#s: peanut butter & tears

[sehnis]

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[sugugasm]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

“holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[satorusugurugurl]

heyy!! how ru? soooo, i was thinking about jjk men found out that reader has problems with food, if you are okay with it, could you write it? if you r not its okay! you are a great writer and i love reading your stuff!! kisses!

JJK Men: When You Have an Issue With Food

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 3,907

Warning: Themes of eating disorders, issues with food, negative body image, suggestiveness, fluff in the end

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! As someone who has struggled with issues regarding an eating disorder, this took me a bit of time to figure out, but I feel proud of it. Please seek out resources if you struggle as well! There are so many helpful resources that have helped me!

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru loved sweets. He developed his love in high school when stimulating his brain, which led to him developing a sweet tooth, so you could always count on him to bring home all sorts of sweets, which was nice. You enjoyed it until someone at work mentioned that it looked like you gained weight. You brushed it off at first, but it struck a nerve when she said you might lose your boyfriend if you continued eating the sweets. Did you put on a few pounds since you started dating Gojo? Was it all the sweets you had been enjoying with him?

The comment had you poking at your stomach in the mirror with a pout. That woman blatantly announcing their view in front of your coworkers was rude. It was embarrassing and had you questioning if Satoru had noticed if you gained weight. You need to stop indulging in sweets, or more people might start making comments about your weight. Or the worst-case scenario was that Satoru would leave you.

That same day, you went straight to the gym when you got home. You heard footsteps rushing to the door when you returned to your apartment. Satoru nearly tackled you as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly as you headed for the kitchen.

“Hi, Toru!” You giggled as Satoru shuffled with you into the kitchen, not once letting you go. “How did the mission go?”

“It was boring! I wish I could’ve brought you with me!” White strands of hair fly as he yanked his head away from your face. “But I brought you home some souvenirs.” He handed you a pink bag with a cute cat label. “Macaroons from France! This shop is known for its take on different flavors. Peanut butter and jelly blueberry and cinnamon roll. I bought one of every flavor for us to try.” His smile was wide and warm, leaving you feeling sick.

“Oh, thanks.” You placed the bag onto the counter with an evident frown. One Satoru saw your unenthusiastic reaction, and it made him pout.

“What’s wrong? You love macaroons.”

“I do. I just—” Nausea twisted in your stomach. “I can’t eat them anymore.”

The combination of ‘I do’ and ‘I can’t’ had Satoru reeling in stunned silence. “What do you mean you can't? Did you develop a macaroon allergy while I was gone?”

“No, I can’t keep eating sweets, Toru.”

Satoru could tell something had happened while he was gone. Usually, you jumped at the chance to try an exotic sweet he’d bring home. For you to be so dismissive wasn’t like you at all. He’d only been gone for a week, and suddenly, you had an aversion to sweets.

His fingers gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The second his eyes meet yours, he can feel your anguish. Tears glimmer in your eyes as a little hiccups sound in your chest. Seeing you in such a state had your boyfriend searching you for injuries only to realize it wasn’t on the surface but deeper.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and concern in his voice make you cry harder. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Satoru pulls you to the couch, sitting you directly on his lap.

“M-My c-co—“ si s wreck through you as you try to speak, “my coworker—”

“Your coworker what? Who do I need to Hollow Purple?”

Satoru runs his hands gently up and down your back, which is soothing. “They were asking if I gained wei—weight. A-And they said that I would lose you if I gained more.” His hands stopped moving, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m sorry. What the fuck did you just say?”

You spilled your guts out, telling him everything from what they said to you to going to the gym. Never once amid your rant did he interrupt you. He just held you, pressing kisses against your tear-stained cheeks until you shuddered with a sigh once you were done.

“Baby, my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Fuck them. Fuck those assholes; God, I hate people so much.” His hands grab your hips, making you straddle him to stare into his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. If you want different souvenirs, I’ll bring you something different. If you want me to bring you back, I will.” His hands gently stroke at your tear-stained cheeks. “But don’t let a bunch of assholes dictate what you can and can’t eat.”

Sincere cease the stream tears. “You think I’m perfect?” A smile graces your face, causing Satoru’s heart to flutter.

“Yes! I love you, whether you indulge in sweets or focus on going to the gym. Regardless of your choice, I’ll support you, whether I bring you home more treats or join you at the gym; say the word, and I’ll support you no matter what.”

You gently pressed your lips against him. To which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight as you messily made out like horn-crazed teenagers. You happily munched on the macaroons Satoru brought home the next day at work when your phone rang. The woman who had commented on your weight, Tadashi, appears on the caller ID, making you roll your eyes

“Yes?” You asked, licking the crumbs off your lips.

“You have a delivery here in the front.”

You rush to the lobby and pass other assistant supervisors into the waiting room. The delivery man is hidden behind the arrangement of your favorite flowers. You melted as you stepped forward, the floral scent drawing you in.

“Hi, those are for me.” You helped your hands out to the vase.

“Yes, they are!” The flowers lowered, and your grind blindfold creased as he stared down at you.

“Toru?!”

“Just had to remind you how perfect and loved you are!” he placed the flowers down before rubbing his arms around you. “I also want hollow purple the assholes who hurt you.”

“No, Toru, please don’t do that.”

While murder was out of the question, Satoru decided on a different approach to let your coworkers know how much you were loved. He wrapped his arms around you before dipping you in front of all of your shitty coworkers just before kissing you. He made such a scene making out with you and grabbing your ass that you were left a blushing mess. He finally managed to pull away; he flipped off the woman who had made such terrible comments to you.

“Hope this proves that I’m never going anywhere.” he slaps your ass again, drawing a squeak from you. “She’s mine forever and always, no matter what!”

Nanami Kento:

Ever since high school, you have had a food issue. When you were a child, your grandparents often commented about you cleaning off your plate or having seconds. They would frequently call you chubby or warn you that man would like a woman who finished her meals before him.

Because of their comments, you never ate as much as you would like. Purposely leave as much food on your plate as possible without starving yourself. While the habit was unhealthy, it pleased your grandparents to the point they finally got off your back about your plate and weight. After their deaths, the harmful habit caused by their poisonous words scarred you your whole life.

No matter how hungry you were, you never finished your plate. A handful of the entire plate was eaten at every meal you ate. If you were still hungry, water helped with the lingering traces of hunger. Because of your seemingly peckish behavior, you were called a bird throughout high school and even into adulthood. You didn’t see it in a bad way. You were eating the way you did, which never bothered you. You were happy and content with your choices until you started dating Nanami Kento.

When he first asked you out, you thought the good-looking man was pulling a joke on you. Much to your relief, he was serious. He wanted to take you out for dinner and drinks, which you excitedly agreed to. Nanami took you to the best restaurants in town, and it was. You moaned as you ate until you had to force yourself to stop, as you were dangerously getting close to finishing your plate for the first time in years.

Your grandparents' words haunted you as you reluctantly put your spoon down. That was the first time he picked up on your issue. The way you assured him that you were full when your eyes still lingered on your food or how you moaned when you took a bite of the sweet dessert, going in for another spoonful only to freeze and drop your spoon.

Something didn’t seem right, but Nanami wouldn’t pry on the first date. Perhaps you weren’t that hungry, or you were nervous around him. There was no point in bringing it up right now. He wasn’t even sure if he’d get a second date.

But he got that second date and the third, and soon, he became your loving, doting boyfriend

A boyfriend who noticed you not cleaning your plate off wasn’t just a one-time occurrence but a habit of yours. No matter the meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you never finished your plate. Even when you complained about how starving you were, you never ate until you were full.

You never looked satisfied whenever you ate; one would even say that you looked disappointed whenever your plate was taken away at restaurants. Or when you close the lid on your unfinished bento box. You wanted to eat, but something was preventing you from pushing past the limit you made for yourself

Nanami didn’t want to pry or embarrass you by bringing it up, but he could no longer hold his tongue after the two of you had gone to dinner. You stopped eating, and while he finished his meal, you chugged down an entire glass of water. Clearly, you were still hungry but not wanting to eat.

He decided he needed to bring up the manner in the comfort of his home, away from watchful eyes. So Nanami invited you to his condo for a homemade dinner featuring your favorite meal.

It was so good. The flavors were perfect, mouthwatering, and nearly orgasmic. You moaned eagerly, shoving more food into your mouth, losing yourself in the delicious meal made by loving hands; Nanami watched you while sipping on his wine, watching you eat until you stopped eating like always. The disappointment was evident on your face as you reluctantly put your fork down.

Now was the time to act.

“Darling, is the food not to your liking?” A sense of dread burned in your stomach as you looked up from your half-full plate at your boyfriend

“No, it was good! I’ve never tasted something so tasty.”

Nanami placed his wine glass down, licking his bottom lip. “ Are you just not hungry?” You shook your head, cheeks burning. “Then why don’t you eat more Love? You clearly want to.”

“But I don’t wanna lose you—”

Not expecting that to be your answer, Kento pulled his chair to your side, sat down, and gently grabbed your hands. You flushed as he brought them towards his mouth, pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles. Your boyfriend looked so distraught over your answer as if it had wounded him to the soul.

“Why do you think that? Have I made you feel if you were to finish your food, that would result in me leaving you? If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry.”

“Ken, no, no, wait a second.” Your fingers squeezed around his hand. “You didn’t do anything remotely close to making me feel that way.”

“Then why do you think you’d lose me if you were to finish a meal in front of me?”

Swallowing at the lump of dread in your throat, you sighed. “Well, it’s something my grandparents always used to say.” You told him everything about their crude remarks and terrible advice. You also confessed that despite their passing, their words still haunted you, making it hard for you to finish meals.

“That has to be the most asinine bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Kento snapped, irritation carved into his features. “People are so cold and cruel. They don’t understand that words can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.”

“Kento—”

“I can assure you that I would rather you finish your plate than starve yourself. Food is one of the many joys in life that is better shared and company.” He closed the small distance between you. “If you finish your plate, I won’t be disgusted or turned off. I promise you it’s the opposite; seeing you happy and enjoying yourself makes me happy.”

“It does?”

“You always look so happy when you eat something you like.” Nanami picked up your fork and is holding it out for you. “So please don’t let the cruel words of terrible people dictate how you live your life. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, so please eat as much as you’d like.”

Hearing those words from him, the man who stole your heart, made your soul soar. Confirming that your grandparents were terrible people and that he wouldn’t leave you left you feeling overjoyed. Like you had been set free. It was like Kento had taken bolt cutters to the chains wrapped around you for years. That rush of relief had you eating more food off your plate with a happy hum.

You ate all the food off your plate for the first time in years. Nanami grinned as he gently stroked your head, elated to you, so happy and satisfied. Seeing you in such a euphoric state delighted him; words could not describe it. Nanami Kento was falling hard for you, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Big bro!” Sukuna Thomas is a slice of toast on Yuuji’s plate. “Bro!” The smaller boy pouts at his brother, who ultimately ignores him, tossing a butter knife into the sink. “Brother!”

“What?!” Sukuna snaps, running a hand down. His little brother is unfazed by his tone, happily munching away on the toast he had prepared for him.

“Big sis forgot her lunch again!” Yuuji always referred to you as his big sister, even though you were dating his older brother. Sukuna made a mental note to discuss calling you by either your last name or first name, whatever you preferred, when you got home from work.

“No, I handed it to her,” Sukuna is about to call Yuuji a brat for lying when he spots your Bento box wrapped in a cherry blossom cloth on the entrance table by the front door. He swears you’d lose your head if it weren't attached to your body. This was the third time you had forgotten your lunch this week. “Dumb little brat.” he snatches it off the entrance table to put it back in the fridge for you. “She’d if it wasn’t for delivery services and convenience stores. Always forgetting her shit.”

“She didn’t forget it.” Yuuji’s addition has his brother shutting the door to the fridge to box still in hand.

“The hell you mean she didn’t forget it?”

The smell of sterilized wipes makes your empty stomach twist. Maybe the fasting and the protein shake in the morning weren't cutting it anymore. This meant you would have to eat a bit more, which was something you didn’t want to do. Not when your beach trip with Sukuna and the boys was around the corner.

“Hey.” One of your coworkers tapped her knuckles on the door of the exam room you were cleaning. “Once you’re done here, you can take your lunch if you want.”

“Lunch?” You laugh, pulling your gloves off and tossing them in the trashcan. “If you count a protein shake as lunch, I’ll take it.”

“Oh,” your coworker covered her mouth, “ I think I just ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What the hell was she talking about? “Your boyfriend is in the lobby with your lunch.”

Oh fuck.

Without another word, you rushed through the office, heading to the lobby. Sukuna stood by the front desk with a scowl over his tattooed face. He was pissed, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to face him, but the plot to hide vanished the second his crimson eyes shot in your direction.

A chill ran down your spine as the sheer coldness in his gaze had you frozen in your spot until he motioned for you to come over with his index and middle finger. You approached him, smoothing out your scrubs, avoiding eye contact at all costs, which lasted for a second before Sukuna could use his fingers to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Let’s take a walk.” The sharpness of his tone left no room for discussion

“Okay.”

He at least waited until he was outside to turn and glare down at you. You would have to thank him for that. “Care to explain how you forgot your lunch?” His jaw is clenched, and the veins are popping out of his neck as he attempts to hold back his anger.

“I uh—”

“And before you even think about telling me ‘you forgot’ for the third time this week, long and hard about how you wanna answer my question.”

“I left it behind.”

Sukuna nodded with a scoff. “So does this mean you haven’t forgotten your lunch all week, or have you purposely left it behind?” You give him a guilt-ridden nod. “Why?” His being short and questioning your motives was exactly how you imagined his reaction if he found out what you were doing.

“Because of my diet.”

“Diet, the fuck you mean your diet?”

Your cheeks burn as he repeats the word diet ten more times as if repeating it will help him understand your reasoning. Sukuna listens to you sigh in defeat before sitting on the fountain's edge in front of the medical complex where you work. His frustration blinded him so much that he didn’t notice how you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth or how your leg bounced anxiously.

He sat down, putting your bento box off to the side. “Why are you skipping meals on this ‘diet’?” The bastard was using air quotes now.

“My coworker showed it to me. Two meals with protein shakes and eat only one big meal or day I could tone up.”

“So you’re basically ‘starving’ yourself to tone up?”

“Can you stop using air quotes?”

“I will once you tell me why you’re skipping meals for the shitty diet you don’t even need to be on. If you want to focus on your health and getting toned up, do it. I’ll go to the gym and show you how to use the machines. I’ll even spot you. But so that you know, I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re obligated to say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Your attitude in your tone has said boyfriend glaring daggers. “You’re muscular and buff, and I’m—“ you pout, “ I’m just me.”

“Yeah, and I want you, all of you.” He’s getting fed up with the piss-poor attitude you have going on. “What’s with the self-hate.”

Sukuna was expecting more attitude or possibly the silent treatment, but you didn’t; instead, it was quiet as your delicate fingers rubbed against your pants. “I-I bought a new swimsuit for the trip to the beach and—” your boyfriend perked up, interest peaked. “And it’s a little snug in some places.”

“Snug?”

“Yeah.” When you first got the swimsuit, you saw nothing wrong with it, but a friend of yours pointed out that your bottoms were a bit snug in the ass region—seeing that your beach trip was two weeks away, your coworker recommended the not-so-awesome diet you were on since you wanted to tone up; because if your friend thought it was snug. You could only imagine what your boyfriend would think. “I just wanna look good for you.”

“Oi.”

“Ye-mph!” Just as you turned to look at him, he shoved the tip of a rice ball into your mouth.

“I need to see you in those bottoms.” There was a certain cuteness with how he puffed his cheeks out as you eagerly chewed on the rice ball. Once you finish swallowing, you grab it by the end and pull it out, holding the remainder of it in your hand

“You want to see?”

“Of course, why the fuck would you listen to some nobody? Let me see them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

That was the last thing you wanted, but you knew he wouldn’t let this go until you did. Taking another bite of the delicious rice ball, you sighed in defeat. “I’ll show you, Sukuna,” He flicked his finger against your forehead. “What was that for?!” He shoved the second rice ball into your mouth, silencing you.

“For being a dumbass, eat your lunch and bring those bottoms back to my apartment.” He pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I gotta get back to work, but don’t forget I love you the way you are. Please don’t starve yourself because you assume I wouldn’t like something on you.”

You ate all your lunch while dreading the mere thought of him seeing you in the bottoms, which your friend had deemed too tight. The anxiety of what was to come had your day flying by, and before you knew it, you were peeking your head out of the bathroom of Sukuna’s apartment. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, watching you closely.

“Promise you’ll be honest. I’m dead serious, Kuna.”

“Promise.” When you stepped out of the bathroom, Sukuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tight red bottoms you wore. They were snug and all the right ways. They were hugging your hips and the curve of your ass perfectly. The color complimented your skin tone. You were so fucking perfect. Your friend must have told you that your bottoms look too snug because they were jealous of you.

Sukuna stood up, crowding you against the wall, inhaling sharply as you hit the cool wall. Your tattooed boyfriend sunk to his knees, his lips and teeth nipping at your thighs up to the curve of your hips. The warmth of his mouth, how you gasped, your hands gripping the pink tufts of hair.

“Kuna.”

“Throw those fucking shakes away, babe. These are perfect.” His voice was muffled as he nipped harder at your skin.

“You don’t think they’re too snug?”

“No, they're perfect.” He whispered, drawing closer and closer to your core. “Now, let's have our own little experiment. I wanna see how well they do—” crimson eyes meet your panting flushed face, “when they’re wet.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[futfemfantasies]

Her name // Alessia Russo ~ Lionesses!reader

Italics = flashbacks

TW: spain not winning the wc, disgusting pregnancy cravings, pure Lessi girl fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But baby can’t you just tell me what it starts with?” Alessia whined as she laid her head in your lap, kissing your heavily pregnant bump in the process. 

“You said it was my choice since you got the last name. You’ll know in three weeks. Now, your daughter wants a pickle and peanut butter sandwich. Can you make her one?”

“You and your weird cravings mia ragazza (my girl)” She mumbles into your bump before getting up, kissing you on the way out. While Alessia makes your daughter her weird sandwich, your mind drifts off to how you got to this position. 

You transferred from Barcelona at 25, wanting to have a little bit more of a challenge in your league career. Alessia joined two years prior to your arrival and was smitten from the moment she met you. Kyra, Lotte and Emily gave her so much shit for not acting on her feelings. It wasn’t until an impressive half a season that you went to your second Lionesses camp, which is surprisingly the World Cup. 

Sitting alone on a little secluded beach next to the hotel got you thinking about many things. A few of your teammates were playing beach football and you watched, even though they attempted many times to play. You snuggle into your hoodie more as the sun sets and cold temperature appears for the night. A crunch of a branch makes you turn to see the blue eyed, blonde haired beauty you’ve grown to love. Alessia sits next to you in the little cave and drapes the blanket over the both of you, making her close to you. 

“I saw you out here in just your hoodie and shorts so I thought you could use this”

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you Lessi”

You two talk for hours and hours, you missed the texts and calls from your teammates. It wasn’t until you see flashlights that you know it’s late. You both get up and walk with Rachel and Millie back to the hotel. 

A few weeks later is the final of the world cup and you and Alessia are starting up front. The Spanish are putting up a good fight after scoring in the 29th minute, courtesy of Olga. Hemp scores early in the second half, levelling the score. England have a corner in what could be the last play of the game and you and Alessia are standing next to each other.

“You have this, go for it”

The hand is raised. Focus is on the ball. You can see it’s headed straight for you so you time your jump perfectly and head the ball towards the goal. You couldn’t believe it. You might have won the world cup for your country. The familiar swoosh of the net was heard and you ran to the corner post doing a salsa dance celebration before the team dogpile you. The ref blows her whistle to restart and tears are forming in your eyes as you look at the screen that shows 95:00. There was only six minutes of added time. England hold off the Spanish for another minute and then the final whistle is blown.

You are a world champion.

You won it for your country. 

Falling to the ground, you start crying until you feel arms around your shoulders.

“You’ve done well Y/N. Go celebrate with your friends” Sarina pulls you up and into a hug before you run off to the one person you want to celebrate with. 

You see Alessia in the distance hugging it out with Ella and on your way over, you are stopped by multiple Barcelona and English players congratulating you. Alessia catches your eye and runs over to you, hugging you tightly. 

“We did it!” You say with all the adrenaline running through your veins. 

“I could kiss you right now”

“I dare you”

Alessia smashes her lips on yours and you don’t regret it one bit. 

“Best day ever”

“Baby, princess, anyone home?” Alessia asks as she taps your temple gently with her pointer finger.

“Sorry, thanks my love” You give her a soft kiss as she sits next to you and pulls you in between her legs. 

“What were you thinking about?”

“The world cup final” Alessia smiles at that memory, one of her favourites.

Three and a half weeks later at 2:30 in the morning, you went into labour. You immediately started to freak out but Alessia calmed you down with some breathing exercises and words of encouragement. A short 14 hours later, your baby girl came out screaming her little lungs away. Alessia cuts the cord and the nurses asks her if she wants to hold her. Alessia whispers that she wants you to hold her first. The nurse takes her over to you and you move the gown for skin to skin contact. 

You hold your little girl and you fall in love immediately. Alessia falls in love with you all over again and shares that love to your little girl you are yet to name. You move over and gesture Alessia to sit next to you. She puts her arm behind you and runs her finger ever so gently down your princess’ small cheek.

“Hi my little Aria. I love you so much and so does your Mama. You have so many aunties that love you and two crazy but sweet uncles that can’t wait to play with you” You look at Alessia and she’s crying at the sound of her name.   

“Aria Mia Russo, meet your mama” 

You place Aria in Alessia’s arms and you lean on her upper arm. For what feels like hours, you are just staring at your bundle of joy. You give Aria a quick feed before Alessia puts her in the cot and cuddles up to you. 

“What do you think of her name?” You say tiredly.

“I think it’s beautiful, just like her mummy”

You give Alessia a kiss before the both of you get a quick nap in before the family comes to visit Aria.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by alessia, ellatoone, leahwilliamson, stephcatley and 56,396 others...

ynyln: Aria Mia Russo you are our whole world 🥺❤️

view all 10,430 comments:

alessia: i love you both so much ❤️ ynyln: we love you too!

ellatoone: no way my best friends are mums 😭 alessia: you've literally know about this for 9 and a half months ...

alexiaputellas: La tía Ale necesita venir a visitarnos pronto. (Aunt Ale needs to come visit soon) ynyln: si, Aria necesita conocer a su tía española favorita 😉 (yes, Aria needs to meet her favourite Spanish aunt) albapts: hey!! 🥺😕🥲

[the-kr8tor]

Hiii! I just wanted to request a Baby's breath and ⭐/❣️ for Simon Ghost Riley for the apothecary. Ghost and the reader could be going on a family trip with their baby to the zoo or aquarium. I'd like to kind of see him stuggle with his past, and wonder why his father couldn't enjoy his time with his kids like he does. I'd also like to see him go to the reader for comfort too.

A Simon req!! Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem! reader

Word count: 1.3 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Simon, mom! Reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, cw abuse mention, cw panic attack.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Perks of wearing a mask at work means that no one recognises you once you're out of it. Another pro, is that no one will bother you at the yearly family day that Price shamelessly told his lieutenant that it's mandatory for the entire 141 to join. Even though Simon knows it technically isn't, he still decided to bring you and his little ones to the zoo just because, A. The entrance is free, and B. He gets to spend time with you, little Tommy and baby Ellie, which is rare these days. A win/win for Simon, as long as nobody recognises him and decides to chat him up while his kids are clinging onto him like peanut butter on bread.

The entire zoo's speakers are blaring with random animal noises that irks Simon. Cows mooing, monkeys screeching, dolphin noises and snakes hissing; he has no idea why a zoo would even play animal noises when the animals themselves are particularly screaming in his ears. The sun is blasting on him, making the back of his neck sweat, and his kids irritable. Baby Ellie gurgles on her stroller, shielded by the folding canopy (and her towering dad) with a portable fan clipped on the handle. She's comfortable and happy enough just staring at the colourful parrots flying around. While Tommy is clutched behind his leg, afraid of the pointed beaks, and sharp claws. He jumps when a bird suddenly flaps its wings too close to him. Even with all the sounds and his kid grappled around him, he truly enjoys their company. He smiles down at Tommy, fingers brushing along the boy's soft curls.

His mind wanders back to his childhood, that his own father never showed the same enjoyment when he's out with his family, enjoying his time more with a bottle of amber liquid in between his crooked fingers instead of spending time with them without a metal hanger in his hand.

Simon pats Tommy atop his head, cowering and hiding his face on Simon's denim. “'s alright, just a bird.”

“I know dad, but they're so scary when they fly. I want mum.” He mumbles back, Simon can feel the tears coming as his son's fingers dig into the denim of his pants.

“Mum’s comin’,” he hears sniffles, and he thinks he's not doing a good job at this. “She's gettin' your drink remember?”

Tommy looks up, big brown eyes filled with tears. “I don't like the birds, dad.”

“Okay, let's move along then. Want to look at the giraffes again?”

Tommy sniffles again, pouting but nodding a quick yes. “Carry?”

Simon sighs with a brief smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, surrendering to the whims of his five year old. “Right, arms up, Tommy.” With one swift move, his son is wrapped around his arm while his free hand pushes the stroller away from the bird enclosure. Wheels squeak, and Ellie is out of the trance signaled by her piercing shriek. “Damnit,” Simon whispers, going around the stroller, he takes his crying daughter in his other arm like a professional. “You're okay, El, what's wrong?” Ellie continues to cry, mouth wobbling, eyes that are similar to yours look at him through tears with her fists wrapped around her dad's shirt.

“Dad, the birds!” Tommy hides behind the crook of his dad's neck, crying in tandem with his sister when he realizes that they haven't gone that far from the scary birds.

“Tommy, they're just birds.” His son wails from his accidental cold words, and in turn, making Ellie sob louder. People stare at him, stopping to give him the stink eye, some even stop to stare at where the ruckus is coming from. It's like he can hear their thoughts, ‘look at that dad who can't handle his own kids.’ or ‘What is that big brute doing to his kids?’ He doesn't care what they think of him, but he doesn't want them to think that they're crying because he hurt them. He'd never do that, he'd never be like him.

All the noises, the heat, the pointed stares, and how Simon's heart pounds at every cry of his children, children that he can't even calm down without your help. It all makes his breathing stagger, muscles tightening, and his palms clammy and tingling. Symptoms that he's awfully too familiar with.

He thinks after having two children he'd be good at this, not great or even amazing, just okay, average at raising his kids so they'd grow up normally and well adjusted. Is he even built for this? Is he capable of loving without leaving teeth marks? Without turning out like his father? Or is he ruining everything?

“Lieutenant, is that you?” A sudden voice calls out, a head of dark hair and bushy beard pops out from his peripheral. Great, someone that recognises him without the mask. Just what he needs.

“No.” Simon answers gruffly above the cries while he uselessly bounce his wailing kids in his arms.

“Nah, I know that's you! I can never forget those terrifying eyes of yours.” The sergeant bounds up to him, he remembers him from the last three missions the man was a part of. Simon regrets lending him his lighter once, now that he's all friendly to him. “That your kids? They're adorable.”

“Sergeant.” No, I stole them, Simon wanted to quip back. The man clearly cannot read the room while his babies are bawling their eyes out. He suddenly wants to punch something. Or just walk away, huffing and puffing. “A bit busy here—”

“They look a lot like you! I never thought you had a face under that skull mask.” If looks could kill, Simon has committed murder in the middle of the zoo. In front of the bird enclosure for that matter. “‘The Ghost’ being a dad,” the sergeant shakes his head in bewilderment. “Sounds weird,” he backtracks quickly, “a g-good kind of weird though.”

Simon's seething, his blood rushing in his ears as everything overwhelms him. From how Tommy's overalls scratches on his side, from how the sweat flows down on his back, snaking along his spine. And the noise, people chatting endlessly, birds squawking, the fucking speakers blaring— he swallows thickly, jaw tightening, eyes darting along the crowd, alert, and pupils blown out. Then, a hand reaches out to his bicep, warm, soft and comfortably familiar over his searing skin. His heartbeat slows down at the mere sight of you.

“Hi,” you smile, eyes roaming around his ‘deer in the headlights’ look. Squeezing once, twice and thrice for good measure, you quickly place the plastic bag full of cold drinks on the stroller. Without missing a beat, you take Tommy in your arms, easing his cries almost immediately. “You must be sergeant Willems, it's nice to meet you but can we take a raincheck on the pleasantries? A bit busy here.” Smiling sweetly, Simon's subordinate nods, giving you and Simon a curt nod and then scampering away.

Simon gazes upon you with softness in his brown eyes, saccharine affection as he slides next to you closer. Hip to hip, he tries hard not to melt into you. Even if you glance at him with the same tenderness.

“Mummy,” Ellie murmurs, tear stained cheeks greeting you. You pat her back as she lays her head down on her father's chest. Lips still frowning, and nose scrunched, she looks like Simon during Tommy's birth. Her cries subsides, a tiny fist wrapped around your finger.

“I'm here, baby.” You coo, fixing your hold on Tommy while you flick your eyes towards Simon, meeting with his own. “I'm right here, Si.” You seem to always know what's going on inside his head, knuckles brushing along his cheek, you wipe away a bead of sweat. He wants to lean into your touch, if not for the numerous eyes roaming around.

He inhales shakily, a restart button for his breathing. Muscles relaxing, forehead pressed on your own briefly and palm spread across the small of your back, he lets his ugly emotions fly away with the wind as you chastely peck his jaw.

“You're good, Simon.”

[daisies-daydreams]

Hey, how are you doing?! btw I like your work and If you don't mind can you please write were 141 + könig is defending they're kids while ur scolding at them 👉👈 🥺💞 can you write plz

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: Hello! I'm doing fine and dandy today, thank you! And thank you for your request! Honestly, I can see all of the 141 and König being such good papa's. 🥰 I hope you enjoy!

D/N = Daughter's Name, S/N = Son's Name

Simon “Ghost” Riley

“What were you thinking?” you scowled. Simon stood next to you as he shifted his attention back and forth between you and your daughter. (D/N) pouted as she stared at her feet. The walls of your hallway were covered in crayon markings, from unicorns to dinosaurs. You had just put a fresh coat of paint on them a few days ago, too.

“I-I’m sorry,” she sniffled. Your brows furrowed as your face turned beet red.

“Still, you shouldn’t have drawn all over the walls. Mommy worked hard to make it look better and you just messed it up,” you spat. Your daughter suddenly burst into tears. You blinked, regretting instantly flooding your chest. Simon knelt down on one knee just as you opened your mouth.

“(D/N), why did you color on the walls, baby?” he asked while staying at eye level with your little one. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed.

“I-I wanted to make it look pretty l-like Mommy was doing,” she hiccupped as she pointed at the messy mural on the wall. Simon turned to you, raising a brow. You sighed as you dropped to your knees as well. Your husband patted your back, then squeezed your shoulder with one of his rough hands.

“See? She didn’t mean any harm, love,” he said. (D/N) nodded, tears and snot streaking down her face as she gasped in between her sobs.

“I’m sorry I got mad, (D/N). Will you please forgive Mommy?” you asked. She nodded before she came up to hug both of you.

The three of you spent the evening cleaning up the drawings, though you made sure to spend some time coloring with her on actual paper afterwards.

König

Your son’s shoulders were slumped as he held his hands behind his back. You thrummed your fingers against your forearms and you crossed your arms. Shattered glass lay on the hardwood floor, a gaping hole in your living room window. A baseball rested near the opposite wall.

“I-It was an accident,” he stammered. Your nostrils flared as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“You need to be more careful, (S/N). What if that ball hit someone?!” you scoffed. The boy’s eyes were misty as he swallowed a lump in his throat. Your husband suddenly stepped through the back door, a baseball mitt in his hand. He clapped a hand over your son’s shoulder.

“Please, don’t be upset with him, Maus. I was the one who missed catching the ball,” he claimed. Your eyes shifted back and forth between your two boys. You sighed and shook your head, your facial features relaxing.

“Alright-but you’re going to have to clean up your mess while I call about replacing the window,” you said. König nodded. Your son looked up at his father before running to grab the broom and dustpan from the linen closet. You tilted your head as (S/N) gazed up at you.

“It was our game-so we should both clean it up,” your boy said with a firm nod. You and König exchanged small smiles as he grabbed your husband’s free hand and bounded off to clean up.

John Price

Your jaw felt sore from how long you had it dropped. Your son giggled as he did a little dance in place, his entire body covered head to toe in peanut butter.

The same peanut butter you just bought from the store.

Your jaw clicked as you looked at the empty tub at his feet. You took a deep breath.

“(S/N)…What. Did. You. Do?” you asked through gritted teeth. His smile faltered at your sour tone.

“I gave myself a peanut butter bath!” he beamed. “Now you don’t have to clean me up later, Momma!” he giggled as he raised his arms. Your entire body radiated with frustration.

“No, now I have to give you a longer bath because you got yourself all dirty!” your voice suddenly raised several decibels. (S/N) winced.

“What’s all this, then?” your husband, John, asked from behind you. You whipped your head around, tongue twisted too much to even explain what happened. Your son bounced up and down when he saw his father.

“Look, Papa! I gave myself a bath!” the boy giggled. John blinked before bursting into laughter, tears of amusement pricking at the corners of his eyes as he grabbed his stomach. Your anger quickly dissipated as you reflected your husband’s expression, letting out a small chuckle of your own. John wiped at his eye as he stepped forward, scanning your son up and down.

“Your a cheeky lad, you know that?” he mused. Your son laughed as John picked him up and spun him around, not minding the substance that clung to his clean clothes. His sea-green eyes lingered over to you.

“He didn’t mean anything wrong by it, hun,” he shrugged. Your son nodded before licking at the corners of his peanut-butter covered mouth. You laughed.

“You’re right-I’m sorry, (S/N),” you apologized as you came up and kissed his temple. He giggled and swatted at you playfully.

“Momma! That tickles!” he squealed. John chuckled as your son hid his face in his father's shoulder. “C’mon, (S/N)-let’s give you a proper bath,” John said.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

“FUCK!” your daughter’s small voice screamed. Your eyes widened as you snapped your head up. She still wore a cheeky grin as she spilled a few more grapes on the floor before repeatedly shouting the explicative at the top of her lungs. Your brows furrowed.

“(D/N)! No ma’am!” you frowned as you shook a finger at her. The young girl’s smile fell as you proceeded to chew her out. “We don’t use those bad words!” you barked. Her bottom lip trembled as she hid herself under the table.

“It’s not her fault,” your husband said from the adjacent hallway. You turned to him as he walked towards the table. He knocked on the surface a few times. Your daughter replied after a few seconds of silence with her own rhythmic knocks. Johnny smiled as he crouched down and guided her back to her seat. He kissed the top of her head before looking at you. You raised a brow, expecting an explanation.

“(D/N) may or may not’ve heard a certain word from a certain someone…that someone being her daddy,” his cheeks turned slightly red as he rubbed the back of his neck. You frowned.

“You son of a-”

“Careful. Don’t want her learnin’ any more words,” Johnny said with a raised brow and a smirk. You instantly closed your mouth. Your daughter stared at you sweetly, her head slightly tilted.

“Right,” you muttered. You turned back to your daughter. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, (D/N). You’re not a bad girl-we just can’t say bad words like that because it can hurt other people’s feelings. Okay?” you said. She nodded, her face lighting up slightly.

“Okay, Mommy,” (D/N) smiled. She paused for a moment as she hummed to herself, deep in thought. “Can I say ‘ass’?” she asked innocently. Johnny hid a smirk behind his hand as he stifled a laugh.

You're going to kill him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

(S/N) swung his feet as you strapped him into the booster seat. Your husband cocked his head as you slammed your door shut, your nostrils flaring.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked. You raked your hands over your face as you glared back at your son. He bobbed his head along to the sound of the song playing on the car radio.

All of you were on a family day out when you remembered you had to grab a few things from the store. Your son wanted to come into the store while Kyle had to take a sudden phone call from Price. Your son pointed at the cashier and asked “Momma-why is that lady so fat?”. You couldn’t erase the shocked look on the woman’s face even if you could try.

You apologized profusely as you took your receipt and quickly hurried out of the store, your son complaining that you were holding his hand too tightly. You frowned as you stared at the young boy.

“Nothing. Let’s just go,” you waved as you rubbed your temples. You didn’t have the capacity to have a talk with your son at the moment. You’ll wait until you get home. Kyle shrugged as he put the car in reverse. The ride back home was rather quiet, minus the songs playing and your son singing along. Your husband pulled up to a stoplight, slipping his hand into yours.

“Why was that lady so fat?” your son asked. You slapped your other hand on your leg as you spun your head around.

“(S/N), we don’t say things like that, ever!” you shouted. Your son shrunk in his booster seat, his lips curving into a frown. “That is very, very rude! How would you feel if someone said something like that to you?” you demanded. Your son sniffed as he wrung his hands together.

“Love, please,” Kyle said. Your face was completely red as you looked back at him. “He’s only four-he doesn’t know any better,” he said calmly.

“I-I was just trying to be honest like you told me, Mommy,” (S/N) pouted. You unclench your jaw as you look into your son’s misty, chocolate-brown eyes. You exhaled through your nose as your shoulders lowered.

“It’s good to be honest, son. But we can’t say certain things because it might upset people. We need to be careful with our words,” you explained. Your son tilted his head as he resonated with your words.

“Okay, Mommy!” he said before going back to dancing to the music on the car radio. Your husband smiled at you, squeezing your hand gently as he moved the car forward.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[to-thelakes]

i wanna listen (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); mentions of blood, descriptions of wound care, hints of angst, angry!lip

summary; when lip finds out karen fucked frank, he finds his way to your door. he needed you to tell him it was okay.

series masterlist

lip beating the shit out of frank?? HOT but this man needed comforting. so here is another installment of my lip comfort series bc i want to wrap him up in bubble wrap and kiss his forehead

“He fucked her!” The sound of the front door slamming startled you. Your parents weren’t home, you had told Lip that earlier that day. You had been hoping to see him. You had only managed to briefly see him after he had gotten out of fucking jail and here he was, angry. You were confused.

“Lip? What’s going on?” You abandoned your peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had been halfway through making to move through the house towards him. He was seeing red, you could tell and his knuckles were bloody, a cut on his forehead. He looked angry, he looked upset, “Lip, baby.” The nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. It was reserved for moments like this.

“She fucked him!” He shouted, his rage not really directed at you. He sounded broken, his scarf wrapped haphazardly around him. You didn’t understand. He must have been talking about Karen. That was easy to tell but who?

Ian. No that didn’t seem likely. Ian was with Mandy as far as you knew and seemed uninterested in anyone else.

Kev? No that wouldn’t ever happen. 

Which only left one other man in Lip’s life that could make him this upset. His dad.

“Your dad?” You asked, eyes widening. He nodded, pacing back and forth. His hands were clenching and unclenching continuously, fingers running through his hair. You didn’t know what to say or what to do or how to approach this. 

What the fuck was going on?

“Can I look at your face?” You asked, approaching him cautiously. He would never lay a hand on you, never dare, you knew that but the anxious feeling still sat heavy in your stomach. You were mainly worried about him, what he would do to himself or someone else. Lip was self-loathing at his best.

“I fuckin’ hate him,” Lip stated as he stopped his pacing. You approached and gently pushed some hair out of his face. The cut didn’t look awful but it was still trickling blood. You frowned and took a hold of his hand.

“Can I take care of these?” You asked, eyes lingering on the wounds. Lip shrugged, breaking away from your hold. He had to keep moving, he wanted to hit something. You frowned, looking up at him. What were you supposed to say to that? How could you even make it better? You couldn’t, “Lip, come here,” You said softly, stepping towards him. You placed a hand on his bicep, gently pulling him to a stop.

His eyes had gotten glassy, words stuck in his throat and anger coursing through his veins but he didn’t know what to do with it. Beating his own dad up hadn’t made him feel any better. He didn’t know what to do.

“Come here,” You whispered and pulled him into a hug. You let his head bury into your neck as you held onto him tightly. He was squeezing you so tight, a vice grip and it was a little painful but you didn’t say anything. He needed an outlet and then the tears started. It was always like this.

You were convinced that if you weren’t there, he wouldn’t ever cry. He kept everything in until you were right in front of him. You were sure of that.

“Let it out, baby, it’s okay,” You whispered as you rested your head against his. He just cried, you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. His dad was an asshole. He always had been and you had watched as Lip fell in love with Karen day-after-day. Yeah, it was painful to watch but you couldn’t blame him.

She liked him, he liked her. He was a whore, so was she. It worked. It still hurt though. Not that you ever told him.

No, you weren’t ever gonna do that.

Just like your whispered ‘I love you’s, the pain was something just for you. Yours alone to bear.

After a little while, his tears subsided and you coaxed him to the couch. He took the seat first, discarding his scarf as he scrubbed away the tears from his cheeks. You let him, grabbing a tissue from the tissuebox before you sat in his lap, his hands rested on your thighs.

You used the tissue to mop up any residual tears before you wiped his snotty nose. He avoided your gaze the whole time, embarrassed. 

Once you were done, you balled it up and turned around to place it on the coffee table. Lip’s hands instinctively came up to your waist, keeping you stable. But based on the pained hiss he let out when he did, you were sure he’d bruised his hand. It probably wasn’t broken but it was definitely sprained at least.

The damage to his upper eyebrow was easier to heal even if he’d hate it all the same. Despite his exterior, Lip hated getting his wounds cleared. He hated the peroxide. The smell, the sting, the feel but he’d usually  just kept his hand on your hip and his focus on anything but the incoming sting.

And he followed the same pattern once you’d returned to his lap with a first aid kit in hand. You unzipped it, pulling out everything you thought you’d need to make it better, to make him feel better.

“Can you talk? I wanna listen,” Lip said after too long of a silence. You nodded, trying to grasp at anything to talk to him about. You weren’t sure what would piss him off. You didn’t know what to talk about. You didn’t want to frustrate him more so you decided to just talk about your parents. He liked your parents. They were better than his.

“Was talking to my mom the other day about you, she thinks we’re dating. I don’t know why. Well, I do, you stay for dinner more than anyone else and you’re always here when they’re home from work. But I told her we weren’t,” You explained as you placed the peroxide, cotton buds and antiseptic cream on the couch beside your two bodies, “She doesn’t believe it. My dad doesn’t seem to really care either way. 

“You know, I told him about the whole jail sentence threat and he called you a ‘good kid’. I mean, considering he works for some dumb fucking corporate overlords, he’s not really into the whole goody-two-shoes shit,” You were rambling, desperate to keep Lip’s mind distracted as you dipped a cotton bud into the peroxide solution. You then used it to clean up the edges of his cut. A soft hiss escaped his lips but you kept talking, as requested;

“I think he likes you and my dad doesn’t really like anyone. Oh and you know I’ve been looking at colleges. I know we still have another year or whatever but I was thinking about what literature programme to do. I know it’s a useless degree but I think it’d be nice. Or maybe some teaching or some shit. Like Miss Rosenthal that taught us in Freshman year. I think being like her would be nice, y’know.”

Lip just listened, feeling soothed by your rambling words and the wound on his forehead didn’t feel so painful now. He felt you gently dab antiseptic cream across it before you used some butterfly stitches to keep the wound closed.

“Think you should go for it,” Lip muttered. You smiled down at him, that pretty smile that he loved. 

“Yeah, we’ll see. Depends how well Senior goes,” You shrugged as you grabbed the first-aid kit again. “How’s your hand?” You asked as you shuffled back so you could lift it up to your face. He hissed out. There was obvious bruising and cuts on his knuckles from pummelling Frank. It seemed sore but hopefully fine.

“Feels broken,” He admitted. You scoffed.

“Dramatic,” You teased. He rolled his eyes and you grabbed an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit. You tore it open, “Last thing and then you can go home,” You muttered as you unravelled the wipe. You then gently wiped away the blood from his knuckles. They didn’t need much tending other than the wipe and some cream. Lip had survived worse.

Once you were done, you climbed off his lap and grabbed all the trash together before putting everything you didn’t use back into the kit. You then walked back to the kitchen, dumping the kit under the sink and getting rid of the trash.

“Need to go home,” Lip said as you walked back into the living room. You nodded. You knew he needed to. Probably had shit to do and so you just let him. You stayed in the doorway, not wanting to get too close in case you begged him to stay. You hated when he left, “I’ll give you a call,” He added. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m always here,” You nodded. He smiled tentatively before he disappeared out of the front door.

You sighed.

You hated this.

[mariariley]

Reaching out

Simon Riley x reader

2nd person

feminine terms such as: sweetheart, love, girl

reader is Simon’s s/o

WARNING: eating disorder

Word count: 1k

masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3

Food makes me sick and gives me fear that I will ruin my body. I feel guilt every time I eat. My appetite keeps getting worse. I’m writing this on the behalf of all people out there who are struggling with the same problem hence I’m writing in 2nd person. I chose Simon for this because he represents great comfort for me.

Additional inspiration by @saintship 🖤

Every time he lays his eyes on you it seems as if you’re getting thinner. Every time he holds you he fears he’s going to snap you in half. Your wrists and ankles appear thinner as your cheeks are starting to stick to your teeth, exposing your paper cutting cheekbones. The color of your skin had a lack of necessary vitamins and minerals written all over it.

When he’d trace his hand over your back he could count every vertebra in your spine, as well as you ribs. When he’d kiss your collarbones he’d notice how unnervingly exposed they’ve gotten.

He’d notice how you’d try to hide it with wearing his clothes more often.

You wouldn’t talk to him. You wouldn’t tell him anything. You didn’t want to be a burden.

“‘ere ya go, luv.” he said as he served your favorite mug filled with warm tea he’s just made, sitting his heavy body at the kitchen table diagonally from you.

You thanked him quietly as your sleepy body was still trying to adapt to the gloomy morning you had to face. His casual black t-shirt that you often sleep in protecting your tormented body from the light cool breeze of the slightly open window behind you.

“Look at me, luv.” his voice dipped in a barrel with “serious” written all over it.

You wouldn’t lift your heavy head. You wouldn’t speak. You’d just keep drinking your tea.

“Sweethear’, please, look at me.” he adjusted in his seat, leaning closer to you with his elbows on his knees. His gloved hands and a gently ticking watch around his wrist that would fill in the gaps of silence meeting your bowed gaze.

You wouldn’t lift your head. You wouldn’t speak. You’d just keep drinking your tea.

“Y/N.” your name being coated by his raspy voice coming from his smoker cords and rough accent from suburban Manchester made your empty stomach ache even more. His tone calm though. As if he was trying not to scare a hopeless wounded animal sitting before him.

You wouldn’t lift your head. You wouldn’t speak. You’d just keep drinking your tea.

“I am many things but oblivious is not one of ‘em. You need to talk to me, luv. You need to tell me what’s bothering you.” he said as you’d feel his gaze piercing through you.

“There’s nothing wrong with reaching out, luv, you know that?”

You wouldn’t lift your head. You wouldn’t speak. You’d just keep drinking your tea.

“You need to eat. You cannot live with a cuppa and a single biscuit hoping those liters and liters of water you’ve been drinking day after day will ease the hunger.” the amount of reality he was pouring into your brain was almost making your tears come out of your stomach instead of your eyes.

But you wouldn’t lift your head. You wouldn’t speak. You’d just keep drinking your tea.

Which would slam a thick nail into his stone cold heart.

“Listen to me carefully now. There’s two sandwiches in the fridge, ham and peanut butter jelly. You will have a glass of milk with that. For lunch I’ve made the British classic, fish and chips. We will ignore the fact I am not capable of making anything else.” he threw a little joke in there which pulled your lips into a tiny smile and made your gaze finally lift up.

Your sweet eyes met his. You couldn’t see the smile of relief under his mask but his cheeks lightly scrunching underneath his eyes was telling you enough.

“That’s my good gal.” he said before his tall broad figure with a dark aura stood in front of you, looking down at you.

“I will be back before six. I don’t want to see a single crumb on the plates when I get back. Do I make myself clear, soldier?” so he wouldn’t make it sound hoarse and aggressive, he made it entertaining for you.

“Copy loud and clear, lieutenant.” finally he got feedback from you.

“Good.” he said as he leaned to plant a soft kiss on your temple, placing his hand on the back of your head. He was looking down at you for a couple of seconds filled with comforting silence. All that you could hear is his loud inhales that were coming through the dark fabric of his mask. All that you could feel is his hand soothingly stroking your head.

“You willingly did all this for me…?” you asked.

“Shhh. Don’t speak.” he said almost through a whisper before he lifted his mask merely to reveal his mouth. He slowly leaned and planted a petal soft yet long kiss onto your forehead as he closed his heavy eye lids.

You thickly swallowed the urge to burst into tears on his lightly equipped gear he prepared for today’s short mission. Your mouth danced along with your eyebrows as a singular tear tickled its way down your cheek and along your jawline before Simon’s glove caught it.

He gently lifted your head farther up by the chin, holding painful yet soothing eye contact.

“Promise me you will do it.”

“Simon, I-“

“Promise me.”

“I will…” you said as a deep sharp breath scratched your lungs.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“I promise.”

“That’s my sweet gal. You know how to make me proud, don’t you?” he kept tickling your heart with praises and encouragement as he very carefully tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

The last thing you felt was a gentle stroke of his bare thumb on your cheek as the rest of his gloved hand nicely warmed it up.

“Can you buy me those chocolate chip cookies I like on your way back? And some gummies perhaps…” your voice toned down with each word you’d barely muster.

What you said made a light chuckle escape Simon’s chest as the sound of his heavy boots thumping on the old creaking floor was making its way to the front door.

“Duly noted.” was the last thing you heard from him before the sound of the heavy door closing greeted him out, pulling the air from the window and making it whistle its way across your mug as the herb scented steam danced along.

Dividers belong to @firefly-graphics 🖤

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Gods (Loki, Hermes, Shiva, Zeus, Hades, Rudra, Parvati, Kali and Durga) react to Child!Reader telling them she was late to Shiva’s dancing lessons because she was feeling ‘Pudge the Fish’ and it’s important to her because he ‘Controls the Weather’ but she had to go to the store to buy Peanut Butter because she only had Tuna (That scene in Lilo and Stitch)

Later, when Rudra comes over to pick her up, Shiva tells him about it, only Rudra to call that ‘odd’ because Reader gave him a PB&J sandwich today, who’s laughing/already dead on the floor after realizing ‘Pudge the Fish’ IS Rudra! (Rudra’s grumbling because he’s NOT a fish) and she makes Rudra turn to stone by saying “But your a Sandwich away from becoming Pudgy!” (Cue Shiva on the floor dying because he can’t breath)

-Your little pants filled the air as you ran into the grounds of Shiva’s house, hearing the music playing, nearly tripping once or twice. You were late to your dance lesson and trying to hurry.

-You ran in and didn’t realize the floor was wet and slipped, immediately crashing to the ground, halting everything as Shiva ran over, “Whoa there, Y/N- you okay?” he helped you up as you were trying not to cry from the pain as he made sure you weren’t hurt.

-Once you confirmed you were fine he ruffled your hair gently, “Was wondering where you were- you’re never late.”

-You wiped the last of your tears from your eyes, “I had to feed Pudge a peanut butter sandwich so he would make sure there was good weather for the performance tomorrow. I didn’t have any peanut butter, only tuna, and he hates tuna, so I had to go and get some.”

-Shiva was confused, as was Parvati as she and his other wives came over along with the other students, hearing what you had said. Kali held her cheek, a bit confused, “Who is Pudge?” you beamed brightly, “He controls the weather and he’s happy if he gets a peanut butter sandwich- so a happy Pudge makes for happy weather!”

-This… didn’t help their confusion at all, thinking you were adorable.

-Loki snickered warmly as he swept you into his arms, making you squeal lightly in delight, “You never feed me peanut butter sandwiches!” you couldn’t help but giggle, “You never asked me to!” Loki pouted cutely, rubbing his cheek against your own, whining about you being unfair.

-Hermes, who returned with a towel to clean up the water that was accidentally spilled, smiled seeing you and became concerned that you had fallen, kneeling down to be at your level to ask if you were okay.

-Zeus chuckled warmly, coming over, patting your head gently, “Y/N is fine- we’re just trying to figure out who Pudge is.” Hermes’ bewildered look of confusion joined the others.

-Rudra entered shortly afterward, panting himself before seeing you, giving you a smile, “I told you I would bring you to the lesson if you gave me a minute- it’s a good thing you’re full of energy.”

-You beamed, hands on your hips as you were in Hades’ arms, after he had picked you up, seeing your cheek turning a bit red from your fall, something him and Parvati checked out, making sure you weren’t hurt.

-Durga grinned over at Rudra, “If you were just with Y/N then you should know who Pudge is- she said she gave him a peanut butter sandwich.”

-Rudra immediately froze, looking confused, “That’s weird- Y/N gave me a sandwich right before coming over here.”

-All eyes went to you before Loki, Zeus, and Shiva burst into laughter, roaring loudly, falling over themselves, clutching their stomachs as Rudra pouted, coming over to poke your other cheek, the one that wasn’t red, “Oi! I’m not pudgy!!”

-Shiva couldn’t breathe while his wives were giggling, thinking it was cute as you pouted, “But when you eat your cheeks get all pudgy!!”

-Loki was pretty sure he was going to die from laughter as Hades chuckled, setting you down to join your friends in the lesson, ruffling your hair, “Some nicknames like that can be a little mean, Y/N- some might not think they’re cute like you do.”

-This made your eyes widen in shock before your ran over to Rudra, leaping into his arms, eyes full of tears, “I’m sorry Rudra! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!!”

-He couldn’t stay mad at you, giving you a hug, trying to calm you down as you were to the point of bursting into tears, “I still want your sandwiches because they’re full of love, just don’t call me Pudge anymore, okay?”

-The two of you linked pinkies, promising each other and you took Kali’s hand as she and her co-wives herded you and the other kids to a different area to practice your dancing, since the previous practice ground was full of laughing gods, even more so when Rudra lunged at Shiva, getting into a mock fight.

[louloulemons-posts]

Oil At The Coffee Shop XIV

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : The Finale

Word Count : 1.4k

Warnings : Not proofread, fluff, talks of pregnancy (not reader), fluffy ending for our couple, just cuteness all around, rambles.

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It had been over 18 months since you moved to Hawkins, Indiana which may have been the best decision you’d ever made in your life. You had travelled home for a couple days as it was Diane’s 30th birthday.

Knocking on the front door, a little head popped out, “Hi buddy.” Matthews face was covered with a grin, he reached out to give you a hug. “God you’ve gotten so big,” you laughed as you lifted him up.

“Bud I told you not to answer the door,” you heard Scott speaking, but he couldn’t stay mad at his son when he saw you stood there.

“Hi Scottie.”

“Hey,” he smiled, giving you a big hug. You hadn’t been able to see them in a while, so it was needed. “Guess who I brought with me?” You whispered to Matt, but loud enough so Scott could hear.

“Who?” he asked wide eyed, but before you could answer a man with a head for a curls walked up the path, bags in hand. “Uncle Eddie!” The small boy wriggled from your arms, and ran to him.

“Hey little man,” he laughed, wrapping him in a hug. Walking up to you and your brother, he hugged him too, the pair actually got on very well.

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

“Who is it Honey?” you heard Diane’s voice.

“Only your favourite people in the world,” you teased. Squealing, she ran - well waddled, to wrap her arms around you. “Oh my love how are you?”

“I’m great how are you birthday girl?”

“You know, as well as I can be,” she placed her hand on her swollen belly. “How’s the little bean doing?”

“Wriggly, that’s how they are.”

“Where’s the munchkin?”

“Kitchen, she’s eating a snack.” Wandering to the room, you saw the little lady eating her apple slices, dipping them in what you could only assume was peanut butter.

“Can I have one?” you asked, making the small girl jump slightly, but as soon as she realised who it was she was up on her feet. Bouncing on her feet and clapping in a way that you couldn’t help but grin at.

“Hi munchkin.”

“Hello!” she laughed as you picked her up, placing kisses to her sticky cheeks. “Is uncle Eddie here?” she asked.

“Why don’t we go see?”

Walking with the small girl on your hip, you found Eddie smiling as he chatted with Diane. “Eddie!” she squealed.

“Well hello you.” Taking Jenny from your arms her hands found his hair instinctively.

“Pretty,” she cooed.

“Thank you love. Your hairs very pretty too.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to sit with me whilst your mom opens her presents?” he asked her, she nodded happily.

Eddie sat with Jenny in his lap, the small girl inspecting his curls, wrapping them around her fingers. You think she may be the only person who loves them more than you.

Diane had originally come from New York, but moved after meeting your brother. Like you she didn’t travel back home often to see her family, so you and Eddie decided to buy them tickets to travel back.

As she read her card explaining what was happening her eyes welled up with tears, “You’re kidding?” she asked.

“Nope,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you so much,” she cried, hugging you tightly.

“Mama okay?” Jenny asked, looking up at Eddie. “Yeah moms okay, just super happy.”

“I blame the baby hormones entirely,” the woman joked, a grin on her face.

“Happy Birthday.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sat around the dinner table, your grandmother was also here now. She was another member in your family who absolutely adored Eddie.

Kissing his cheek as you passed to sit down next to him, he smiled, continuing to chat to the older woman. “So how is work treating you Edward?” she asked.

“It’s going well, me and my uncle are working hard.”

“You’re still taking rest though?”

“I make sure he does Gran.”

“And how’s the shop?”

“It’s great.”

“Who’s looking after it at the moment?”

“Max and El are in charge, but I have a couple more employees now.” She nodded, happy that her sisters shop was being well cared for.

You chatted happily, sat next to Jenny who was playing with her pasta. You wiped the small girls mouth, rubbing a hand over her cheek fondly.

“When are you planning on having some?” Your grandmother asked. Eddie choked on his drink, “I’m sorry?”

“When are you two planning on having kids?”

“Oh uh .. gran we’re not really ready to think about that yet,” you said to the woman.

“Well don’t keep me waiting!”

“Gran, Diane is pregnant right now, you’ve got another grandchild on the way.”

“And?” she teased.

“Okay, new topic please,” you flushed.

Eddie took your hand under the table, squeezing it gently. You looked up and he smiled softly at you, your face was warm, but you mimicked his expression.

“So when are you two travelling to see your family?” the woman asked Diane, and your focus went back to Jenny.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Drive safe!” Scott called out.

“We will!” you shouted back and were off, heading back to Hawkins. Eddie took your hand, holding it and kissing the back of it.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, it’s always hard leaving them, but we’ll see them soon.”

“I hope so, it was nice seeing your Gran again soon.”

“She keeps saying about coming to Hawkins, she misses it.”

“We’ll get her down, make a thing of it.”

“I think she’d like that.”

“Wayne’s asked if you wanted to come over for dinner when we get back?”

“I’d love that actually.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d been to your apartment to drop off your things and then headed to the trailer park to see Wayne. Eddie shared a big hug with his uncle, squeezing him tight. “Hey son.”

When they pulled away, Wayne smiled at you, “Hi Honey.”

“Hello,” you spoke, giving him a hug, not as tight as Eddie had, but a big hug nonetheless.

“Did you guys have a nice trip?”

“Oh it was great, how’s the shop been?” Eddie asked. “It’s been fine, but let’s not talk work, tell me everything over dinner.”

The three of you sat down to eat a nice warm meal, Wayne had made an older recipe of his moms. “This is delicious Wayne, thank you.”

“Oh honey don’t make me blush.”

“I’m being serious, you’ll have to give me the recipe.” He laughed, but paused as if he remembered something. “I actually have this for you,” he stood from the table.

He handed you over a few pieces of paper, the writing on it was his, messy chicken scratch, but you were use to it by now. “Wayne is this-“

“My sweet tea, I think it’s time we share it with others.”

“Oh thank you,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around the man.

“It’s the least I can do,” he spoke.

“I think you’ve become her favourite Munson old man,” Eddie laughed.

“Who says he hasn’t always been?” you teased.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Thank you again Wayne,” kissing the man’s cheek you waved goodbye. “You kids get back safe.”

The journey back to the shop was a short and quiet one, you and Eddie exhausted from all of the travelling you’d done today. “I’m ready for bed,” the man sighed, waking inside.

“Me too, but um .. before that can we talk about something?”

“Sure Sweetheart what’s up?” Leading him to the couch you sat side by side, holding his hand in yours.

“You know how we’ve been together a while now?”

“Mhm, best 18 months of my life,” he smiled.

“Same here. I was thinking maybe … if you’d want to .. you can say no.”

“Sweetheart, relax it’s just me.”

“Okay, okay. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to move in. Here. With me.”

“Move in with you?”

“I mean yeah, half your stuff is here already and you stay most nights and you have a key, but I want you to be here every night. I want this to be your home. Our first home.”

Before you could say anymore he was cupping your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your mouth. “I would love to live with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes baby, really.”

“We’re really doing this?”

“We are. And hey maybe we could get some practice making those babies your gran spoke about.” You laughed, smacking his chest.

“Make me a Munson and then we can talk about that,” you teased.

“Oh I plan too.”

“I love you Eddie.”

“Sweetheart I love you too.”

THE END

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : i genuinely can’t believe this is the end. the love and support for this story have been so overwhelming, i adore all of you. thank you for every like, comment and reblog it has been insane. thank you thank you thank you. that is all i can say.

i’m gonna miss these guys so much, but i wanted them to have a simple and loving ending. that’s what they deserve.

love you all 🤍

- Lou

taglist : @corrodedseraphine @flawiette @witchwolflea @emxxblog @plk-18 @vintagehellfire @lma1986 @squidscottjeans @eddiesguitarskills @nanas-lasagna @goth-cowgirl-03 @corrodedcoffincumslut @micheledawn1975 @hookergutss

[its--fandom--darling]

little bean - em x fem!reader

This is my submission to @oneforthemunny​‘s summertime writing game. I chose to do a wildcard 🃏 submission for cowboy eddie and sweet girl. I hope I did them justice and that everyone enjoys this sweet little story about dad!cowboy!eddie as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Pairing: Dad!Cowboy!Eddie Munson x Sweet Girl!Reader

@oneforthemunny​ @munsonology

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, reader being called little mama, afab reader, brief mention of car accident. please let me know if I’ve missed anything and I’ll update my list. (This isn’t edited. hopefully it’s all good. Enjoy!)

A/N: this is heavily inspired by personal experience with one of those ride and spring ponies that my sister and i had growing up. all header pictures are from pinterest, credit to the og owners of the photos. graphics by @firefly-graphics​

“Can you please uncover my eyes now?” you plead with your fiance as he guides you outside to see his latest surprise. You and Eddie had never really talked about having kids, always considering the many farm animals that you’d convinced him to adopt over the years as your pseudo-children. So when you’d found out that you were pregnant after a fender-bender, you and Eddie had the realization that you both wanted this little bean to be a part of your life. 

This brings you to now, 6 months into your pregnancy. The morning sickness had wrecked you for a while and your cravings had been intense and random. Pickles and peanut butter, sardines and fiddleheads, copious amounts of cheese doodles. But Eddie had taken everything in stride, making the 20 plus minute drive into town to hit the only 24 hour mini mart in the area whenever the urge for a midnight milkshake struck you. He’d truly been a saint, he’d always been good to you, treated you like a princess, but seeing you round with his child had unleashed another side of him, one that was incredibly tender. Without hesitation the two of you had decided to be surprised when the baby came, knowing that no matter what you had, it wouldn’t change the fact that you two were going to spoil, cherish and raise your little bean to be a kind person.  

“Just be patient for a second more, little mama. I don’t wanna spoil the surprise just yet,” he murmured, a grin evident in his voice. 

You huffed in fake annoyance, crossing your arms after the screen door, thwapped shut behind the two of you. 

“Alright, ready?” 

“Yes, Eds! The suspense is killing me!” you squeak, bringing your hands up to grab at your man’s calloused hands where they rested over your eyes. 

He chuckles as he lets his hands be pulled from your eyes. You blink a few times to adjust your vision before taking in his latest surprise. In your silence, your feel him lace his fingers with yours as you feel the familiar burn of tears in your eyes. 

“I know little bean won’t be able to use it for a while after they’ve made their grand entrance, but it was the last one in the store and sweet girl, I just couldn’t resist.”

You turn and kiss him softly. “It’s perfect, I love it.”

Sitting on the front porch is a ride and spring horse, almost identical to the one that you’d described to Eddie. You’d been telling him how, despite being a city girl, had spent many of your earliest summers of childhood at your grandparents. They lived in the countryside in a big white farmhouse style house.  Your grandfather was always a fan of black and white westerns, so you’d watched more than your fair share while your granny took her afternoon nap. You’d expressed to Eddie that those were some of your favorite childhood memories, especially when you’d arrived one day to find a beautiful chestnut colored ride and spring pony on your grandparents front lawn. The image of his sweet girl as child with little pigtails and her grandfather’s cowboy hat slipping down over her eyes as she bounced away the afternoon on that horse had made his heart clench. 

“Really? It isn’t too much? I know that I’ve been spoiling little bean and they ain’t even arrived yet but…”

You cut him off with a sweet kiss, cupping the back of his neck with your free hand and pouring your love and appreciation into the kiss. “It’s perfect,” you repeat as your lips part and he breaks into a grin as you bump your nose against his affectionately. “Thank you, for the horse and for taking care of me and bean. Thank you for listening to me and remembering those little details I shared with you.”

He grins wider, eyes crinkling with it. “It’s my pleasure, sweet girl. You two are my whole world.”

You grin at him, “You forgot about Medusa, can’t have her feeling left out now.” 

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at you, “Well, you’re right about that, sweet girl.”

You kiss him again. “Always am, aren’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll give you most of the time, little mama.”

You smirk up at him, “I’ll take it. Now come on and show me what else you got.”

He furrows his brow at you, “What are you talking about?”

“I just know you didn’t leave the store with just that toy, lay it on me, what else did you get?” 

He sighs, “You know me far too well, sweet girl.”

“It’s because I love ya handsome, now show me the goods.”

He chuckles as you settle on the porch swing he’d installed for you when you’d first moved in with him. “I’ll get the bag.”

You giggle and kick your feet up resting your hands on your bump, stroking your thumb over it tenderly as Eddie ran to the pick up to grab the rest of his haul. As you watched him go through everything that he picked up for your future child, you knew that there was no way that you would wanna do this with anyone but your Eddie. 

-

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(Read more sacrifice)

[honeydewtual]

NEW YEAR NEW GIF CHALLENGE

Rules: give your 2023 music review by showing your fave boy group, fave girl group, fave soloists, fave debut, and most played song of the year, then tag some friends to do theirs!

I was tagged by @xiaojuun & @kimkaitual thank u both <3

Fave Boy Group: NCT 127 / Song: Skyscraper

Fave Girl Group: Red Velvet / Song: Underwater

Fave Soloist: Woodz / Song: Drowning

Fave BG Debut: Riize / Song: Get a Guitar

Fave GG Debut: Misamo / Song: Do Not Touch

Most Played Song: DPR IAN / Song: Peanut Butter & Tears

I did 2 debuts bc I only did 1 soloist, also I didn't wanna have Christian in 2 spots lolol

Tagging: @irlvernon @awek-s @seungkwan-s @soonhoonsol @hohowonho @strhwaberries @hwichanis @jwooyoung @got7 @mizugucci @yutaslaugh @possession1981 @yoohyeontual (forgive me if you've already done this >~< please tag me in it so I can see !!) (also no pressure to do it if you haven't !)

[writer-and-artist27]

Tumblr Story: Reformed Bully

Note: For @dollya-robinprotector. Since you’re going through a rough patch, I thought some fluff would work in easing the stress.

Very light FGO/Passing Days-DOL crossover and all. Based heavily off this one ask and this comic that led me to meeting you, Dollya. :) Written as thanks for talking with me and bonding over the FGO gnomes.

Was listening to YOASOBI’s Idol when writing this. And Dr. Stone’s One Small Step.

Now if y’all excuse me, I need to sleep. More hematopathology work tomorrow.

--------------------------

By the time Vy had noticed the door show up in her room, she wasn’t surprised anymore. It even decided to appear once she had finished packing up the latest batch of magic peanut butter cookies for the Servants, but compared to the previous door, this one had—

“A silver handle…?” Unlike all of Chaldea’s sliding doors and the previous magic entrance that led to another Master’s world, this door looked almost ordinary, its white oak furnishings and matching pale silver doorknob making it look like it came out of a Home Depot. Even when compared to the white walls of her room in Novum Chaldea, the newest entryway looked… mundane. In spite of its faint glowing too.

Vy considered. Glancing down at her bags of cookies, one in particular stood out to Vy’s eye. It was a bit lopsided from including some of the bigger cookies of the batch, not to mention the rather crooked purple ribbon bow, but it was… it was apparently glowing the same faint yellow as the new door.

With one last look at the door, Vy felt herself smile wryly. “I guess… if this is glowing too… might as well try and take a chance as long as I’m not gone for too long, right? Just have to wear the right Mystic Code…”

--------------------------

“Nngh…”

“…Oh dear,” Vy said for herself when stepping through the magic door. What waited beyond it was a grassy hill, a single tree overlooking what looked like a farm, and a single man lying in the grass, asleep with—with actual tears in his eyes. It wasn’t a stretch to believe he was suffering from a nightmare in spite of the warm atmosphere around him, but add in the light thrashing and the sweat beading his forehead, Vy knew she couldn’t leave him be. 

The blond fringe of hair hiding one side of his face away from view was the last nail in the metaphorical coffin. If his hair was ginger-colored instead of blonde, then—

I want to help this person just like I help Robin. 

It was why Vy kept the one bag of cookies from Chaldea nestled close to the chest of her Decisive Battle uniform, slowly getting to her knees and reaching out with one gloved hand.

“Sir,” she whispered softly, patting his shoulder as gently as she could. Her ponytail could be pushed over her shoulder later. Right now, someone was suffering, and— “Sir, please wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

“N-Ngh—” The man groaned, nearly slapping her hand if not for Vy moving it out of the way just in time. “Lya—! Lya, I’m s—!”

“Sir,” Vy spoke more firmly, worry leaking into her voice before she realized it as her fingers reached up to pinch at his cheek. Sitting down on her knees, she said, “It’s alright — it’s over. It’s time for you to come back to reality now.”

The blond man got up with a start once her pinching registered, blue eyes wide with shock and tears once his spine made an audible crack from sitting up so abruptly. Vy immediately took her hand back, schooling her panic as best as she could once he looked at her past the haze in his blue eyes. “Lya—!” he blinked. “You’re… you’re not Lya.” His brow furrowed almost immediately, a glare settling in his eyes as he took her in. “Who are you, where did you come from, and when did you get to this farm?”

Typical, Vy thought. Outwardly, she did her best to smile placatingly, shrugging her shoulders. “Good morning to you too, good sir. I’m Vy — consider me a passerby who came through a magic door and saw someone crying in their sleep and therefore couldn’t leave them alone,” she said, pointing at her own eyes past her glasses to gesture to her newly awake companion. The “magic door” part of her statement wasn’t a complete lie, but it was enough to wipe some of the apprehension off of his face. “I’ve had experience with waking up with tears in my eyes, see.”

“…Oh.” And as soon as he said it, the man raised one calloused hand to wipe at his face, the tattooed wristband on his knuckles shining a darker shade of black with the droplets sticking to his skin with the motion. “…Did I look that much like shit?”

“Not as bad as someone who’s had the life literally burned out of them, no.” Vy said immediately, the image of the many victims of Camelot Gawain's Excalibur Galatine coming to the forefront of her mind before she pushed the thought away. That sight was just plain disgusting. “It could’ve been worse.” 

Now the man was looking at her with a completely new face. “Burned?”

She smiled and offered the bag of cookies in her arms to him instead. “Yep. I’ve seen worse than someone crying in their sleep, so you have nothing to worry about,” she answered in regards to his unspoken question, shaking her head. “Enough of debating the ‘worse’ in looks. Would you like some cookies? I have a bag right here for you.”

“…Cookies?” The man wasn’t staring daggers at her at least, but he still looked wary. “You made them?”

“With just peanut butter, eggs, and sugar, yes. They’re supposed to be ‘magic.’” Vy felt herself smile a bit wider once she could see the curiosity start to dawn on the man’s face. She offered the bag to him again, lopsided purple ribbon bow and all. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison them and I taste-tested them beforehand. It just looked like you needed something sweet to work off the nightmare, sir.”

The man glanced at her, then at the bag in her hands, and back at her. “You… You don’t even know me,” he slowly choked out, a large drop of a tear forming in the corner of his visible eye as the blue of his iris widened to reflect her image. “You only just… you only just stumble on me, and you just—” 

Vy wasn’t sure whether to smile or just wait. She decided to opt for both while adding in an extra shrug of her shoulders. 

“I…” The man choked again, shaking his head while scrubbing at his face with his hand again. The tattoos — he had more on his other hand and even his neck — all of them looking like shackles to match his voice coming out vulnerable and raw-sounding once he said, “I hurt the woman I love. I hurt more than just her. I-I’m still scared I could hurt the family she gave me. So then, why would you—”

“What’s wrong,” Vy said quietly to cut off the self-deprecating rant, “with wanting to help someone, then?”

The man fell silent, the tear in his eye slowly growing big enough to streak his cheek as it then fell to the grass between them.

With a bit of mustered courage — from Mash, from Artoria, from Achilles, from Robin — Vy smiled a bit wider as she reached over with her left hand — glove, lotus-shaped Command Seals and all — to wipe at the man’s exposed cheek. “Hurt is just gonna happen, sir. That’s just how life is,” she said in a softer voice, ignoring the wetness starting to spread out against the fingertips of her glove as she rubbed his cheekbone as gently as she could. As Da Vinci might’ve done in her place, as the Eternal Genius. As Dr. Roman might’ve done in her place, as a medical professional — as a living human from King Solomon’s remains. “And even if I don’t know what happened to hurt you so much, what matters now is how you move forward in the face of all of it. And if you’re waking up like this, crying and worrying about how to treat the person you love even after you hurt her, I’d like to think you’re walking in the right direction.”

The man half-snorted, half-sniffled, but he didn’t slap her hand away. Instead, he weakly leaned into her palm, his other hand coming up to weakly grasp at the bag of cookies sitting between them. “…Huh.” A weak laugh leaves his lips, blue eyes teary still as he closed them for a shaky inhale of breath. “Guess I’m more fucked up than I thought, listening to a stranger and taking fucking peanut butter cookies from them.”

“I’m not a stranger when I previously said my name, sir, not to mention I offered the cookies in the first place,” Vy said plainly, but she still smiled at him. It was the least she could do. “And really — we’re all struggling in life. Might as well start somewhere. So.” She pushed the cookies into his shaking palm, forcing as much cheer into her voice as possible. “My name is Vy. What is yours, sir?”

The smile he gives her in that moment makes her think, Robin, again. Even with the ear piercings and the tattoos, his face looks bright for the first time ever in the sunlight peeking past the tree hanging over them and the farm sitting far away. “…Whitney. It’s… it’s Whitney.”

“Well then!” Vy hummed, making sure to pat his wet cheek a few more times for good measure before lowering her left hand to take his in a squeeze. “It’s nice to meet you, Whitney! Hurt and all! I have some time on my hands being a passerby, so why don’t we chat for a bit? Hopefully get the tears out of you too!” 

Because when barely anyone outside of Mash and the Servants — Robin especially — reached out when she woke up crying, the least Vy could do was make sure no one else could have a repeat experience.

[bowieandqueen11]

The Mausoleum / Klaus Hargreeves Imagine

Not requested but wanted to write some comfort for poor Klaus and also give me some more practice writing again!

Warning: some strong language!

(I do not own the Umbrella Academy or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @capinejghafa.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘Are you sure this is such a good idea?’

Ben’s timid voice warbles out from beside your ear, but you’re too busy shoving half-wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into your knapsack to really pay attention to his hesitancy. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs in return, looking dolefully down at the bottle of chocolate milk he hands to you.

‘If I don’t go, how much longer do you think Klaus is going to last out there? This is the third time this week dear old daddy dickhead has locked him out there, and each time he comes back he’s even quieter than the last. It’s starting to scare me Ben.’ The young boy who should be far to young to already know the horrors of which you speak swallows thickly beside you; his left hand gives him away as it unconsciously reaches up to grip at his pyjama top, nails digging into the meat of his stomach. The other hand grips onto the frame of the kitchen chair and squeezes until his knuckles burn white. ‘I know. It’s scaring me too.’ 

You make to go, but before you can turn towards the stairs Ben has desperately taken a step forward and grabbed onto your bicep. With a fear-stricken face, he tries and tugs you back towards the dim mothy glow of the open fridge light, nearly knocking a jar of mayonnaise onto the floor with the effort. ‘But Y/n, dad will kill you if he catches you sneaking out there again! He called my bluff the last time you went down the fire escape, and he swore till he was red in the face if you did it another time he’d lock you away and I’d never see you again!’

You could the tears beginning to swell in Ben’s eyes as he began to tremble, his fingers jumping in a mixture of fear and overwhelming resentment as you placed one of your own tenderly on top of it. ‘What the hell am I going to do if you go? It’ll be so lonely here without you, I might as well be a ghost with how much the others just look through me.’ He wipes the back of his nose with his sleeve and looks deploringly at you, begging you to just stay and come back up the stairs into the safety of bed. But you can’t do it. You just can’t. 

‘Something happens to him out there Ben, and if Luther won’t do something to stop it, the least I can try and do is make sure my brother doesn’t have to go through it alone.’

He knew it had been a slim chance, but he was disappointed all the same. He just nodded, finally letting you go and your arm fell back down to your side with an unceremonious slump. ‘Hey, if I do get kicked out, you can just bribe into using his powers to help you come and see me!’, you joke in an attempt to try and cheer your brother up, but he just rolls his eyes and turns his back to you, beginning the long chore of cleaning up the plates and knives you had used to make some snacks for Klaus. You sigh, running up behind him to surprise him with one final tight hug round his back, before turning on your heels and heading straight for your bedroom window.

It didn’t take very long for you to hear Klaus’ screams once you had clambered down the very rusty, very rickety looking ladder attached by rusting screws to the outer wall of the Academy. They were faint at first: jagged and piercing as they scattered across the white marble tombstones like weak moonlight. You shook your torch, swearing indistinctly at it as the thin beam began to flicker across the tangled weeds and unkempt dirt that scraped across your angles. Trying to swallow the nervousness that was starting to crawl its way up your belly and into your throat, you gave it a final slap against your palm: just in time for it to fully illuminate how close you had wandered to an angel statue on the edge of the lot. Nearly walking into its stern, moss coated nose, you yelp as you take a stumble back onto the thin stretch of cobblestoned walkway that leads to the mausoleum. With a hand on your heart, you double over and take a second to try and recapture your breath - a second that is cut short by the sound of a shriek of pure terror that seemed to be echoing around the finger scratched walls of the crypt.

You run the rest of the way, no other thought or care in your head except the need to reach Klaus before something unimaginably terrible happened.

‘Klaus - Klaus, it’s me! Can you hear me? I’m right here, hold on a sec!’ You slide to a halt, wincing as you skid through the dirt and slam your shoulder into the imposing bars lining the crypt door. Trying to shine your torch through the sliver of gap left between the door and the frame, you barely manage to make out the blur of tufty hair as you squint.

‘Y/n, please! PLEASE! Please help me!’, he sobs, scratching at the hinges of the door and heaving between his cries. You hear a thump against the metal; Klaus’ voice reverbs from further towards the floor, alerting you to the fact that in his desperation to escape, he’s probably injured himself by falling onto his knees. 

‘PLEASE. Make them STOP! Y/N!’ He’s full on blubbering crying now as you try with every pounding fibre of your being to inch the door further and further open with your telekinesis power. Becoming frustrated at the slow progress, you try to help it along by clawing at the handle of the door yourself; you lift one booted foot to the door and heave backwards, nearly flying onto the crusty top of a grave as you tugged. Klaus joined you, the last bit of energy he had left being used to flatten his palms against his side of the door and push, before being followed by a few dull thuds and the sound of frantic scraping of fingernails.

Except for your grunts of effort, and one last ear-splitting shrill from Klaus, the night seems to settle into an even more uneasy quietness. A cold solitude settles over your back and sends goose bumps shooting over your muscles as you continue to work alone, praying the quavering zombie moans coming from behind the locked door aren’t the sound of Klaus joining the dead.

You nearly cry in relief when the heavy door finally swings backwards, flooding the shrouded room with clouded starlight. For a second, Klaus seems to have forgotten it was you looming like the boogeyman on top of the steps. He shivers, emitting a broken yelp as he cowers into himself and squeezes his eyes shut tighter, the tears beginning to burn into his skin. 

Jumping down the stairs, you don’t even care that you nearly twist over your ankle as you come skidding to a halt next to your inconsolable brother. Even when you place your hands on your shoulder and come kneeling down next to them, they seem to heave like dying gasps against the darkness, trying to shove you off of him. ‘Klaus, Klaus, it’s me - it’s me! It’s not Reggie, it’s me, it’s okay.’ It takes a few goes to try and get past his ducking head as you reach round his fingers and unclasp them from his face. He refuses to open his eyes until you manage to cup his cheeks, turning him quite abruptly with a heartfelt impatience towards you. They feel damp, and cold, so very cold against your fingertips, and yet it’s the most welcome feeling in the world when you begin to detect the hints of warmness: of life in his soft cheeks too.

‘Y-Y/n?’ He sniffles, and you feel your heart cleave in two as he musters all his courage to blink open just one eye at you. When he finally seems to come to his senses, you wouldn’t have been able to claw Klaus Hargreeves off you even if you had a thousand years and the weight of a million men. He tumbles head first against you, knocking your hands back into a pile of crunchy, dry leaves as he leaps his arms around your neck and nestles his head there too for good measure.

‘Please- please don’t leave me here. They won’t... they won’t stop screaming.’ You can feel his hands fist into the back of your blazer. ‘I want to go home.’

‘Oh Klausey’, you start to card your fingers through the back of his hair, the two of you so wrapped up in just gripping onto each other for dear life that you don’t realise he’s crying into your shirt - the wet patch that soon will give your evening activities away to Sir Reginald Hargreeves. For the moment, those thoughts are far in the recesses of your mind; you bump the side of your head against Klaus’ ear, and use your free hand to rub up and down his back as his stifled whimpers begin to wind down into sniffs.

‘We’ll go home soon, once the sun comes up.’

‘And you’ll let me sleep in your room again?’

‘Do you really even have to ask?’ 

He seems to calm down at that: his breath evens out into long sighs, his vice around you loosening until he’s able to pull slightly back from you and look into your eyes with his own blood-shot ones. He even does his best to try and smile at you, a sudden tired relish shuddering through his heart at the realisation that there was actually someone in the world that cared about him. That loved him. And that he loved more than anything too. The sudden fear that grips him at the thought of you ever going away from him was enough to distract him from the ghosts for a moment; instead he turns his efforts into reaching out and gripping your fingers with a forlorn frown.

‘And we can hide under the blankets again?’

‘Old Reggie will never find us there, Klaus. Or the ghosts. You’ll be safe with me forever, I promise.’

[heartfullofleeches]

What about Devlin with a reader whos also immortal, just them doing dumb shit together, maybe they film it and have an online following

(I'll do a full request if you ask, but i just had to shitpost this. [Slapstick deaths])

Random person who's been stalking you: I'm so glad you finally gave me a chance Y/n...

You: Yeah! I just have to warn you though, this is what happened to my ex.

[You open the front door to reveal Devlin sprawled on the floor with his heart outside his chest and "forever yours" written on the wall in blood. You can't keep up the act as they run off screaming, wiping away tears. Devlin pops the organ back in his chest and gets up to kiss you, looking at the camera behind you]

Devlin: And that's how you get rid of unwanted advances. Or just maim the guy, but Y/n won't let me do that again.

-

Devlin: You think it's unethical for us to pretend to be the headless horseman terrorizing this town since its founding just for sick laughs and free shit?

You: .....can you really say that while licking the peanut butter ice cream you stole from some teen off me, knowing you're severely allergic?

Delvin: ...shit you right. Was just trying to make small talk before I croak. Let's hit up that old dude next. I know that fucker got the good shit that went out in the 70's [seizes and passes out on your bare chest]

-

Reporter: So you two say you are time travlers?

Both of you, in unison: Yup

Reporter: Then could you tell us what you've experienced in your adventures?

Delvin: For starters, literally everyone but us and like four people die out within the next sixty years and bigfoot was indeed real. We have proof.

[The picture is just Delvin in one of those uncanny nightmare fuel early 80's arcade mascot suits hiding in some trees.]