did just that and more. You couldn’t help the ravenous hunger you had for this man though, it was never enough of him. You laid a soft kiss on his bicep below your head and your arm reached behind to gently shove him back against you. He followed you diligently, but he tensed as his bulge, now hard, rested against your ass again. 

“I’m sorry honey, I’ll just need a minute,” he apologised quietly, voice strained from embarrassment and barely veiled desire. 

The devil on your shoulder took over you as you rolled your hips against him slowly but deliberately. The filthy sound coming from deep in his chest melted your bones, making it hard to keep back your own needy whine. 

“Wh—what are you doing?” 

His strong grip on your hip felt like a warning, but his voice was so weak. That’s what made you throw all your culture out the window, giddy roiling in your guts from feeling him get fully erect against you. You barely registered your hand moving mindlessly, grinding your palm against him. His hand clenched around your forearm easily, but he didn’t move it away. 

“I need you, Javi,” you begged shamelessly, turning your head back in his direction as much as possible. 

“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes closed shut with a loud gulp. When he opened his eyes again his gaze was intense, one of his hands cradling your face as he propped himself up on his elbow to look deeply into your eyes. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie…” 

That made you freeze with confusion, even your hand stopped moving over him. 

“…me?” You asked incredulously. “I mean yeah, it does seem like a great movie and I’d happily watch it any other time, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with you the entire day. I’ve wanted to eat you up since we crawled out of bed this morning. But I’m happy to do anything as long as I’m with you– and you looked so happy to find that movie… I don’t know… I just didn’t want to ruin your joy with my neediness, I guess” you confessed hastily with warm cheeks. 

A soft sound of surprise got stuck in his throat as he looked at you with saucer eyes, gaping like a fish. It looked rather comical if you were honest. If you didn’t feel so sheepish about your clumsy confession, you would have giggled at his expression. 

He shook his head lightly, as if processing your words. “So that’s why you were acting so weird tonight!” He exclaimed, relief evident on his face. He breathed out your name softly, his thumb caressing your face ever so gently. 

“I felt the same way the entire day. I got distracted by finding the movie, I give you that, but up until that moment, I was contemplating taking you in the bathroom in every single place we visited. Even in the car, consequences be damned,” he huffed, and you had to clench your thighs to alleviate the need growing between them again from the mental image. 

“Cariño, I have the DVD now, I can watch it whenever I want!” He tutted, “I swear, one day I’m gonna write a screenplay for you to be the lead in it, you’re such a talented actress. You seemed so eager to watch this movie that I felt guilty for trying to distract you,” he smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear with a chuckle, “I suppose both of us were fools…” 

You couldn’t hold back a rather unsexy snort at that, but it made him beam at you with crinkling eyes. 

He cupped your jaw and leaned over to press a sweet kiss on your lips, but it immediately grew hungry. The stark difference between his precious face and the taste of yourself still on his tongue made a shudder run through your body. 

Javi can really do both, you thought dreamily, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he rolled you on top of him and deepened the kiss as he slowly sat up, helping you to position yourself on your knees around his hips. He planted his feet on the couch and grabbing your bare asscheeks firmly he dragged your pulsing center down on his bulge. 

Your hands flew to his hair, arms resting on his shoulders, feeling like passing out when you felt his cock twitch against your bare pussy, tearing a low hiss out of him. He bunched up and gripped your dress around your torso. 

“This little dress was teasing me all day,” he groaned, slowly pulling down the zip on your back, the edge of his thumb caressing your bare spine in the process. “It looks fantastic on you, honey, but I need to see all of you, right now.” 

By the time he finished his thought, he already tugged it off of you, your breast jiggling in front of his face from the impact of falling out of the secure hold of the dress, his heavy gaze falling to them immediately, your body now bare in his lap. 

“Oh god, look at you… tan bonita,” he murmured as his hands slid over your ribs firmly, before they slipped under your breasts with a feather-light touch. 

He cupped the mounds gently as his thumbs smoothly explored the skin. The pad of his fingers traced your areola, then softly rubbed over your sensitive nipples. You arched your back, leaking some more wetness on his trousers as you rubbed yourself heavier on him. One hand molded a breast into his waiting mouth, tongue wiggling around the achy nub and the other slipping down your shivering stomach, across the top of your thigh and teasing at your seam across your ass. 

The suckling sensation on your nipple, while his hand was prodding teasingly at your swollen entrance made you go insane. You had to center yourself around something. You clasped the back of the couch tightly, using it as support as you pushed your chest more in his face. Without hesitation, you vigorously moved your clit against his bulge, your head arched back in ecstasy.

His wrecked moan was the prize, your breast slipping from his lips as you watched a tremor course through his entire body. Once he came back to his senses he doubled down his efforts, nuzzling the other breast and sucking the pebbled nipple in his hot mouth. 

His tongue started to swirl around the hardened nub at the same time as two of his fingers drowned in your slick pussy, finding your most sensitive spot with devastating accuracy. Your mind went blank, and your gasps came out in hiccups. Your instincts took over as you were riding his bulge with trembling legs, chasing your blinding pleasure. You only had enough wits to sit back to undo his belt, ripping off his fly, and with his help, you were able to push his pants down his thighs, freeing his erect cock.

His hand grasped the base and gently tapped it against your sensitive clit, and your hips started moving again, trapping his length under your pussy as you continued to slide over him. He softly bit on your nipple in response which blazed off fireworks in your lower stomach, his other hand never stopping its brutal pace grinding against your most sensitive spot. You were so close to cumming you could practically taste it on your tongue. 

“Feels so good—,“ your voice was desperate, and he let out a wrecked moan around your breast. 

The soft pulling sensation, coupled with the warm, wet caresses of his mouth on your nipple, the expert touch of his fingers on your g-spot, and the tantalizing friction of your clit rubbing against the ridges of his cock, quickly sent you spiraling into a world of ecstasy and pleasure. You came with a wail, your back arching and eyes rolling back. You faintly felt Javi’s hands at the base of your back and along your spine, keeping you close to him while his eyes feasted on you falling apart for him. You fell back on his shoulders, weakly grasping at his elbows as his palms caressed your back and he showered your neck with small kisses, humming quietly between them. 

“You did so well, you’re fucking amazing,” he breathed against your skin, as you felt your pulse slow down a bit. He kissed a path down your sweaty chest and came back the same route. After some blissful peace, you felt his cock twitch against you and you whined. 

“Do you have one more in you, mi amor? We can rest,” Javi asked gently, his eyes searching for yours. 

Bless his heart, he made you come three times and he would finish the night here and there, hard as a rock. Your body was still buzzing and you felt sore from his thick fingers but one look at his sinful state was enough to get you in the mood again. 

His lovely locks were now sticking to his face, the perspiration on his chest only making him glow even more. His mouth was agape, plush lower lip kiss-swollen, and his dark eyes silently pleading with you. Instead of giving him an answer, you gripped the hem of his tank top and peeled the offending item off of him as he held up his arms, helping you and keeping his lustrous eyes on yours. 

Resting your hands on the top of his chest you kissed down his neck, between his collarbones. Sitting back lower on his legs, you could trace your tongue between his pecs and down to his soft stomach. You couldn’t help but kiss around his little belly, giving him a playful bite which made him jolt with a small laugh. Your finger traced the soft patch of hair below his navel, and understanding your silent request, he kicked down the remaining of his clothes while you kneeled on the side. 

You were fascinated as you watched his cock in all its glory, shiny from your juices, precum already leaking from the angry, red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you were already in motion to have a taste for yourself when he stopped you, gently putting his hands around your arms. 

“It pains me to stop you, but the second I feel your mouth on me, I would be a goner.” His husky voice was layered with desire. “C’mere, I need to be inside you,” he added, and you almost jumped on him. 

You crawled back over his hips while he pumped his cock a few times, his veins bulging in his cock and forearms. It was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen and you filed the idea for later exploration. You went lower on him and he smeared his member over your slit, covering him in your juices generously again, then he prodded the head at your entrance. 

“Come on, cariño, let me feel you, please,” he growled, and you carefully descended down on him. 

You were over quite a few nights with him, but your pussy still struggled to accommodate his size, especially now that you were still sore and sensitive from earlier. The struggle felt like a pinch and you whined, but he cradled your face and kissed your forehead. 

“It’s okay honey, take your time,” he whispered and let you take the lead for the moment. 

He caressed everywhere he could reach. He sucked two fingers into his mouth and lead them to your clit, ever so slightly drawing circles around it. At first, it felt like a needle stab, but a few seconds later it turned into pleasure. You swallowed more of him with a quiver. You felt so full, even though you were still a few inches apart from sitting down completely. 

His tongue found your breasts again, laving at the skin with bites and kisses alternating between them, tongue chasing your puffy nipple with confident laps. When he sucked in your soaked bud to bite down on it your cunt bottomed out, swallowing his cock entirely as a fresh wave of slickness coated his base. He tore away from your glistening nipple, burying his face between your breasts with a heavy groan. 

“You’re so fucking tight around me,” he rasped into your damp chest. “You were made for me. And your skin is so fucking silky.” 

Just to prove his point, his greedy tongue made its way up your chest, across your neck and jaw and to claim your mouth in a hedonistic kiss, as his hands grabbed the meat of your ass; not to force you to move, but to ground himself. 

The kiss was a little clumsy, but no less toe-curling, his tongue exploring your mouth and teeth clashing as you started to rise and fall against him. You felt so full, as if he was in your guts. Your lungs burned as you felt more and more overwhelmed by the inferno in your body. You broke away from him only to lay back, hands grabbing his shins while continuing to move up and down on his cock. 

The new angle was exhausting, but it rubbed your insides from just the perfect direction, and your vision blurred from the sensation. From this angle he had the best view of his cock disappearing in your puffy cunt, then appearing again, covered in your juices. Javi was hypnotized by the sight, his mouth dropping, and eyebrows knitted tightly together. 

“That’s it, use me, just like that,” he grunted, trapped under your spell over him. 

Heavy-lidded eyes followed your every move, and as he reached out to touch your overworked clit again your thighs started to tremble so hard that you couldn’t continue gyrating against him. He swore under his breath as you throbbed around him another time, and you leaned over his body to grab his shoulders. 

He prompted you to rise higher on your knees above him as he secured his feet on the surface of the couch. One arm braced himself next to his torso, while the other slipped up your back to grab your shoulder from the back, and he started to pound into you mercilessly, stealing your breath. You could barely stay in place, so you grabbed the backrest of the couch as you felt tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. 

“Are you close, baby? I’m so close but I need you to come first,” he strained, seemingly every muscle in his body tensing from the exertion.

He looked like a sculpture of a deity from ancient times, especially when his head fell back, the thick column of his gorgeous neck on full display. You could only nod, not being able to even form a coherent thought anymore as your desperate whines became constant. He raised his head again - he couldn’t keep his gaze away from where you connected, his face almost looked angry from the concentration. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, rub your clit for me,” he roared, and you followed his order immediately. 

Almost as soon as you touched your clit, you started shuddering violently with a loud and raspy cry, tears running down your face as he kept grazing your g-spot with every powerful thrust. You felt possessed as your entire body short-circuited, and your ears started ringing. You faintly registered his load painting your walls as your throbbing core milked him dry, his growl echoing in your ears. 

You collapsed on him like a ragdoll, your sweaty bodies colliding as he kept you close to his chest. As you came back to your wits a few minutes later you felt raw and weak and vulnerable, but it was okay because Javi was there, embracing you with strong arms and gentle kisses across your face, swiping away your tears. His body was like a shelter as you clung to him with all your limbs and he kept you safe from whatever was happening outside of your bubble. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his hand smoothed over your hair while his body swayed you gently. 

“I’m… I’m more than okay,” you croaked, still feeling boneless as you weakly clasped into his body. “Thank you, this was a spiritual experience.” He huffed a small laugh at that. 

“You are incredible,” he cooed. 

You lazily nuzzled deeper into his neck with a hum, letting his scent calm your frayed nerves down. You stayed like that, limbs intertwined for a while, before Javi reluctantly pulled out of you, making the both of you groan as he gently helped you to lay on your back and he hurried to the bathroom in all his naked glory. 

He came back soon, but that little time was enough for you to realize that your thighs and mound were drenched. That explains the out-of-body experience. 

Javi sat down next to you, a warm and wet washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up with reverence, eyeing the marks he had left over your body. He seemed worried, but you wore them with pride.

“That’s very kind of you, but I think we will need to shower anyway,” you smiled bashfully, and he placed a smooth kiss on your forehead.

“I wasn’t sure if you had enough energy for that,” he rasped.

“If you help me, it won’t be an issue,” you sat up slowly, your coordination akin to a newborn foal, his hand held out to help you to stand. 

“Of course, cariño.” 

His warm eyes made your knees buckle, this time not from your physical activities. As if on cue, the credits rolled on the screen with a blaring sound, and both of you jerked your head in its direction with alarm, obviously forgetting about the movie going in the background the entire time. You looked back at each other with wide eyes, laughter erupting out of you at the same time.

“So, you wanna watch the movie when we get back home?” He snickered.

“Definitely!” You perked up at the prospect of spending more time with him after your getaway. Besides, now it was your mission to finally really watch the movie. “Unless you’ll need me again,” you added, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He chuckled and smacked your ass gently.

“I was hoping for that answer.”

—————

THE END.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated ♥️

[inbrightshadows]

*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

[elllisaaa]

Seokmin bf thoughts!??!! Plzzzzz 🥺

BF!SEOKMIN who is so fucking whipped for you, and so cute and sweet, you don't know what you did to get so lucky.

i have to start by talking about his smile because he just has such a pretty smile, i would die for that smile. and even if he has that beautiful smile, seokmin's number one goal in life is to make you laugh and be happy. he's always ready to do some stupid things if it gets you to smile or giggle, and you never spend a day by his side without breaking down in laughter at least one time. seokmin is very caring and attentive to your every need. for example, he's always asking you about how your day went and he wants every little detail, even the ones you consider useless. he loves it when you share everything with him, and he gets so involved in every story or drama you tell him about - he remembers everything and he needs updates. seokmin will do the same though, telling you all about some dramas that happen behind the scenes. it's not rare for the both of you to gossip all night, and you're like two best friends who are talking about the same people over and over and finishing the session by "but who are we to judge them ?". seokmin is both your bestie and your boyfriend, and you love him for that.

"by the way babe, how did yooha's date go ?" - "it's a long story, sit down." - "oh my god, tell me all about it, i'm all ears !"

cuddles, cuddles and cuddles. so many cuddles because he needs to feel close to you all the time. he always seek your touch and your presence by his side. he especially loves it when you fall asleep when you're laying on his chest, and he might have some photos because you're just too cute. seokmin also loves to fall asleep on your chest sometimes - he gives a lot of love, but he needs to be loved too and just wants to be in your arms and feel your hands caress his back up and down to help him relax. his hugs are very soothing, and everytime you're not doing well, you know you just need to ask him to fall into his arms. seokmin takes pride into knowing that he's your safe place, and everytime you come to him, he feels like he did his job as your boyfriend. he texts you a lot throughout the day, to check in on you and update you on what happened to him. but the most important thing is the boyfriend material photos he sends you everyday. you lose your mind every time and when he finds out you keep a folder of these photos, he genuinely tears up. he lends you his clothes very often, his heart melting when he comes home to see you wearing his hoodie, all cozy on the couch. that only entices him into cuddling with you immediately, and you welcome him with open arms.

"it feels good to be home… i never want you to let me go, i'm too comfortable."

seokmin loves to try new places with you - be that cafés, restaurants, bakeries or even libraries. anything that the both of you love, you're going to go together and review it like you're professionals even if you're not. you both have a lot of fun during these hangouts. he also has gifted you a little box filled with tickets that you can give him anytime you want, and that means that he has to take you out on a date. seokmin literally has a list in his phone with everything he wants to do with you ready, and he always keeps the location you’re going to secret until the last minute. he never fails to tell you how pretty he thinks you are all the time, but when you dress up for a night out, he's even more extra. whenever you're stepping out of your bedroom in an outfit a little fancier than usual, he's the type to fake passing out because of how gorgeous you look. it never fails to make you laugh and it's seokmin's way of reminding you that he's not ashamed to show to the world how obsessed with you he is.

"wait, i need a second." - "seokmin, please, just tell me if it looks good or not." - "baby, i don't think good is strong enough, i need to create a new word to describe how beautiful you are."

BF!SEOKMIN who's whipped for you and your body and the way you make him feel, he just wants to make you feel as good as possible.

seokmin's only goal is to pleasure you as much as you want, and he does that perfectly. foreplay is on a whole different level with him - it's an art. sometimes he doesn't even need to push his cock into you for the both of you to feel satisfied. if he could die in between your thighs, he would, and once he gets a taste of you, he doesn't stop until you're a trembling mess and that his whole face is covered in your juices. seokmin also loves mutual masturbation, having his fingers deep inside of your cunt and your hand stroking his cock up and down while you're sitting on his thighs and making out with him is his definition of heaven. another form of foreplay that he likes is when you're riding his thigh, because let's be honest, he has such pretty thighs, it would be a crime not to use them. seeing you come undone on top of him is literally driving him crazy.

"that's so hot baby, you're so fucking hot, i could cum just looking at you…"

he's constantly complimenting you and your body, how sexy you are and how good you're making him feel. but seokmin also needs to hear that he's doing good for you too, it gets him going when you're calling him your good boy. you want to edge him even if he's so sensitive and that he doesn't think he can handle it ? he'll let you. you want him to keep fucking you after he's came already ? he'll do it. whatever it takes for you to tell him he's doing good, he will do it. seokmin actually loves how dominant you become whenever he asks you if he's doing well. suddenly, you become much more assertive and teasing, and it's so attractive for some reasons. the way you're telling him what to do and if he can cum or not is making him dizzy most days, and he craves your praise. even when he's the one on top, you're sometimes taking control and he lets you because he wants to please you.

"am i doing good ? please, tell me that i've been good…"

seokmin is obsessed with your whole body but your breast is something he can never get enough of. he encourages you to wear tops or dresses with deep cleavages only because it gives him a better view of your pretty tits. when you're wearing pretty lace bras that squish your boobs together just for him, he cannot resist the urge to bury his face in between them. your chest is constantly covered in bite marks and hickeys because seokmin just needs to have his mouth on them whenever he sees them. so naturally he would go crazy if you ever let him fuck your tits. the moment you push your boobs together to squeeze his dick in between them, he's going cross-eyed and he cannot stop moaning the whole time. the way you even let him cover your chest and face in his cum has him ready to go again even if he just orgasmed. generally, he prefers to cum on your chest anyway, pulling out just in time to let you stroke his dick and help him shoot his load onto your pretty tits.

"can i cum on your boobs pretty please ? fuck ! you look so beautiful like this, all mine."

[weemssapphic]

Hi there :)

I was wondering if you would be open to writing a Larissa x Reader fic where reader is dealing with vaginismus? I don't ever see it discussed.

The details can be up to you.

Thanks!

hello! i don't want to say i'm back but like... half, maybe 🥺 tbf I know who sent this request, it's been a while since we've talked about this but thank you!!! so much!!!

for anyone who is unfamiliar with vaginismus, it's a condition where the vaginal walls contract involuntarily when anything (a dildo, a penis, a tampon, a finger, medical instrument... etc...) is inserted into the vagina. this makes the vaginal canal very narrow and can cause significant pain and anxiety. i highly recommend doing more reading if you haven't heard of it.

s.e.x.

Larissa Weems x virgin!reader

words: ~5k | ao3 link in title

content/warnings: pwp/smut (minors dni pls), virgin!reader, vaginismus, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

“Mmh… is this alright?” Larissa mumbles against your lips as her fingers toy with the button of your trousers, her other hand buried in your hair as she hovers over you in the center of her king-sized bed. 

You hum in affirmation, her breath hot against your lips as her tongue brushes against your own, drawing a deep moan from your chest. “You can take them off,” you murmur breathlessly, and Larissa smiles into the kiss as she swiftly undoes the button and drags the zipper down, her hand slipping into the open trousers and cupping your pussy. Her fingers press against the wet spot at the center of your underwear and her smile turns into a smirk.

“So wet,” she coos, the word sounding absolutely sinful as it drips from her lips and brings a fresh wave of arousal to your core, your underwear now absolutely soaked. Your head tips back against the pillows and you let out an involuntary whimper, your cheeks slowly but surely turning a lovely shade of pink at the embarrassment of being so deeply and utterly turned on simply from making out with Larissa.

The two of you have been seeing each other for a few weeks now and, while you’ve finally managed to wrap your head around the fact that she does, in fact, like you back, you still find yourself growing shy around the shapeshifter, your attraction to her somehow growing by the day. At first you’d been nervous to tell Larissa that you’ve never had sex before - but, as with all things, she took it in stride, assuring you that it didn’t matter to her and she’d let you set the pace. On the drive back to her apartment after dinner tonight, her hand on your thigh had prompted you to mention you think you’re ready, which prompted a heated makeout session against the back of Larissa’s front door that ended up leading straight to her bed.

Larissa’s fingers press down a little harder against your cunt, rubbing back and forth, before she retracts her hand from inside of your trousers and reaches for the waistband, giving it a gentle tug. You move your hips and help her to pull them down, kicking them off into a heap at the foot of the bed. 

Her hand lands on your lower belly, her pinky toying with the hem of your shirt as her lips leave yours and begin to trail along your jaw instead. Your skin feels like it could go up in flames at the slightest touch as Larissa’s hand slips beneath the fabric of your shirt and behind your back, fingers digging into your flesh as she holds you close and presses her torso against yours. 

Your back arches of its volition, your body burning with a need to get even closer to her, your fingers twisting in her updo as you let out an involuntary moan into her mouth. “Fuck, Riss…” you mumble as she gives your own hair a little tug, before she shifts slightly above you, straddling you and pinning you to the bed as her hand leaves your hair and falls to your hip. She soothes her palm up your torso, pushing your shirt up until her fingertips hit the underwire of your bra - she breaks the kiss and her gaze meets yours, and you’re certain you’ve never looked this aroused before in your life, and you nod as you realize that she’s silently asking for permission to take your shirt off.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as Larissa tugs your shirt over your head and tosses it carelessly aside, her eyes darkening as they roam your (almost) bare torso - it’s more of you than she’s ever seen, and she seems to be drinking it in intensely for a moment, before dropping her head to your chest and peppering open-mouthed kisses to the tops of your breasts that peek out from your bra, her hands soothing over your hips. 

Her lips feel heavenly on your tits but it’s not enough, and you reach behind your back as you arch off the bed to fumble with the clasp of your bra, which you quickly rid yourself of. Larissa looks up at you through her lashes, her lips curling into a pleased smile as she kisses her way to your right nipple, maintaining eye contact with you as she wraps her lips around the small pink bud.

It hardens almost instantly beneath her tongue, coaxing a moan from her throat that shoots straight to your core and makes you shiver in delight as your eyes fall shut. You can feel her fingertips start to toy with the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips without thinking, silently encouraging Larissa to pull it down. You feel her pause, her tongue stilling against your nipple, so you mumble out a “please, Larissa…” that motivates her to continue, tugging your underwear as far down your legs as she can without releasing your nipple from between her lips - you reach down and bend your legs to tug them off the rest of the way.

Opening your eyes, you realize that Larissa is still very much clothed, and it makes you blush profusely, feeling slightly exposed even in the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the room. “Your turn,” you whisper hoarsely, tracing your fingertips over a crease in the sleeve of Larissa’s dress.

She hums and releases your nipple with a pop, sitting up and making quick work of her dress and stockings before straddling you again, now only in her bra and underwear. “That better, darling?” she purrs, a smirk playing on her lips as she reaches behind herself to undo the clasp of her bra. You nod absentmindedly, barely registering Larissa’s chuckle as your eyes are glued to her chest. She allows the burgundy cups to fall from her breasts, exposing pale, supple skin, her nipples slowly and visibly hardening against the slight chill in the bedroom.

You cannot help the way your gaze traces her body - her defined collarbones and strong, freckled shoulders, a contrast to the softness of her breasts and the slight swell of her stomach where it disappears into lacy underwear, plush thighs that bracket your own naked body. You swallow thickly even as your mouth goes dry, your mind racing to compute how you ended up with this goddess straddling you.

“You’re staring,” Larissa whispers, her voice gentler than before as it pulls you out of your reverie - your gaze snaps up to her face to see her looking down at you affectionately, her smirk having softened slightly.

“S-sorry, continue,” you mumble, feeling your face and chest grow hot - it makes Larissa chuckle, which only makes you blush more. “You’re beautiful,” you blurt out, and that makes Larissa blush, her smile turning shy for only a moment.

“Not quite as beautiful as you,” she counters as she leans back down, the smirk returning to her face and her blush fading rapidly - you’re about to protest when she sucks your pulse point between her lips and flicks her tongue across it, and it draws a moan from your throat as your mind goes blank.

As Larissa settles on top of you, one of her hands buries itself in your hair and the other finds your hip, her thumb caressing your hip bone before slowly traveling lower. You think you hear her mumble something like “so soft” as she moans breathily against your neck, but you’re too distracted by the way your skin feels like it’s on fire beneath her touch and the way her fingernails scratching at your scalp send a noticeable shiver down your spine - one that seems to spur Larissa on as she smiles against your skin and grazes her teeth over the bruise she’s just created, her fingers finding the patch of curls between your legs.

It brings a fresh wave of heat to your core, some of your arousal trickling out of you in anticipation, and you ease your hands in her hair, unsure of what else to do with them aside from fist at the sheets. Apparently this was the right move - as you give Larissa’s hair a tug, she moans and gives yours a tug in return. You can feel her smile against your skin, clearly enjoying herself as she marks your neck in hues of red and purple, and the thought of her enjoying herself just by pleasing you turns you on even more as you buck your hips impatiently, your clit throbbing with need.

A soft chuckle vibrates against the underside of your jaw and then Larissa’s fingers have found your clit and pressed down lightly, and the touch alone is nearly enough to make stars explode behind your eyes. “Fuck,” you moan breathily, and it makes Larissa chuckle again and raise her head to watch you as you tilt your own head backwards, your eyes scrunched shut. 

A smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as her fingertips slide lower, dipping into the arousal gathered between your folds - and, fuck, does it feel heavenly, your breath catching in your throat as her lips find your neck again and kiss a slow, sensual trail up to your ear, matching the pace of her fingers exploring your cunt. Your hands slide from her hair to her shoulders, thumbs gently and absentmindedly caressing her collarbones in a subconscious effort to ground yourself and keep yourself from floating away.

As Larissa’s fingers circle your entrance, teasing the dripping hole, your stomach sinks a little. There’s one thing you haven’t mentioned to Larissa yet - it didn’t seem necessary when you weren’t having sex and now that you suddenly are, you’re not quite sure how to say it without ruining the mood. 

When you’d first broached the subject of masturbation with your friends, you quickly realized you were a bit different - whereas your peers shared recommendations for vibrators or, later, mentioned casually how big their boyfriends were, you could barely fit the tip of your own finger inside of yourself. When you did manage to push past it and go a bit deeper, it stung like hell, and no amount of lube or curling your finger against your supposed sweet spot made it any more pleasurable.

But maybe it’s different when it’s someone else, you think. Maybe it’s different when it’s Larissa; gorgeous, sexy, patient Larissa - because you’re more turned on than you ever have been, you’re absolutely drenched, and Larissa is being so sweet and so gentle. So, maybe, it won’t hurt if she does it. 

It does. 

You can tell as she slips the tip of her finger into your entrance that she’s not going to get very far, and your grip on her shoulders tightens just as much as your vaginal walls do, your stomach slowly but surely tying itself into a knot. 

“Breathe, darling,” Larissa coos. “Relax for me…” She thinks you’re just nervous, she doesn’t realize yet that it doesn’t feel good at all, and you don’t know how to tell her without ruining the mood so you bite your lip. 

“Is this alright?” Larissa’s voice is breathy with desire as she sinks her finger slowly into you, and you cling desperately to the hope that, the farther she gets, it will start to feel nice - you hope it will start to feel the way all your friends have described it to you, that the pain will give way to pleasure.

It doesn’t. 

It feels just the same as when you do it - like she’s scraping at your walls, like putting a tampon in dry, even though you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Your walls are clenching around Larissa’s finger, though it’s not sexy, it’s painful, but how do you say something when she’s clearly enjoying herself? And what if she reacts the way most of your friends have done, with incredulous disbelief? What if she wants to stop entirely?

You’re so lost in your own mind that you don’t realize Larissa’s finger has stilled inside of you, no longer sinking further into you. She’s pulled back to watch your face again, your lack of verbal response to her question coupled with your fingernails digging painfully into her shoulder having quickly signaled to her that something isn’t quite right. The look on your face confirms it, your eyes screwed shut and your brow furrowed but not quite in bliss, and Larissa uses her free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and trace her fingertips along your cheekbone. 

“Darling? Are you alright?” 

Your eyes snap open and your stomach sinks further at the look of concern in the shapeshifter’s eyes, a pit forming at the idea of disappointing her. 

“Does this hurt?”

A beat. 

A moment where the world stands still and you feel your blood go cold as you struggle to articulate exactly what you’re feeling. 

You nod. 

“I’m going to pull out,” Larissa whispers instantly, her tone so soft and gentle that you can feel a film of tears forming over your eyes. You nod again and Larissa pulls her finger out of you as slowly as she can. The relief when your cunt is empty again is palpable, your grip on Larissa’s shoulders instantly loosening, and you watch in amazement, briefly distracted, as she sucks her finger between her lips to lick it clean as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, suppressing a little hum before adjusting her body against yours and cupping your cheek.

She rests her chin on your chest and looks up at you with big, sparkling blue eyes, eyes that shine with concern and affection in equal measure, her gaze so sincere that you have to look away for a moment and take a deep, steadying breath, bringing your hands to the back of Larissa’s neck to play with the stray blonde wisps at the base of her skull.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, your face suddenly feeling hot as a blush rises to your cheeks - you find yourself blinking rapidly to keep your tears at bay. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Larissa says softly, her thumb stroking back and forth across your cheekbone as her brow creases. “What happened?”

“I-it just doesn’t feel g-good, I guess…” you mumble, taking another deep breath as you think for a moment how you’d like to word what you have to say. Larissa can tell you’re thinking hard and she waits patiently - you can feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your body, her thumb on your cheekbone and her other hand resting on your shoulder, rubbing tenderly at your skin. “It… just kind of hurts… penetration, I mean… I have vaginismus, so I’ve never even really been able to use tampons or anything, either…”

Understanding floods Larissa’s features at your mention of vaginismus and she nods gently against your chest, waiting for you to continue - you don’t, you don’t really know what else to say.

“Does it hurt when you touch yourself, too?” she asks curiously, breaking the silence that, at least for you, has become somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah… I’ve never understood why people like it so much, or how it’s supposed to feel good.”

Larissa smiles softly at that. “Well, what feels good to you?”

You feel the heat of your darkening blush as you, once again, grapple for the right words, vulnerability flooding your veins as you lay yourself bare for Larissa. “A-anything on the outside, I guess… like touching my clit…”

As you speak, Larissa starts to slide the hand that was on your cheek down your body, fingertips lightly caressing the side of your breast, the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, until they’ve reached your venus mound. “Does this feel good?” she husks, her fingertips grazing over your clit in a circle, just as before, her gaze staying trained on your face.

The gasp you let out as your hands slide back into Larissa’s updo tells her all she needs to know - a smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as you give her hair a pull, and she applies a bit more pressure to your clit, watching as your eyes fall shut and your head lolls back against the pillow, your back arching off the bed. 

“Will you tell me if you want to stop?” she asks softly, her voice an octave lower than before.

“Y-yes - I-I mean, I d-don’t wanna stop,” you murmur, a wave of pleasure washing over you as her fingers slide between your folds again. This time, they only ghost over your entrance, enough to gather your arousal on her fingertips and smear it across your clit as she starts to massage the bundle of nerves. 

Her lips find your sternum and she lets out a deep hum that vibrates against your skin as she kisses her way down the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. It’s not until her free hand comes to rest on your thigh that you open your eyes and look down at Larissa, the sight of the blonde between your legs drawing a moan from your chest.

“Spread your legs a bit for me,” she purrs, smirking when you immediately do as you’re told. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flips and you grind your hips a little harder against Larissa’s fingers, the coil behind your navel beginning to tighten as she praises you. 

“Tell me if this doesn’t feel good,” she whispers, pressing her lips to your inner thigh and gently nipping and sucking at the soft flesh, her hooded eyes never leaving your own. She removes her fingers from your clit and the whine that escapes your throat at the loss makes you blush - you don’t have time to be embarrassed, however, as her fingers are replaced with her lips wrapping around your clit. 

Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, a deep, guttural moan vibrating against your cunt as she starts to suck your clit - the feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Your hands curl into fists in her hair, your body tensing, and Larissa wraps her arms securely around your thighs, her own hands rubbing your skin in a soothing manner.

“Relax, darling, I’ve got you,” she coos breathlessly, before licking a path up your slit, exploring your folds with her tongue. It dips into your entrance only the tiniest bit, then finds its way back to your clit to stimulate the throbbing bud with little kitten licks. The deep breath you take comes back out as a moan, and you try to do as you’re told and let Larissa pleasure you without getting in your head about it. 

It’s hard at first but you slowly start to relax, your trust in Larissa growing with every flick of her tongue as your mind empties itself of doubt - there’s not a trace of pain, only overwhelming, earth-shattering pleasure, and what little embarrassment was left inside of you has long since evaporated into thin air as your orgasm looms ever closer.

Larissa can tell you’re getting close by the way your thighs are beginning to shake in her hold, your hips bucking wantonly against her face as you become a little bolder, trying to take control and fuck yourself on her tongue. She can’t help but smile a bit, moaning a little louder than before for your benefit and enjoying the way it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“F-fffuck, Riss, th-think ‘m g-gonna cum…” you moan, unaware of how you’re subconsciously pushing Larissa’s head down and how your thighs are threatening to snap shut around her ears. You cum with another flick of Larissa’s tongue, your jaw falling slack to let out a moan that sounds so pornographic that you can’t quite believe it’s come out of your own mouth.

You feel like you’re floating, and it feels so good that you don’t realize that one of Larissa’s arms has left your thigh until she moans as well and you look down to see Larissa writhing against the bed - one hand clearly stuck in her underwear as she masturbates to the sound, the feeling, the sight of you coming undone on her tongue.

Blown pupils meet your own beneath mascara-coated lashes, Larissa looking hungrily up at you from between your legs, her lips still wrapped around your clit, and you can feel her smirk grow against your cunt as she bucks her own hips against her hand. Her gaze never wavers, though her eyelashes do flutter a bit as she works herself to the edge - her fingernails dig almost painfully into your thigh and her breathing becomes slow and shallow as her body begins to tremble.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you moan - with Larissa now cumming all over her own fingers, the need to touch her has become overwhelming, and you tug insistently at her hair, relaxing your thighs so that they’re no longer flush against Larissa’s ears. She releases your clit and pulls her hand out of her underwear, pushing herself up on all fours and crawling up your body until she’s resting beside you. She goes to cup your cheek and you turn your head, taking her fingers into your mouth. 

Larissa’s pupils dilate further as she watches you suck her arousal off her fingers, your cheeks hollowing out and your eyes fluttering shut as your tongue teases the seam of her fingers - she tastes so fucking good that you can’t help but moan, your cunt clenching and your hands seeking out Larissa’s waist to pull her closer, one hand sliding down her hip and tugging at her thigh to encourage her to hook it over your own. 

You release her fingers with a pop and open your eyes to find Larissa swallowing thickly, her lips parting and her tongue darting out to wet them - her gaze has fallen to your own lips and it gives you the encouragement you need to kiss her.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” you mumble against her lips, drawing a moan from her chest as she deepens the kiss. She licks into your mouth, full of enthusiasm and need, her hands tangling in your hair and her nails gently raking along your scalp.

Taking the lead, Larissa starts to rock her hips - her underwear is soaked and it makes your skin prickle with heat where her cunt rubs against your thigh. Your hand slides up to her hip, just feeling it roll sensually beneath your palm for a moment, before you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and give it a tug. Larissa helps you, moving her hips and placing her hand atop yours as you slide it down as far as it’ll go - she breaks the kiss as she kicks it off the rest of the way, then cups your cheek and crashes her lips against yours once more.

“Touch me,” Larissa sighs as she deepens the kiss, grinding her clit against your thigh, spreading her slick across your skin - you don’t need to be told twice, twisting in her arms to get just enough distance between the two of you so that you can trail your fingertips down her stomach. 

Touching Larissa feels like a heavenly privilege - her abdomen rippling beneath your touch, the soft patch of curls on her venus mound, her hands sliding into your hair, long fingers twisting and holding you in place as her soft, velvety tongue brushes against your own. You slip your hand between her legs, swiping two fingers up her slit - they glide effortlessly towards her clit with how aroused she is, her slick silky against your fingertips as you trace a circle around her clit and revel in the way Larissa’s hips twitch at the contact, the way her breath hitches against your lips.

Your other hand slides up Larissa’s waist, tracing the underside of her breast before cupping it and giving it a gentle squeeze - Larissa arches into your touch with a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan, her lips curling into a smile against yours.

“F-ffeels g-good,” she murmurs. “K-keep going…” 

You take your time circling her clit and exploring her folds, and it’s making your own arousal reach new heights as you feel how Larissa responds to your touch. Every time your fingers trace around her entrance Larissa’s hips buck harder against your hand - your breath is shallow with anticipation as you decide to slip one finger inside of her, and then you stop breathing entirely for a moment as you feel Larissa’s walls, warm and wet and unbelievably soft, clench around you.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, pulling away from the kiss for just a moment to regain your breath. Larissa’s breathing is just as ragged as your own and, as you meet her gaze, you see just how desperately turned on she is. “C-can I add another finger?” you stutter out, and it makes Larissa chuckle a little as she nods and rocks her hips.

You add a second finger and her walls clench again - it’s a bit of a tighter fit and it has your own walls clenching in tandem with hers as you sink your fingers as deep inside of her as you can, watching her face carefully for any sign of pain, or any sign you’re doing something wrong. You’re only met with pleasure and bliss, however, Larissa’s lips parting as her head tips back a bit and her eyelashes flutter as she fights to keep her eyes on yours.

You might not enjoy penetration but it’s clear Larissa does - her hips grind in time with each pump of your fingers, her grip in your hair tightening as her body tenses and arches with each ministration. You’ve added your thumb to the mix, lightly massaging her swollen clit as your other hand fondles her chest, pinching and pulling at her nipple and squeezing the soft, supple flesh. 

Larissa’s moans pick up in volume as you pick up your pace, a string of soft, breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s falling from her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and her brow creases as her cunt clenches particularly hard around your fingers, and you can feel by the way her thighs have begun to tremble that she’s close. You’re unable to kiss her properly as her jaw keeps falling a little slack, so you press your lips to her neck and start to suck and nibble at her pulse point, hoping to tip her over the edge.

“Mmmh… c-can you add another?” 

Larissa’s mumbled words confuse you for a moment and you’re about to hum in question against her neck when understanding floods your system - you push in a third finger with your next thrust, feeling Larissa stretch around you, and her moans go from soft and breathy to deep and guttural as her hips stutter.

It only takes a few more pumps of your fingers to send her over the edge, her hands tugging painfully at your hair as her arousal coats your fingers, the knot behind her navel snapping and sending her into orbit. You can feel her chest heave beneath your hand as she arches her back, her head lolling back against the pillow and offering you better access to her neck as her hips lose their rhythm entirely and her entire body tenses beneath you. 

You continue to fuck her through her high, until her body starts to relax and sink into the mattress, her cunt now merely twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Your hand leaves her breast to thread itself into her hair and your thumb stills against her clit as you stop pumping your fingers. Her own hands loosen their grip in your hair, just resting against your head as she holds you in place to take deep, steadying breaths. 

“Is it okay if I pull out?” you whisper between soft, lazy kisses to Larissa’s neck, and you wait for her nod before you gently remove your fingers from her cunt. Larissa’s hand searches blindly for your wrist, lifting it gingerly, and you raise your head to watch as she wraps her lips around your fingers and sucks, humming softly. 

She looks so goddamn ethereal, her face flushed, her forehead slicked with sweat that her little platinum curls are sticking to, her brow fully relaxed, only a shadow of a crease visible. When she opens her eyes to meet your gaze, she releases your fingers from between her lips and smiles, pushing herself up slightly on the bed and wrapping her arms around you to pull you on top of her. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” she whispers, her voice slightly hoarse, and you bite your lip as you curl into her. 

“Really good,” you mumble. “I should be asking you that…”

Larissa chuckles. “So ask me.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” she repeats, her voice teasing - but the sparkle in her eyes as she looks down at you confirms her words, and it makes you blush. 

Larissa’s fingertips dance along your spine for a bit - it grounds you, making you feel safer and more loved than you ever have in your life. Her lips pepper tender kisses to every inch of skin that she can reach, and her legs intertwine themselves with yours in an effort to hold you close.

“You know, darling, penetration isn’t everything,” she whispers after a while. “There are so many things we can do that don’t involve penetration at all…” Larissa’s tone is suggestive and a fresh wave of arousal pools in your core at her words, all sorts of sinful ideas running through your mind.

“Yeah?” you croak out, your voice betraying your growing desire. “Why don’t you show me then?”

You look up just in time to catch the widening of Larissa’s pupils as she smirks down at you, and her hand starts to make its way down your hip, giving your thigh a tug. “I just might…”

x

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A/N: I'm always here (even if I'm not posting) to talk about vaginismus and anything else of that nature 🤍 much love and thank you for reading 🤍

[writingforstraykids]

Hellooo

Headcanons on how each skz member will be with a tiny petite m!reader who is scared of thunder? Like very scared and he sometimes cries.. 🥺🤗

Pairing: OT8 x m!reader

Word Count: 1789

A/N: Heyyy, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!!🖤 Posting this earlier cause I'll be busy tomorrow ☺️ Thanks to my pretty sunshine @atinyniki for sharing your thoughts on this with me🥺🖤

When thunder roars, signaling the storm's approach, Chan's instincts kick into high gear, and he immediately shifts into a protective mode. Seeing the distress flash across your face, he doesn't hesitate. With a gentle urgency, he pulls you into his embrace, his arms forming a safe cocoon around you. As lightning slices through the dark sky outside, his hands are soft yet firm on your back, cradling your smaller form with utmost care.

Chan's touch is soothing, and he leans in to whisper calming words into your ear, each syllable designed to reassure and comfort. The rumbling echoes of the storm are countered by the steady rhythm of his heart, beating reassuringly against yours. His lips gently press against the nape of your neck, delivering soft kisses that radiate warmth, melting away the cold fear that the storm brings.

With a nurturing strength, Chan lifts you, carrying you away from the windows where the storm’s fury is most visible. As he walks, his presence is a sturdy, loving shield against your fears. He chats about mundane, everyday things—what you’ll have for dinner, a funny incident from earlier in the week—using normalcy as a distraction. His voice, mixed with the security of his arms, helps to anchor you, turning the storm outside into a distant concern, as you find solace in his protective embrace.

Initially, Minho might chuckle, mistaking your reaction to the storm for just a quirky fear until he catches the real terror in your eyes. As the realization dawns on him, his smile fades and is quickly replaced by a look of concern. Regret flickers across his face for having laughed, understanding now that your fear is genuine and profound. His demeanor softens significantly, and he steps closer, his movements filled with newfound care and empathy.

Minho reaches out and gently takes your trembling hands in his. He lifts them, pressing soft kisses to each knuckle, his lips lingering slightly as if to absorb some of your anxiety. Each kiss is tender, an apology woven into the warmth of his touch, and a silent promise to be more attuned to your feelings. His voice, when he speaks, is low and soothing, a stark contrast to the howling wind and thunder outside.

As the storm continues to unleash its fury, Minho stays close by your side, his presence a calming force. His touches remain light and reassuring, fingertips brushing against your arm or back in a comforting rhythm. This physical connection helps to ground you, pulling your senses away from the tumult of the storm and back to the safety of the room. Minho's earlier jests are completely forgotten, replaced by genuine concern and a deep-seated affection that makes you feel cared for and understood, even amidst the chaos of the storm.

The moment Changbin sees your discomfort, he acts with intuitive kindness, a softness spreading across his features. He notices the slight tremble in your shoulders and the uneasy shift of your gaze toward the window where the storm rages. Without a word, he reaches out, his movements gentle and inviting, and gently pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you securely. His embrace is a fortress, his arms a barrier between you and your fears.

As he holds you close, Changbin begins to hum softly, his voice deep and melodious. Slowly, the humming transitions into singing—soft, almost whisper-like. The lyrics may be forgotten, shifting with each verse, but the melody is soothing, a flowing river of calm. As he sings, his chest vibrates against your back, the sensation both comforting and grounding, a physical reminder that you’re not alone, that there is someone to share the burden of your fears.

His nurturing presence remains steadfast as the storm continues to unleash its fury outside. His song blends with the sound of the rain and the occasional thunder, creating a powerful lullaby that soothes your rattled nerves. Changbin’s care doesn’t waver until the last echoes of thunder fade away, ensuring that his comforting presence is the last thing you feel as the storm passes.

Hyunjin's approach is tender and heartfelt, radiating warmth and reassurance in the midst of the storm's fury. As you flinch with each thunderclap, tears begin to streak down your cheeks, shimmering trails of vulnerability. Hyunjin notices immediately, his heart tightening at the sight. He leans in closer, his presence enveloping. Gently, he catches each tear with soft kisses, his lips a comforting touch against your damp skin. His actions are deliberate and caring, aiming to soothe and reassure.

With careful fingers, he brushes away the wet strands of hair clinging to your forehead and cheeks, his touch as light as a feather. His smile, tender and understanding, shines like a beacon in the darkened room, offering a sense of safety and warmth. As he tucks a stray lock behind your ear, his eyes lock with yours, communicating a silent vow to protect and comfort.

Hyunjin's presence is calming, his arms encircling you in a protective embrace. He begins to speak softly, his voice a steady, soothing timbre as he describes the beauty he finds in the storm—how the lightning illuminates the sky with artful flashes, how the rain nourishes the earth. His words weave a tapestry of wonder, gently pulling your focus away from fear, helping you to see the storm through his eyes as something awe-inspiring rather than terrifying.

In the tense atmosphere brought on by the storm, Jisung transforms into the light-hearted reliever, his sole mission to bring a smile to your face. As thunder rumbles ominously outside, he counters the gloom with his arsenal of quirks. Jisung begins by pulling goofy faces, his eyebrows dancing comically as he puffs his cheeks or sticks out his tongue. When that earns a hesitant smile, he escalates to telling corny jokes, each punchline delivered with a dramatic flair that's almost impossible not to giggle at.

Noticing a slight lift in your spirits, Jisung doesn't stop there. He starts performing small, ridiculous dances right there in the living room, his limbs flailing with exaggerated movements that are both awkward and endearing. His silliness pierces through the heavy curtain of your anxiety, coaxing out a genuine laugh.

Seeing the effect he’s having, Jisung gently steps closer and cups your face with his warm hands. He lowers himself to bring your gazes level, his eyes sparkling with mischief and kindness. His playful nature is a deliberate choice, showing that he understands the weight of your fear and respects it. Jisung’s antics, far from trivializing the situation, highlight his dedication to comforting you. He's willing to be the goofy idiot if it means seeing you smile, demonstrating his deep care and affection in the most Jisung way possible.

At the first rumble of thunder, Felix reacts almost instinctively, his protective instincts kicking in. He swiftly moves to your side, bringing a glass of water with him as a soothing gesture. He sits close, his body turned towards you, offering both his presence and the comfort of physical closeness. Felix's voice is soft and encouraging, a gentle reminder in the dimly lit room to take deep breaths and try to relax.

His concern is evident as he periodically checks on you, asking if you’re okay or need anything else. Every few minutes, he gently encourages you to take a sip of water, ensuring you stay hydrated and helping to ground you. Felix’s attentiveness doesn’t waver; he’s like a guardian angel attuned to your every need. His hands offer occasional reassuring pats on your back or squeezes of your hand, each touch reinforcing his support.

Felix’s proximity throughout the storm is a comforting constant. He remains by your side, ready to help with a calmness that belies his own concern, ensuring that his protective nature and deep empathy envelop you. His readiness to assist and his soothing presence help to mitigate the fear, making the storm outside seem a little less daunting with him there to weather it with you.

Seungmin might initially respond to the storm with light-hearted teasing, not fully grasping the depth of your fear until he sees the flinch in your eyes. The laughter fades as he notices the real anxiety painted across your face, and a pang of regret immediately washes over him. His apology comes swiftly, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable. You can see the slight tension in his eyes as he worries about having unintentionally deepened your distress.

Determined to make amends, Seungmin shifts his approach entirely. The remainder of the storm is marked by his careful attentiveness. His words become softer, infused with kindness and reassurance, and his actions more considerate. He stays close by your side, his presence a comforting constant as the storm bellows outside. Every so often, he asks if you're feeling alright or if there’s anything you need, his tone gentle and patient.

Seungmin's demeanor now embodies a quiet solidarity. He shares in your discomfort, not with words but through the warm, steady pressure of his hand in yours, and the attentive gaze that rests on you, ensuring you feel seen and supported. His earlier teasing is completely replaced by a supportive companionship, showing you that he is truly there for you, regretful of his initial reaction and committed to helping you feel safe.

Jeongin's reaction to your visible distress during the storm is immediate and palpable, mirroring the chaos of the thunder and lightning raging outside. At first, his frantic attempts to soothe you might seem to amplify the tension, his hurried movements and anxious questions reflecting his own concern. However, realizing that his initial response might be contributing to your anxiety, Jeongin takes a deep breath, visibly composing himself for your sake.

With newfound calm, he gently takes your hands, guiding you closer. Carefully, he pulls you into his lap, his arms encircling you in a secure yet gentle embrace. He starts rocking slightly back and forth, a soothing rhythm that mimics the comforting sway of a cradle. As he holds you, Jeongin begins to murmur reassuring words close to your ear, each sentence laced with warmth and a quiet strength. His voice, steady and soft, becomes a reassuring presence that counters the noise of the storm.

This moment marks a significant transition for Jeongin, from initial panic to a composed protector. His ability to regain control and provide support showcases his growth in handling unexpected situations effectively. Within the circle of his arms, you both find a peaceful sanctuary. The storm outside may continue to roar, but within Jeongin’s embrace, there is a growing sense of calm and safety, his protective presence helping to gradually dissolve the fear, drawing both of you closer to tranquility amidst the turmoil.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[hitomisuzuya]

Hi!! I love your writing so much and was wondering if I could request a fluffy Scara fic? I came home from a bad day at work and was pretty overstimulated which lead to a meltdown and was wondering if you could write a a fic where Scara calms his s/o down after a bad day?

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluffy fluff fluff. Comfort. Soft Scara. I know my fluff doesn't hit as well. Who is even gonna see this..

Hello, dear❤️ I'm sorry this took so long to get to, and it's probably not relevant anymore, but I hope you are feeling better🥺 and thank you❤️

Scaramouche is very in tune to your moods. He knew the moment he saw you that you were overwhelmed. He could even tell that from the way you were breathing. Your eyes were wide, and you were shaking a little.

Without saying anything, you did the first thing you always do when you are having a bad day. Sit down in front of him and rest your head in his lap. His hand was coming to hover over your head when you spoke, "Today sucked. Today sucked so much," Your voice shook a little bit as you nuzzled your cheek into his lap.

Scaramouche's breath hitched in his throat. You were clinging to him, your hand holding onto the fabric of his shorts. This wasn't uncharacteristic for you in the slightest, but what he did notice was that your hand was grasping that little bunch of fabric a little tighter. "Talk. Tell me what happened?" He stroked a hand through your hair.

The moment you felt his hand stroke through your hair, you felt the tension in your body being eased. Head pets really do go a long way. You nuzzled your cheek against his lap again. "I couldn't do anything right all day. No matter what I did. And all I did was get in the way," Your words sounds shaky, the tears that you had been struggling to hold back fell from your eyes. "And you know I hate being in the way."

Scaramouche knew you were doing your best to try and hide the fact that you were crying. He rubbed his fingers gently along your scalp. "Stop that," He said softly once he was sure you were finished speaking. He could never stand when you cried. "And you aren't in the way. The world around you gets in your way, not the other way around. Life is funny like that, no?"

You couldn't help but laugh a little. Scaramouche said that in a tone that implied it was true because he said it was. He breathed out a soft sigh of relief hearing you laugh.

The longer his hand stroked through your hair, the more relaxed you became. You had focused on the sound of his voice. It always had such an affect on you. Any stress from the day was single-handedly being ebbed away.

It was a long few moments before you picked your head up from Scaramouche's lap. The look in your eyes was lighter, and your body didn't look as heavy. "But it's okay now, though," You said, smiling softly at him.

"Hm?" He brushed some hair off of your face, brushing his fingers across your cheek. It was an action he knew would always soothe you.

You turned your cheek into his hand. "It's okay now, and you do wanna know why?" You nuzzled your cheek into his hand before returning it to his lap. You felt Scaramouche's hand immediately find your hair to stroke it again. "It's because I know at the end of the day, after everything is all said and done, none of it matters. Because I get to come home to you."

Scaramouche's cheeks flushed. Look at you. He was one comforting you, and yet somehow, you were comforting him instead.

[ariseur]

hey so uhhhh i got this idea for a sephiroth post 🥺 i was imagining what wouldve happened if his wing developed pre-nibelheim. i imagine bb would be really scared and disgusted with himself and id wanna make him feel better :( bonus points if his wing is an erogenous zone and he doesnt realize it 👀

please, please, please, let me get what i want 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

(the smiths / deftones ref???) omg i forgot how it feels to post on hereee. i miss you guys but i’ve just been super busy because of all my music festivals for school n stuff! thank you for this request it was soo lovely!! 🫶

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of blood, mentions of sephiroths underlying sorrow and yearning for a familiar comfort in his life, i forgot he only has one wing so lmk if i messed up and mentioned two 😭

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1281 words, 7018 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

a contorted face found staring back at itself in the glass of the clear mirror, only the light from the overhead lamps and his reflection ricocheting off of it. sephiroth’s eyebrows furrowed as he held his breath, lungs allowing what seemed to be limited air inside of them, the smell of his shampoo and hair oils still lingering in his nose.

his fingers danced along his wingspan, flinching at the sharp feeling of sores on his back— his eyes flickering towards the once pristine white counter, now littered with black feathers and bloody marks against the marble. he couldn’t soothe the feeling of bile at the back of his throat this time as he shuddered once more, his shaky breaths slipping between his parted lips.

“sephiroth?” he heard at the door followed by a few gentle knocks against the hard wood. his eyes darted to the door, watching as the doorknob slowly jiggled. his hand rushed to the wood, cold against his palm as he urged the door to stay shut.

he sputtered, “i’m indecent.” despite remaining with his cool tone of voice, you couldn’t help but notice the waver in his tone as he winced at the slight strands of hair that fell against his back when he whipped around. he placed his forearm against the door to further stabilize it as he tipped his head back, exhaling sharply through his nose while he heard you scoff out, “nothing i haven’t seen, before.”

his eyebrows furrowed and he scrunched his eyes closed. his back aching with every sharp pain that traveled throughout his upper torso. a cool wave washed over him as he watched the door slowly open, your own brows knitted in concern as you finally let your eyes gaze upon the bloody counter and his almost shameful expression. he didn’t falter in his eye contact, mako irises only following you as you walked into the bathroom and touched one of the strays of black feathers that had fallen atop the sink.

“sit down.” your voice came out soft and gentle, the only sound that dared to interrupt you was the whirring of the air conditioning. sephiroth tilted his head a bit before finally taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet. despite having fragments of a single wing sticking out of his back, he somehow managed to always maintain a straightened posture.

you rummaged through the cabinets under the sink, trying to ignore the small thin trickles of blood that dripped on the floor as you felt for the first aid kit in the very back of the space. you caught a glimpse of sephiroth, staring down at his hands as he almost sneered at himself. seeing him without his shirt on wasn’t anything new, but the way his shoulders tensed up and his breaths shook made your stomach twist. you could’ve sworn his breath hitched as he felt another sharp pain travel through his bones.

as he watched you get up and walk over to his seated frame on the toilet, his eyes stayed glued to the floor until your feet came into view— signaling you were there and ready to finally patch him up. he couldn’t look up, ever too embarrassed to peel his eyes off the tile and up at you as he knew he’d probably meet your concerned gaze.

sephiroth was only worried over when there was something that could ruin his image or his ability to fight, although when did that ever happen much?

it was hard getting accustomed to the feeling of being loved. and not the admiration he received from his fangirls and superiors alike, he knew he was talented— but he didn’t know he was loved. and that was the hardest part of you coming into his life, being able to feel loved and appreciated when you embraced him and not stiffen at just the gentlest brush of your fingertips, so gentle and soft compared to his calloused skin. when he recoiled at your benign touch, it wasn’t out of appallment— it was pure fear for what the next step was and if he was truly ready for this or not.

“sit backwards, sephiroth.” even as you sighed, the way his name left your lips never failed to make his heart skip. he hummed in acknowledgment and changed his position on the toilet lid, wincing at the small gasp you let out once you fully saw his back. the skin was broken as his wing had poked through, and sephiroth didn’t help as he picked at it either. his wing, black and thick coated with a sheen layer of blood from birth. you frowned, who knows how long sephiroth had been containing this.

he let out a small sigh of anticipation, lightly drumming his fingers against his toned thigh as he felt your hands meet his back.

sephiroth’s eyes scrunched close as you moved them along his spine, being careful not to touch the wounds themselves but instead the areas around them. he tried to ignore the growing warmth in his stomach and instead took a deep breath as you finally pressed the alcohol soaked cotton ball against the wound, watching as the white material quickly turned a deep red.

it was only silent for a moment— yet the whirring of the fan was starting to piss you off. sephiroth didn’t say anything either, but you couldn’t blame him. by the flush of his cheeks and the shaky sighs he took, you almost felt as if you were doing something wrong but instead your brain just resorted to the thought of, ‘he’s been at this for a while, he’s just tired.’

you worked your way with dressing his wounds and cleaning his wing, watching as it fluttered beneath your palm.

and when he heard the familiar click of the first aid click closing shut, he maneuvered his way back to face front on the toilet— even if he couldn’t bear to look at you. mako infused eyes stayed glued to his lap, unmoving even as he heard your footsteps shuffle over towards him. another touch as your hand snaked up to cradle his jaw and it was like electricity shot through his body. it took him everything not to flinch away at the foreignness. not to flinch away from the comforting feeling he was so scared he’d fall face first in.

you urged his head to look up at you, having his eyes immediately trail to your soft smile.

“don’t hold it in,” you began, your eyes never failed to make sephiroth melt even in the harshest states, “let me feel you, sephiroth.”

your whispers curved their way into his ears and were now etched in his brain, the absolute adoration that laced your voice now sheathed any shameful thoughts. pulling him into you, sephiroth finally moved his hands away from his lap and wrapped them around your waist as he let himself bury his face into the comfortable place of your stomach. he felt you, he realized. he felt all of you— and he understood now that this was real. fingers reaching for the fabric of your clothes or the arch of your spine made him acknowledge you more than he ever has before. and you could’ve sworn you felt a slight dampness on your shirt.

your kindness was almost too much for him— it was too overwhelming considering he grew up most of his life being tested on and seen for any changes in growth. sephiroth was divine to you, and as you cradled his face within your palm, you realized that you didn’t mind worshipping him as not just a divinity, but as a human.

[yan-lorkai]

Hi Lorkai! I know you have so many requests and you're busy, so it's okay if you'll ignore this one. But it would really mean the world to me if you made this one for me, since i'm going through really hard time in my life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart 🙏🏻🥺❤️

Can you please write about Alucard being very protective and caring for his reader!Darling, who's been suffering from mental abuse from her alchoholic father for so many years? Sometimes this trauma comes back, leaving the reader a sobbing, trembling mess, unable to catch a breath.

I have always seen Alucard as my source of comfort and understanding, and as we have seen in Hellsing Ultimate, even he sheds tears when his traumatic past haunts him in his nightmares. That's why I like to imagine he would treat his beloved reader with great care and gentleness, trying to do everything in his power to keep his Darling safe and reassured that he'll always be there for her. He doesn't want the reader to suffer alone the way he did.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡A/N: Hi, darling. I'm truly sorry to hear that you're going through such a hard time right now and I want you to know that I'm here for you if you want to talk and vent. I'll hope that this can help you, even if only a little. I'm also sending you lots of strength and positivity! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

You clutched your chest, feeling your lungs rise and fall at a frantic pace, a rhythm you couldn't control no matter how hard you tried. Every breath you took felt like fire, scorching your lungs, your throat and your eyes. You knew you needed to breathe, to calm down, but you couldn't remember how. Was this a panic attack? Or was it a heart attack?

Were you dying? Were the screams still echoing through the hallway? Or this was only a nightmare?

You wanted to scream, to let the tears fall, but everything felt frozen. Reality seemed to blur and warp, too real and yet not real enough. The burning sensation intensified, consuming you, threatening to overwhelm you entirely. It felt like the world was closing in, trying to crush you, leaving you powerless and desperate.

If you could find the words, that's how you'd describe the sensation - a brutal, unyielding force.

A noise beside you snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you suddenly sensed his presence. Your beloved's presence, dark and oppressive yet strangely comforting, surrounded by shadows and having a startled expression on his face. You turned towards him, desperate, searching for the air that escaped you, searching for the comfort only he could give you.

The comfort he always gave you. Always present to soothe your fears and worries, always there to wipe your tear and hold you for as long as you need. Nothing, not even Integra could tear you two apart if you were having a bad time.

Alucard spent years dealing with his problems, completely alone. He forgot how the feeling is but he still remember the anguish, how draining it was, how difficult. There was no way he would let you deal with this alone.

"Darling, you're exhaling too much. Focus on my voice." Tears streamed down your cheeks, and he wiped them away with his gloveless fingers. His figure wavered before you, but his presence was unmistakable, his familiar cologne grounding you. "Breathe in, through your nose, little one."

Your eyes widened as the world seemed to crash down on your exhausted mind. You felt trapped in darkness, fumbling blindly for the light, searching for cracks on the walls and beneath doors. Searching for a way to stop the voices and the screams, wincing when Alucard's hands rested gently on your shoulders.

Stumbling through the tunnel's darkness, you saw no light, no end, no switch to bring relief. No tool to fix what was broken. Cold sweat clinged to your skin as you struggled to call for him.

His touch cool and steady, he knelt before you while he watched you. Watched pain and shame painting your face, how you bit your lips till they were bruised and bloody, eyelashes wet from your tears. "Listen to me," Alucard repeated softly, his voice a lifeline in the chaos. "Breathe in, through your nose, slowly."

You tried to follow his instructions, drawing in a shaky breath through your nose. The air felt thick, like it was fighting you, but you persisted, clinging to his voice, clinging to him as if without him beside you, you'd die. Alucard's presence was a safe haven, a stark contrast to the darkness that had you snared.

"Good," He murmured, his voice soothing. His hands were twiching, wanting to hold you but hesitant to do so. You needed space to breath and smothering you on his chest wouldn't do you any good. "Now hold it for a moment."

You held your breath, feeling your heart race as you struggled to maintain control. Alucard's fingers traced small, comforting circles on your back, trying to keep you on the present moment and not letting you sink back into your nightmare where you saw your drunk father pacing around the kitchen, slamming everything on the counter and screaming.

This was over, this was the past and here is the now, the place where you didn't have to fear.

"Now, let it out slowly, through your mouth." He whispered.

You exhaled, your breath trembling, but the burning began to ease just a little. Alucard's eyes, crimson and intense, never left yours. "Again," He urged gently, holding your hands tenderly.

You repeated the process, inhaling deeply, holding it then exhaling slowly. It was difficult and hard, relapsing every few seconds whenever your conscious remind you what your father used to scream. Yet each breath brought a tiny bit of relief, the panic slowly losing its grip though it's tendrils were still curled around your throat, holding it. Alucard's presence anchored you, his shadows swimming around you and all over you, like a giant blanket, enveloping you.

"That's it," He whispered, his voice like a soothing balm. "Keep going. You're doing well."

With each breath, the burning in your chest and throat began to subside. The world started to come back into focus, the overwhelming blur receding.

"You're safe, darling." It was true. With him, you were always safe. Always loved and protected. And you never knew fear from the day you started calling him yours. Your lover, your adorable vampire. "I'm here with you."

You nodded weakly, the tears still streaming down your face, but now because of the relief you felt. Alucard's words, his presence and his unwavering support slowly pulled you back from the edge. Like he did once, like he promised to do again and again, no matter how many time he need to.

After a few more breaths, the darkness wasn't completely gone but it was tolerable. You looked up at Alucard, exhaustion evident in your eyes as you let your head fall into his neck.

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice hoarse. Tired.

Alucard gave you a small, reassuring smile. "You're never alone, darling. Nothing can hurt, everything is fine now. You can rest now."

He gently pulled you into an embrace, his arms enveloping you in a protective hold that felt like a fortress protecting you against the chaos within and around you. His embrace was firm, tender, and the warmth of his body seeped into yours.

You let yourself sink deeper into his arms, feeling the remnants of fear and panic gradually receding. The sensations that had overwhelmed you - burning lungs, blurring vision, the oppressive weight of dread - began to dissolve in the cocoon of his hug. The profound sense of safety and comfort he provided overshadowed everything else.

The world that had seemed so overwhelming and distorted slowly began to right itself. Colors sharpened, sounds became clearer, and the crushing weight on your chest lifted, replaced by the gentle pressure of your heart beating and Alucard humming slowly.

And for now, that was enough.

It was enough to be in his arms. It was enough when he pulled you to lie down again and arranged the covers around you. And it was enough when he let a little kiss on your temple, so reverent, so warm. For now, your heart was buzzing with warm feelings, your worries forgotten while you stared at his very beautiful red eyes.

[earthry]

Can i ask for papas who told reader to not get attached to them and had secret relationship, until they realised 'oh... I think i was wrong' ?(bonus point for them being jealous, because another sibling flirting with reader)

Thank you and sorry if i bother you🥺❤

Of course you can!! Thank you for the prompt it was so delicious aslkdf it kind of got away from me but hopefully this was what you were looking for 💕

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, manipulation (not from any papas), happy endings for all regardless

Primo

Primo is gentle about telling you not to get attached.

"Don't get too comfortable, little flower." "Remember my rosebud, this is temporary." "We are not exclusive, my morningstar."

He thinks he's doing a kindness by always reminding you that things between the two of you are casual, making sure you're aware that you are just one of many in his garden of plenty.

I think he’d be a little more aware of his growing feelings than any of his brothers, but still catches it too late. By the time he realizes he can’t bring himself to call things off or put some distance between the two of you.

He realized just how much he loves having you by his side. Not just as a lover, but as a companion and a friend. Someone to talk about plants and books to, someone who cares about him enough to swing by the garden often with a snack and water to hydrate when he’s been working under the sun for too long.

The first time you fall into bed together since his realization, he doesn’t remind you about the nature of your relationship, and you’re too nervous to ask until after. He’s cleaned up and slips under the covers with you before pulling you into his arms — he probably doesn’t do this too often because it feels vulnerable. You feel your heart pounding and timidly ask him what’s going on.

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.” You stiffen and he soothes you, “Not you, never you, tesoro.”

He admits his feelings for you, and you get teary and blubber that you feel the same and he asks you for your forgiveness, taking your hand in his and pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to the back of it.

You two haven’t quite made it official yet, wanting to ease into things naturally— however when he sees a sibling-in-sin flirting with you boldly, he steps in with a growl, the most aggressive you’ve ever seen him before.

“Perhaps you weren’t aware, but here at the ministry, we keep filthy hands off what isn’t ours.” He has a possessive arm around your waist and leans into to brush his lips against your brow.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my petal.” His voice is so much softer when he addresses you, “Is this stronzo bothering you?”

The sibling-of-sin quickly stammers their apologies and scampers off, and before you can really even process what just happened, his lips are on yours. He kisses you hungrily, claiming you as his in the open courtyard where everyone can see.

When he eventually pulls back, your lips are red and swollen to his satisfaction and you give him a look to which he gives you another kiss but it's a much more tame peck this time. "Mi dispiace amore mio. I just couldn't help myself."

Secondo

Secondo was your first-- something you gave to him freely despite his clear warning before taking you to bed.

Still you had your sights set and the idea of taking your innocence was too delicious to Secondo to decline. You weren't the first one he'd corrupted, and you wouldn't be the last (as painful as it is to think about it, you're very keenly aware of this fact).

For your first time, he was the perfect lover, considerate and slow, coaxing you to open up for him in ways you never thought to give to another man. He takes you like you're lovers and it does nothing for the growing feelings you've been having for him as of late except now you know what it feels like to be wrapped up in his arms, now you know how it feels to have his lips on yours, how it feels to take him inside you, to feel so full of him that you see stars.

For him, you're just another conquest, another sibling-in-sin he's deflowered and another body to pull into bed on lonely nights. He usually doesn't think much of it. He has all his bases covered after all. He makes sure of it, reminding his partners that they are not the only ones, that they are here to have fun.

He may not party as much as he did in his youth, but when he did there would always be someone new on his arm and someone new he'd take to bed.

In a way he knows it's also to protect himself, he knows that most if not all of them are vying for Papa's attention, for Papa's favor. Not Secondo's.

He knows it's the Ministry's fault primarily, for twisting him into this shape, for building such a reputation in his image to where he is now. But despite the resentment he feels he can't help the desires that are conditioned into him for this lifestyle.

He doesn't let people in easily as a result, but with you it was almost inevitable.

You had been so shy when he had taken you that first time. Not that you weren't eager, but he was so used to other siblings being sly and seductive, wanting him to do the honors so they would have a story to give when all was over.

You however, were so anxious and timid as he laid you out onto the bed that he couldn't help but reassure you. At first he thought perhaps it was an act, but judging how tight you were wound up, he knew you had to be genuinely nervous. He was extra gentle with you, more than he had ever been with anyone before, and oh, the small smiles you gave in his direction when he comforted you were addicting.

He doesn't normally do repeats, doesn't like taking the same person to bed more than a handful of times but with you he just couldn't help himself.

There was something new to learn about you each time, and soon your relationship evolved to something more than just in the bedroom.

It started small; a book you quoted he recognizes that turns into an hour long conversation about the author's greatest and not so greatest works. Stopping by his office during the day to offer coffee or a short break to discuss literature.

He starts looking forwards to your visits, to those little moments before or after he's taken you to bed. But one thing he's always kept firm on is that you never stay the night.

It's his one rule he's maintained for years to keep feelings and sex separate and it's always worked. You don't particularly know about this rule of his however, so when you finally ask if you can stay the night with him, you feel like you've been brought back to earth with his rejection.

You only have yourself to blame really. He had always said from the very beginning not to get attached. It was your fault for thinking that after the two of you had gotten a little closer that maybe, just maybe things had changed. You were wrong.

Secondo feels terrible for telling you no, but he has his rules for a reason. However, that night as he lays in bed alone he can't help imagining what it would be like to hold you in his arms, to tuck you against his chest and feel your heartbeat firm against his.

Secondo is a smart man, and he knows when he's made a mistake. He resolves to make it up to you in the morning, to pull you aside and set things straight. It had taken time for him to realize how he felt for you but now that he does, he doesn't intent on letting you go.

Unfortunately for him, he can't seem to find you all day, and in the evening he asks around and manages to find some of your friends who tell him that you had not been feeling good.

He feels a pang of guilt for being so harsh with you last night, and asks where your room is.

When he finds you, you're being comforted by a sibling-in-sin. You've been crying on and off all day and right now you're in one of your low moods as the sibling holds you in their arms.

"You should forget about him, he doesn't deserve you." The sibling soothes, "He doesn't care about you like I do, I would treat you so well."

Yeah, Secondo does not like that one bit. First of all, the possessiveness he feels seeing you in someone else's arms, but also manipulation in the form of comfort to someone at their lowest is something he doesn't condone.

Things happen fast and suddenly you're in his arms pressed against his chest as he holds you bridal style. The sibling looks shocked and a little shameful when Secondo sneers at him. "Cazzo di merda, I don't think so. If I ever see you near them again, I will tear you to pieces from limb to limb." His mismatched eyes flash dangerously, and the sibling immediately books it.

He then looks down to you in his arms, his gaze softening as he takes in your red eyes and puffy cheeks. "Amore mio," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "We have much to talk about, including my apology for being so foolish last night."

He takes you to his room where sits against the headboard with you still tucked in his arms. He doesn't let go or put you down even once.

"Mi dispiace, tesoro. I should not have said no last night."

You are quiet for a long time, and he can't help the nervousness that begins to crawl under his skin. "Yeah, you were kind of an asshole." You finally say.

He can't help the chuckle that escapes but agrees with you. "Mm, si I was an asshole, wasn't I? Will you allow me to try making it up to you, amore mio? We can start over, do this right."

"Start... over?" You sound hesitant, unsure what he means until he kisses your temple again.

"Si, although start anew is probably a better term." He reaches to take your hand in his before pressing a kiss to the back. "I promise to treat you right this time, as a proper lover, a proper partner.”

Your cheeks tint pink at the gesture and you nod slowly before cautiously asking, “Okay but… will we be exclusive? Cause I don’t think I can if we aren’t. I can’t… I don’t want to be just another one of your playthings.”

“Tesoro, yes of course we’ll be exclusive. You are not just one of my playthings, you are so much more. You are my heart, and I need my heart to live, si?”

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple and guides your hand over his heart, “Amo te e nessun altro.”

Terzo

I love Terzo to bits and this got a little angsty on his side. I hope I didn't make it too OOC but please enjoy!

With Terzo, it's not a surprise that he has no shortage of lovers. Especially favorites, he has many and amongst them is you. It was the first thing he told you before he bedded you for the first time: don't get attached. And honestly? You knew better.

Still didn't keep you from falling helplessly in love with him, though.

For Terzo, it was rare that anyone ever stayed the night; once they came for what they wanted, they would leave. When he was a younger man it was a devastating realization to make, that he would only ever be an object of seduction, only ever be a conquest and never a true lover. Now though, he's worked hard to build those walls around him, numb himself from the knowledge of knowing to never get attached.

"Do not get attached," was not for you, it was never for you-- you'll come to realize. It was for him. A reminder each time he brings another eager sibling-of-sin to bed, a caution each time a fan offered him 'a night he'll never forget'.

The first night you stay, Terzo writes off as a fluke. A blessing, but a fluke nonetheless. You had fully expected him to say no, to ask you to leave as always. Instead, he had looked a little caught off guard, an expression that rarely crossed his features. "Um... stay the night? Si, of course-- of course! Make yourself comfortable, caro, I'll be just a moment. I get towel to wipe us off, si?"

You don't really think much of it when he seems not to know how to lay next to you, unsure where to put his arms to sleep comfortably, and you quite blatantly ask him if he's done this before. Which he immediately lies and says yes, and then deflates when you don't look convinced and mumbles that no, not really. He hasn't done this before.

You're sad for him-- and you make it a mission to give him the best snuggle session of his life.

And honestly? Just one time and Terzo's completely hooked on you. He doesn't get his hopes up (he knows better than that now), but he does quietly tell you that he hopes that the two of you could maybe do this again sometime. You smile and nod, and ask him if he's free tonight and once more there's that surprised look.

It doesn't become a nightly thing, but it almost does. The first time you come to his room before bed, asking him if you could sleep with him that night, his eyes get large and wide. There was no sex that night, just him in your arms as you showed him what spooning was (he was the little spoon of course).

Months later he's hopeful but too anxious to ask you if the two of you were more than just friends with benefits. In the end, it takes jealousy for him to finally do what he's been wanting to do for a long time.

You're in the cafeteria talking with another sibling-of-sin that is obviously trying to chat you up; leaning in close, eyes flickering to your lips and down your body.

Terzo feels his body get hot, his jaw set straight and firm. He knows he's jealous, he can feel the white hot heat that runs through his veins as someone else tries to take what is his. He manages to stay calm enough not to storm over, talking himself down in his head when movement catches his eye.

The sibling flirting with you makes a comment, and points to a smudge of sauce on your cheek. You look confused and they say something, which you wipe your hand over your mouth, but not quite getting the sauce.

Terzo is moving before the sibling even finishes wiping your cheek with their thumb, his hand curling tight around the sibling's wrist and yanking them away from you.

"Keep your hands to yourself, si?" He snarls, "She's mine."

The cafeteria goes silent and the sibling apologizes very quickly, blabbering about how they didn't realize you were taken, by papa no less, and promising to never bother you again. They flee and stiffly Terzo tells all the onlookers to go back to their own business.

As conversation begins to pick up again and his rage boils down, he feels a flash of embarrassment and shame-- turning to you to apologize for so many different things.

Your lips are on him before he can even get words out, kissing him feverishly and without abandon. He whimpers a little, his hands flying up to hold your waist, gasping for air when you finally pull back.

"Mm, perhaps we should take this to the bedroom, si?" He's breathless, looking down at you and you grin, running your fingers against the soft fabric of his robe. You give him his answer to which he nods with hope in his eyes.

"Sounds like a plan-- but I don't share either, okay?"

Copia

Ah. Copia. My scrunkly little rat man. My little meow meow. My itty bitty blorbo.

You had gotten to know him before he was a cardinal. I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers for Copia specifically for some reason so here we are again.

If felt very much that it was the two of you against the world back then. Both of you young adults starting from the bottom trying to climb up to the top for at least some kind of recognition.

There are countless nights spent in his room, squeezed onto that tiny bed of his and lounging around, watching him play his video games. Sitting on the floor and fiddling with guitars and sheet music. Leaning against the door frame as he ran around trying to look for a pair of matching socks (that weren't one of the ridiculously patterned ones you gifted to him for Christmas each year) for a formal event.

Perhaps it was only natural for you two to fall into bed together, helping each other blow off steam. Copia had suggested it; albeit a little shyly and awkwardly. It could help relieve stress, besides it wasn't as if there was anyone at the abby that interested either of you anyways (though that was probably a sign).

And what were you to do? Say no to the man you loved?

So you two became friends with benefits; though the friend part always seemed to come first and foremost. You knew you were important to Copia and that was enough. At least at that time you had thought it would be enough.

When he became cardinal, the two of you got to spend less and less time together. He was often on errands or doing work for Sister Imperator. Still, you would occasionally slip into his room to curl around him for comfort and he would hold you close and murmur how he was happy to see you.

When he became papa, that's when things between the two of you started going downhill. You were proud and happy for him, but you hadn't expected him to change. They weren't huge changes; deep down you knew he would always be the same Copia you've known, but there were changes that you didn't know how to handle.

For Copia, it was the power rush. The idea that people were falling over themselves to sleep with him, to be with him. Though it had always been no strings attached, for the first time you were beginning to experience what it was like to not be the only one in his bed, in his life. For Papa, it was exciting, thrilling. For you, it was lonely, confusing, and heartbreaking.

At least it was a little easier to handle when he was on tour, when you didn't have to physically see him each and every day. But the way your timelines and dashboards would fill to the brim of updates, videos, clips and fans gushing about him and their latest ritual; some days you couldn't even bring yourself to pick up your phone. You didn't want to see footage of the most recent girl he cirice'd, you didn't want to hear the latest raunchy things he's flirted at the audience with.

The two of you still messaged occasionally; though it always felt surface level now. You messaged as often as you could but he rarely would hold any solid conversation. Perhaps he had felt you were too moody when it came to talking about his other flings, when it came to talking about the papa business. Regardless, he didn't reach out often anymore.

At some point, you decided it was perhaps time to move on and began looking into dating seriously. You hadn't really found anyone that interested you, anyone that didn't immediately make you think of how much you wished they were someone else (a certain rat loving dork).

Copia missed you. Every night of tour he would think of you. He would stare at his phone, stare at your messages and think and think and not know what to say. Things had become awkward and tense between the two of you since he became papa; and he knows its because of him. He just couldn't resist the taste of what it felt like being wanted for once (that's a lie and he knows it, he knows you have always wanted him). He was such an idiot, so full of himself, so high off of his newfound fame and achievements that he threw everything else out the door. That he might as well have thrown you out too. So. He had no idea what to say.

"I miss you?" "I wish you were here?" "I'm sorry I slept with other people, it felt like cheating on you even though I said no strings attached?" "I fucked a girl so hard last night she passed out but by satana I wished it was you?"

You were on another first dates of many first dates (that usually stayed first dates) when Copia and his ghouls returned shortly from the European tour. You had done your best to ignore the updates of when he would return; focusing on your date instead.

Just like the rest of the dates you went on, you weren't entirely that interested in this sibling-in-sin that had asked you out. The date wasn't going great in your opinion, but they apparently thought differently because as you were half heartedly trying to respond to some comment they made, they pulled you in for a kiss.

For a second, you didn't move out of shock and by the time your brain had caught up to what was happening, someone else was yanking the sibling off you, tossing them to the ground unceremoniously.

Copia looks furious. Despite being dressed in his casual sweats like he usually does on days off, he's intimidating with the low growl he throws in the direction of the sibling.

He takes a seat in the recently vacated spot next to you, leaning in to snake his arms around you, pulling you into his lap and against your chest.

"W-We're on a date, what the fuck?" The sibling has the balls to stand up to the papa, who gives him a cold glare.

"Chi se ne frega, not anymore you're not," His voice is rougher than you remember, and you shiver a little in his arms. He doesn't seem to take note, too preoccupied in staring down his competition. "Get lost."

You don't really hear what the sibling has to say in response, nor do you really pay attention to where they stomp off to. The only thing you're keenly aware of is the way your back is pressed flush against Copia's chest. You can feel not only your heart pounding, but his too. As soon as the sibling is out of sight, he relaxes against you, his arms loosening a little but still firm.

You're confused to say the least-- unsure what just happened, unsure why he's holding you like he never wants to let go. You feel him gently brush his lips against your temple before murmuring to you.

"Mi dispiace, amore mio. I was a fool, a complete coglione. Please forgive me."

Your heart flutters in your chest, hope unfurling its wings like a butterfly. "C-Copia."

"Amo te e solo te. Prometto." He turns you in his arms and you go willingly. He leans so that your foreheads touch, his eyes meeting yours.

"No one else?" You whisper. He nods a little, forgetting for a moment that your foreheads are connected, bumping into you a little and causing you to giggle. The sound of your joy seems to drain any tension left in him and he whispers back, breathlessly.

"No one else, tesoro. Just you."