#until he was against a sword and a hard place

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 4: The Prodigal Son

AO3 Link || Part 1, 2 & 3

Dick could pretend all he wanted and play at being a strong, reliable hero, but he wasn’t.

Nightwing had become a beacon of what any new member of the Justice League could aspire to be, standing next to the founding members after winning his own place and not as a replacement to Batman after his retirement. He had worked hard to be the person everyone could rely on, and in turn he had won many wonderful friends that would undoubtedly give everything for him if he just asked— But Dick Grayson? Dick Grayson was a coward.

Dick Grayson was scared to death every day when he didn’t have his siblings in sight, anxiety building up on his chest until he could call or visit to see them, make sure they were safe, they were home, they were alive. He had lost every drop of courage the day he returned home only to be told his little brother had been killed. There wasn’t a single day since those news that he didn’t feel fear, even if he knew his little siblings were strong and capable on their own.

But… well. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid for Damian, or of what he could do.

Dick had started his vigilante career as a child of all of nine years old when his rage was too much to contain and Bruce had lost every battle to keep him home. He had trained with and against many people and he had grown so much that it was said he had long ago surpassed Batman, and yet— yet he felt that Damian was almost, just almost, as good as him.

Damian, the fifteen year old child that had just been dropped on their doorstep a couple months ago. Damian, who refused to acknowledge their presence most days, who swore in expletives that scandalised even Alfred, and who was a trained and seasoned assassin. Damian, who could heal inhumanely fast, who could see in the dark and move without sound, and who had broken Tim’s arm in three with two strikes too fast for any of them to stop.

He was just a kid who shouldn’t have been in their business -much like none of Dick’s siblings should be- yet he was proficient in many of Bruce’s and Dick’s techniques, and he was unfairly fast in learning amidst a fight… Dick had tried setting him up against Cass, and had thought it worked for a moment… until he learnt to use her own moves and set them equally until they were both exhausted. He had mopped the floors with Tim and Steph, and then almost defeated Dick all in a row.

When Tim had asked sarcastically if that was all he had, Damian had frowned as he opened and closed his fist.

“I’m still adjusting to fight without weapons”

A frightening phrase that had made them all fall silent, and then he had to ask cautiously if he’d like to spar with wooden swords. He could’ve sworn Damian almost brightened to that suggestion, but it was such a quick expression he couldn’t be sure. He then picked a katana and won. Against everyone.

And so, after an entire week of testing, they sat in the batcave and Bruce took a deep breath as he stared at all his children, and Dick for once didn’t know how to feel knowing that there was absolutely no excuse to not let Damian out onto the field.

“It’s… clear that your mother trained you well” he started.

“She didn’t” Damian interrupted immediately “Mother had tutors for me, but baba made me better“

Dick mentally filed another tick for concern on his thoughts about Damian’s mysterious baba.

“Right” B cleared his throat “your baba trained you well, I admit that you’re strong enough— But!” the boy scowled and he continued “Things here are not like you’re used to and….”

“I’ve been told on your family’s stand on killing. It’s stupid, but I’m willing to play along” he grunted reluctantly.

Bruce stared at him, and so did Tim and Dick, but there was no trace of deceit in him. For all his intensity and temper, he wasn’t really the type to lie as they had learnt, so Dick was inclined to believe him this time.

“… Very well. You can’t be Robin”

“You have said that already” Damian rolled his eyes “I’ll take another name”

That is certainly not the point, and none of them were comfortable with him being out there when they didn’t even know why he wanted to.

Things in Gotham had gone downhill when Jason died, and when Batman was put into the case that stood next to Robin, it was up to everyone else to keep the order in the city. They’d done a good job of keeping up the illusion, of pretending Batman still existed, but those who knew him well knew the truth… Joker hadn’t escaped in ten years, not since a week after Jay died and Nightwing beat him half to death before tossing him in Arkham. But now the asylum was on high alert, and a certain clown was said to be in a good mood after those photos of Robin were leaked.

The news had exploded and the topic was trending online, hence why Damian was actually needed despite their reluctance; he was the only one that fit the build and size, and who could also perfectly replicate Jason’s body language as terrifyingly confirmed by the photos and footage. They didn’t look that much alike and Damian’s skin was darker, but the pictures were taken at night and from far off, nobody could spot the difference unless he was close enough and standing still.

“Can you promise that you’ll be careful and follow Dick’s rules?”

The boy frowned.

“I’m not a child, I know what to do”

“We already discussed this, it’s my way or nothing”

“… Fine, I promise” he said in a grunt, crossing his arms across his chest. “Any other ridiculous demands?”

“You never patrol alone, ever” Bruce held up a hand before he could protest “that’s a rule all of them follow, not only you”

He didn’t look any more happy but nodded.

“And one last thing… you’re going to need to learn the ropes of how this works, and Dick can’t supervise you all the time. For obvious reasons, I don’t believe anybody else is qualified to supervise you, so after talking it through with Clark… Superboy is going to be your partner whenever Nightwing is not available”

Damian didn’t say anything, no immediate explosion of anger, nothing. They all waited with baited breath as he just stared at Bruce.

“He’s a child” he finally replied, with actual bafflement in his voice.

“Jon is thirteen, yes, but he’s been in the business for longer than you, and he’s kryptonian. It’s safer”

“So I don’t kill him”

“Safer for both of you”

“No, you really just want to prevent me from killing him because I don’t have access to kryptonite at the moment”

“I… Like to believe you would not attempt to kill a child”

Damian shook his head in disbelief and Tim pushed past Dick.

“Are you serious, B!? Jon’s way too good for him, it’s not safe! Why not— hell, if you want him to be supervised by a kryptonian then Kon might be able to!”

Bruce sighed deeply.

“Supernova is as busy as you are, son. And there is an undeniable advantage on Damian being around a boy his own age, it will raise less suspicion”

“B, this is madness!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea….”

Slowly they all started to argue and Bruce tried to appease Steph, Tim and Duke, with Cass staying silently frowning in the background and Dick letting himself fall seated on the chair next to the computer, exhausted both physically and mentally. Damian didn’t look too upset but he was definitely over the whole conversation and completely tuned it out, moving through a couple sword forms with his wooden katana. God… when had things fallen apart this bad?

A phone rang in the silence and Damian turned his head towards the computer, where his burner phone rested. Dick’s eyes widened and slowly the discussion died down as the teen crossed the room and picked it up, looking down at the screen for a second before he answered it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you ungrateful little brat!?”

Dick fully winced at the furious voice that hollered at the other side, audible in the sudden dead silence of the cave. Damian looked wholly unimpressed, and he wasn’t sure if to think that was stupid or brave.

“I’m fitting in, like you said I should. Wayne has agreed to let me patrol with them”

Damian please, don’t you have any self preservation instincts? Why are you talking to your father like this? Damian, I beg you—

“If you so much as step a single foot out on the streets on patrol I WILL DRAG YOU BACK kicking and screaming if I have to!”

“Ok”

“You have no idea of—! … What?”

Damian’s lips turned into a smug smirk and Dick gaped at him.

“I said ok. You can come drag me back inside the house”

Oh.

Oh, this sneaky little brat… It was such a simple trap but it worked. This mysterious “baba” of his obviously wanted nothing to do with the bats -so far their leading theory was that he didn’t want to risk getting arrested-, which was why he couldn’t check on Damian personally, but if the boy did something so reckless that he wouldn’t approve of, something he knew only he would be able to stop… then he had no choice but to come to Gotham and set him straight.

“Damian Al-Ghul, you know exactly why I don’t want you out playing superhero” the man hissed in a low dangerous tone.

“I know” the teen agreed calmly “and it’s not going to stop me. I didn’t want you to go either and you didn’t listen to me”

“I’m the adult in this relationship you little shit, you don’t get to make demands”

“Well you gave me away so it’s not up to you anymore!” And he hung up. He turned off the phone and turned away to stare directly at Bruce. “When can I go out, then?”

Fuck…. Dick seriously needed a drink.

Robbing a store in Gotham was frighteningly easy, as long as you didn’t run across a very pissed off owner or a vigilante. But hey, Mark was very sure that none of the Bats patrolled that area at that hour, giving him a window of time to act and leave silently without anybody being disturbed.

After emptying the safe and putting a few semi valuable items in his backpack he sighed and turned around towards the door, and nearly had a heart attack right there and then, a strangled yelp coming out of his mouth. There was… god, that was a new one!

The figure was perched atop a car at the other side of the narrow street, crouched and staring directly into him through the soulless white eyes. They wore a black hood that obscured most of their face, but the bat cowl they wore was still visible and the ears poked out of it, easily making them identifiable. The rest of the suit was mostly black and red, with a somewhat childish touch on it that gave it a creepy vibe; the chunky boots of a bright red that matched the knee and elbow pads, the crimson palms of the black gloves, and the bright bat on their chest. Something about this miniature Batman reminded Mark of… of Robin, whose pictures had been supposedly taken not long ago.

Fuck, no, it couldn’t be him! Robin had died ten years ago, this was impossible—

The figure stood from his crouch and jumped down to the pavement to start making his way over, and Mark screamed in terror.

New Vigilante in Gotham! Could This Be Robin!?

Dick folded the newspaper and sighed, looking up to the many screens of the computer again. The media had been in a frenzy the entire week, and the internet was blowing up even more. Hardcore fans had dug up every single video and photo they had of Robin from ten years ago and were comparing them side to side with little Batman, and incredibly… they were thoroughly convinced that they were one and the same, which had sparked an avalanche of theories as to how had he come back from the dead, and why so late. If any of them had been skeptical about Damian’s ability to imitate Jason, then their doubts had been eliminated— hell, he could do it so well that he had added details not even Dick or Bruce could remember until they rewatched old footage to compare.

In just his first night the new Batman had turned the city upside down, and so far after a week of continuous work, he seemed to be doing just fine… which was why now, Bruce wanted them to focus on finding that mysterious ‘baba’.

Damian was still not aware of their active investigation, but either way they had found absolutely nothing, not even Babs had managed to dug up any evidence or record, and it didn’t help that the info they had was severely limited to little facts the youngest Wayne dropped here and there.

“I don’t think we’ll find shit” Tim declared next to him, grumpily staring at the nth file they had on the League of Assassins. “We don’t even know what this man looks like”

Dick let out a long sigh and leaned back on his chair as another article popped up on screen, one mentioning the date of Robin’s death, and a vague memory popped up in his head.

“Hey Timmy, do you remember I told you about that kid I ran into at the faire?” he asked quietly as he straightened back up.

“Yeah, the rude little shit that didn’t even say thank you”

“…. I think that was Damian”

Tim finally looked up and frowned.

“What?”

Dick nodded as he turned to look at him with wide eyes, now remembering clearly.

“He was wearing sunglasses so I didn’t see his eyes, but the skintone and face shape is the same, and he was wearing his black hoodie that day, I’m a hundred percent positive it was him”

And come on, the way he talked was a dead giveaway too.

“Dick, why is this relevant?” his poor little brother asked in annoyance.

“Because I saw his dad too!” he declared triumphantly at last, grinning like a mad man, before he turned to the computer and started typing frantically “I couldn’t see his face either, he wore sunglasses and a mask, but he was tall— hell, I think he’s taller and broader than Bruce. And he— he had white hair, I remember I saw white hair beneath his hood”

Tim scrunched up his nose.

“He’s old….? But that can’t be, his voice sounds way too young… dyed hair?”

“Possibly. It would make sense if he doesn’t want to be recognised”

It was a small trail, but a trail nonetheless. With those small identifiers they could check across the security feed of thousands of cameras in Gotham, and narrow the search to big tall men with white hair that had been spotted around the time Damian arrived and right before it. If they clocked a single glampse on him from one of those, they could follow the lead until it brought them to his doorstep. The man was good at hiding, they had to admit, but they weren’t the world’s greatest detectives for nothing.

Before they could truly start digging on the new lead properly, one of the screens was overaken by Babs.

“Sorry to crash your party boys, but I think you should clock in early today— I just got an alert on East End for way too many gunshots. Mini Batman is requesting to go out”

“I’m not a mini anything, Gordon” Damian called from the stairs, where he was walking down followed by a silent Cass.

Babs completely ignored him and Dick frowned.

“I don’t think it’s wise to bring you to a possible gang war, Damian”

The fifteen year old raised an eyebrow at him.

“Should I remind you that of anybody in this room, I have performed best the entire week?” he replied dryly.

Dick frowned but Cass surprised them by raising her hand to interrupt.

“We need all the help. Batman will play nice”

They glanced at Damian, who rolled his eyes but nodded in accordance to their sister. Well then… time to work.

What they found in East End was not a gang war in fact, but clowns… Joker’s thugs. While Joker himself hadn’t stepped out of Arkham since Dick last tossed him in ten years ago, his clowns usually came back every few months to remind Gotham they still existed, that Joker could come back every time… It didn’t seem like he had escaped, not yet at least; when and if he did, he would definitely try to make it memorable for ‘little Robin’. At the very least, it meant there was no rogue running rampant and the cleanup was dealt with almost completely smoothly—

That is, until Damian was snatched mid air by the tall and imposing figure of a man, grabbed by the collar of his cape like a kitten as he kicked to struggle to get free.

Dick -or well, Nightwing- turned to attack and then stopped in his tracks. That man was big, definitely bigger than Bruce was now, with a shock of white hair amidst black and his face covered by both a domino and a red metallic mask over his nose and mouth. None of them heard him move near them, despite the fact he was not a few steps away… he had managed to sneak up on all the bats, he could’ve done anything before they even relised he was present.

“I warned you, and you didn’t listen” the robotic voice came from the mask and its modulator “You’re fucking grounded, you little piece of shit”

Damian twisted to kick him in the chest despite being held up in the air, although the man didn’t even react or move at being hit. The boy wasn’t upset though, grinning as if he’d just won their little spat, which in a way he had.

“Hi, baba” he said innocently “you look really nice tonight”

#batman #batfam #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #no batman au #fanfic #he’s here! #the boy is finally back!

[cata-strophes]

the dark sbi server had another secret santa this year, this was my gift :}

bit of lore i couldnt add bc it would be ten pages longer:

neapolitan trio are demon brothers, phil is their demon dad. techno is the oldest, and he was taken years ago by evil angels or smth idk, he had his memories supressed and for the longest time thought he was human and joined the war on the angelic forces's side.

tommy and wil are tasked to get him back, and tommy does so first, but he wants some time with his brother who is always busy!! so he pretends to be a human child and follows him around. techno grows fond of him and wants to protect him.

wilbur eventually finds him and tommy refuses to give him victory, so the gig is up!!

techno does spend more time with tommy later on ^-^

#debated a lot whether i post this or just leave it for the people of the server but tbh i havent posted much of anything in quite some time #so here it is #dark sbi #bedrock bros #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #secret santa #dark bedrock bros #sbi #my art #tommyinnit fanart #technoblade fanart #wilbur soot fanart #comic #this started as a techno as a warlock idea #refusing tommy's deal #until he was against a sword and a hard place #which is why the sixth page has that composition

[angelltheninth]

only thinking about mizu fucking me with the hilt of her blade….CAN U IMAGINE???? then going off and fighting some battle with it and thinking of how you fell apart on it

Now that is whole other levels of thirst that you've unlocked.

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, sword... eh... I don't know how to tag this there's a sword hilt used for sex, praise, clit sucking, body kissing

Word count: 0.9k

A/N: One of my best friends has a katana he bought in Japan... I can never look at it again.

Because she wasn't biologically male Mizu got to be a little creative in the ways she made love to you. It often involved her tongue, her fingers, her thighs, the toys she'd get in brothels. But that was while you were in town. On the road there weren't any toys for you to use but she still wanted to give you something of a new experience.

She just didn't know how.

"Mizu." You got her attention away from your naked body and back to your face, "You've been staring at me for the past five minutes. I like it but I thought you wanted to have sex. If you don't I can put my clothes back on and we can go to sleep." Unless you were found by the people chasing you the other day.

She pursed her lips together and ran her free hand through her hair. "I'm trying to think. I don't want to be too far away from my katana. If we're attacked I need to be able to protect us." Her fingers tapped along on the sheath, torn between setting her weapon aside and ravaging you or staying up to be on the lookout.

You inched closer to her and took a seat in her lap, cuddling up to her more than trying to instigate something.

Mizu was happy to wrap an arm around you and hold you close while holding her sword against her shoulder with the other. As she tapped on it again an idea came to her. If Eiji found out...

"Wait, this might be a little unconventional but could you stand up for me?" Your cunt gave an excited flutter at being so close to Mizu's lips. Those soft lips only kissed your stomach and a bit above your cunt, they never actually came to where you wanted them most. Instead Mizu discarded her sword sheath and gripped it at the very bottom of the hilt, the other half placed directly under your cunt. She caught the flicker of hesitation on your face, "You don't have to." Her lips pressed against your hip, "I thought you might enjoy something thicker than my fingers."

You gulped at the implications. The hilt of her sword. Her sword was a part of her, so in a way it wouldn't be that odd to... but still you can't fit all of it. Slowly and carefully you lowered yourself to the end of the handle, feeling the cold against your warm pussy lips. Mizu watched as your pussy opened and adjusted to the hilt, taking in more and more all the way up to her hand.

"Good girl." Mizu kissed your hip again and caressed the other with her free hand. You moaned at her soft praise as you pulled up and sank back down on the hilt, your pussy juices dripping down on her hand. "Go slowly, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Let your cunt adjust." She knew this must feel a little odd but when you didn't protest and instead gripped onto her shoulders so you could balance yourself better she smirked up at you.

You clenched around the sword as you kept going up and down until it was no longer uncomfortable, only making you moan in pleasure. Yes it was still an odd feeling but by no means was it bad.

Mizu pulled you a little closer by the hip, making sure to move her sword to until you were within leaning range of her lips. She waited for you to still before she wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked. It was hard to keep still now but you had to in order for her to keep doing what she was doing. Her tongue flicked at your sensitive nub and made you throw your head back, you let out a long breathy moan, dripping more slick onto him and even past his hand, onto the blade itself.

She pulled back, her lips wet from you and eyes focused on your cunt. "Look at how well you're taking it. Keep going." Finally you could start moving again, deepening your thrusts as she too began moving the sword, but only a little, still letting you do most of the moving.

You felt your walls tighten around it, not caring how lewd you sounded or looked right now, or how filthy this act was, "I'm close... about to come..."

Not without her mouth you weren't. Her tongue was back on you, lapping at your clit, only this time you couldn't keep your hips still, which made you press against her tongue at the same time as you took the hilt back up into your cunt.

Mizu pressed the flat of her tongue against your clit one last time before your body shook, but Mizu was there to catch you and ease the hilt out of your still pulsing pussy, then cupping it with her hand to catch some more slick into her palm. "You were so good." You collapsed into her lap again, head against her chest, breathing fast and heart hammering against your ribcage.

Sadly your bliss was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps and loud voices.

"Shit." Mizu threw her cape over you, "Stay in here. Get dressed in case we need to run." She kissed your cheek quickly and picked up her glasses and her sword. She would protect you, kill any enemy that dares to threaten you with the very same sword she just used to make you orgasm.

There was something both odd and comforting about that. It made you tune out the screams coming from the outside, the strings of curses and sounds of bodies falling onto the floor. But Mizu never fell, she always came back to you, always kept you safe.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai fanfiction #mizu fanfiction #bes fanfiction #blue eye samurai smut #mizu smut #bes smut #x female reader

[edenesth]

The Captain's Favourite

Pairing: captain!Hongjoong x doctor!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

Struggling to steady your laboured breath, you pressed a trembling hand against the stab wound beneath your chest. Blinking rapidly, you attempted to regain clarity in your vision. From what you could discern, it seemed like the injury might not involve a vital organ, offering a glimmer of reassurance.

However, the stark reality hit hard – you were the sole medical professional on board.

You were always the one attending to the health of your fellow crewmates and never the one in need of medical attention. That all changed abruptly during the unexpected ambush launched by a rival pirate crew.

They strategically targeted a crucial member of the crew before escalating the assault further. The rationale was clear – if the ship's only medical personnel was incapacitated, who would attend to the wounded? Save for the captain, you were the next most important person on the vessel.

But the enemy was also aware you were so much more than just a doctor, "There she is, Captain Hongjoong's favourite. Get her," were the chilling words that you heard before feeling the sharp pain of a dagger piercing your abdomen.

The duration of the battle became a haze, with moments of consciousness slipping in and out as you observed, through blurred vision, your crewmates fighting back fiercely to defend your ship and all the treasures within.

The fight finally ended when your captain impaled the rival leader directly in the heart. Hongjoong, visibly exhausted, let out a weary exhale as he dropped his sword, "Take him and go, the rest of you. If you don't wish to join him in the afterlife." He commanded.

The rival pirates hastily moved to remove their leader's lifeless form from your ship without having to be told twice. It took no time for Captain Hongjoong to scan the surroundings anxiously, his heart racing as he searched for you.

"Wh-where is she—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he noticed what seemed to be your boots tucked away in a corner, cleverly concealed behind barrels. The enemy had evidently gone to great lengths to ensure you wouldn't be discovered until it was too late.

Without wasting a moment, he sprinted towards you, pushing all the obstacles out of his way with newfound strength fueled by desperation. His eyes widened, feeling his heart lurch at the sight of the red staining your shirt and your pale complexion.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't you dare leave me!" Hongjoong screamed, gently pulling you into his arms, "Hey, look at me. I'm your captain, and I order you not to close your eyes."

However, no amount of commanding could mend your injuries, and he was acutely aware of that fact. Time blurred as he urgently directed his crew to transport you to the nearest town without delay. Losing you was not an option he was willing to entertain.

Drawing on his experience from observing you tend to injured crewmates countless times, the captain applied pressure and bandaged your wound to minimise the bleeding until you could receive proper medical treatment.

Upon arriving at the closest town, you were swiftly taken to a medical facility, where Hongjoong fought to catch his breath as they gently took you from his arms, "Don't worry, we'll take care of her," He gave the medical staff a firm glare, "You better."

The nurse nodded nervously, motioning for him to wait by the available bench. Everyone in the facility recognised him; it was the very place he had taken you away from many years ago. As a woman, you had been denied the chance to prove yourself despite being an apprentice there.

That changed the day Hongjoong arrived, bloodied and in need of help.

With all the doctors unavailable, you, the only trainee present, seized the opportunity to showcase your skills by treating the pirate captain.

While he rested after you tended to his injury, Hongjoong overheard a conversation between you and your superior. Rather than receiving praise for your competent work, you were berated for not adhering to the rules and taking matters into your own hands.

Enraged by what he heard, he proposed taking you in as the crew doctor. Despite being aware of his pirate status, you agreed because no one had recognised and acknowledged your skills the way he did.

As time passed, you'd grown to harbour feelings for one another. Though neither of you openly admitted to them, the entire crew was well aware of the captain's undeniable affection for you. They often wondered when Hongjoong would muster the courage to confess.

You were used to him always watching out for you; he would go to great lengths, even pretending to be unwell just to stay near you. He'd reprimand other crewmates for inconveniencing you with their minor issues; a total hypocrite himself. It was hard for you to not realise the fact that he was clearly favouring you, especially when everyone aboard has been calling you 'the captain's favourite' since day one.

Except he would always be in denial whenever teased about it, despite his actions proving completely otherwise.

Now, waiting anxiously, he regretted not revealing his feelings sooner. The thought of you potentially dying without knowing his love haunted him. Reflecting on missed opportunities, he questioned why he hadn't uttered those three words earlier. What was holding him back? What was he so afraid of?

After what felt like an eternity, he was finally allowed to see you. Entering the room where you rested, he held his breath until relief flooded over him at the sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. He sat beside you, gently holding your hand to his face and pressing his lips against your palm, "Oh, thank god, you're okay."

Tears streamed down his face silently, oblivious to the fact that you'd awakened to his sobs. You smiled weakly, moving your fingers to wipe his wet cheeks, "Who would've thought? The mighty Captain Hongjoong is crying for me."

His head shot up immediately, a tearful chuckle escaping him and he nodded, "That's right. Do you see the power you have over me?" Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never, "I love you so much, you know that? You mean the world to me."

You nodded, "I love you too, captain. Thought you'd never admit it."

Leaning in, he kissed your lips softly, "I'll tell you I love you every day now if I have to. And I refuse to let anything like this happen again. You're moving to my quarters at once."

If you thought he was joking, you were mistaken. Things were about to change drastically. Consider yourself promoted from crew doctor to the captain's most valuable treasure, as if you weren't already.

Now that we have Prince San, General Seonghwa, and Captain Hongjoong, I'm still contemplating what other roles to assign to the rest of the members.

Anyway, really hope you're all enjoying these imagines. Thanks for reading, and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fic #hongjoong drabble #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #hongjoong imagines

[cozage]

FLUFF! SWEET! ADORABLE! Fem S/O x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, and Law hcs! Feeling lonely whenever their lover is busy, S/O sewed together a plushie version of her lover to keep her busy and confess secrets to her plushie like she was the one who are the last cake piece or something! And their lover has been feeling lonely bc S/O hasn’t been hanging with them that much!

A/N: :) this was so cute to make. I hope I had the right idea &lt;3

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, Law

Cw: just some fluff for your soul :) maybe a few brief moments of angst/sadness, but it's all happy endings, alcohol/drunk mention in Ace’s

Total word count: 4k (about 600-1k for each person)

A Plushie Substitute

Zoro

You hadn’t seen Zoro in a few hours, which wasn’t uncommon. He had been training extra hard here recently, and that resulted in you seeing your boyfriend even less than you normally did. You tried not to be too upset with the circumstances; you knew Zoro’s dream was to become the greatest swordsman in the world, and you would never get in the way of that. So instead, you created a small green-headed plushie with only one eye to take his place when you needed him while he was busy. You whispered your crew gossip to him that you got from Nami, and humorously found that the plushie Zoro spoke about as much as the real Zoro when you relayed the ship drama to him.

--

Zoro had done 1,000 push ups, 500 crunches, and 200 dumbbell squats. He had trained in all of the sword handling positions with his three swords and with weighted barbells until he had perfected each stance. He had worked all morning and all afternoon without stopping, and now all he wanted to do was see you. He wanted to sit in silence while you chatted about your day and filled him in on everything he had missed while he was training. A piece of him had hoped you would come up and interrupt his workout at some point, even if you just quietly existed together, but you hadn’t. So he set off to find you. 

--

Zoro eyed around the ship, looking for you in your normal spots on the deck. “Oi, Nami,” he called to the navigator. “Do you know where y/n is?”

Nami glared at Zoro for a moment, and then rolled her eyes. “I saw her on the stern a few minutes ago, staring off into the sea. Might wanna check on her.”

He walked to the rear of the boat, keeping his eye out for you. He found you sitting on the railing staring out to sea, just like Nami said. You appeared to be mumbling softly to someone, but he didn’t see anyone around you who you could be talking to. 

As he approached, you could hear someone coming up behind you, and you stopped speaking to plushie Zoro and quickly tucked him safely away. 

Zoro came over, easily hoisting himself up over the railing to sit next to you. He wrapped his arm around you to hold your waist, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his muscular chest. He pulled you closer into him, chuckling softly. He always loved when you snuggled up into him, and you loved being so close to him in simple ways.

You remained quiet, enjoying the silence with him. He looked over at you curiously, waiting for you to start talking about your day like normal, but you didn’t speak up. Finally he decided to prompt you, wanting to hear your voice. “How was your day?”

“It was good! I hung out with Nami on the deck for a bit.” You attempt to keep your recap of the day brief, not wanting to bother him with all of the boring details. You had already gotten all of the chattiness and gossip out of your system by talking to his plushie replacement. 

Zoro waits for you to expand, but you don’t, and he starts to grow concerned over your lack of conversation. He thought about how he heard you earlier when he approached, talking and laughing to some unseen person. He squeezed you lightly in an attempt to comfort you, though he wasn’t sure what he was comforting you from. “You okay? Who were you chatting with earlier when I arrived?”

You blush. “I’m okay. I was just talking to…well, you.” You pause, and you see a confused look pass over Zoro’s face. You reluctantly pull out the plushie you’ve created and show your boyfriend. You expect him to laugh at you or make some kind of joke, but he just silently takes the plushie from your hand and examines it for a few minutes. 

“You made this?” He finally asks. You simply nod in response. 

“It looks just like me. It even has a little haramaki and a bandana like mine.” He pauses for a moment to kiss your temple. “This looks really great. But why did you make it?”

Your eyes stay fixed on the plushie. “I just didn’t want to interrupt your workouts, and I know you don’t care much for the drama that I usually tell you about. I created him to help with that. That way I can still tell someone and you don’t have to listen to all my annoying rambling and-”

“Your rambling is not annoying,” Zoro says, cutting you off. “I like your voice. And I like your presence.” He hands the plushie back to you. “Keep this guy of course, but you can always talk to me about anything you want to, and you’re always welcome in the crow’s nest when I’m training. Actually, you should come up tomorrow. I can use you for some new workouts I’d like to try.”

You laugh at that sentiment, but you don’t continue the conversation anymore. You all stay quiet for a while before the moss-haired man speaks up again. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His cheeks are tinted as you look his way. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I’m not always a good talker, but I do always listen to you.”

“No, Zoro. It’s not that at all! I just…I just thought you weren’t interested, and I didn’t want to bother you with the silly stuff.”

“You can bother me now, if you’d like.”

And so you all sit on the railing, watching the sun sink into the sea. You talk, he listens, and all is right with the world. 

Luffy

It had been a long time since you had joined Luffy on an island adventure. He was always the type to run off and find trouble before the Sunny had even docked, whereas you preferred to take your time and do a check before you ventured to a new island. You didn’t mind the distance you two usually had on an island, but you did miss sharing an adventure with your boyfriend. Still, you refused to complain or stand in the way of his adventure, so you created a smaller version of him, working on as many small details as you could to make him as realistic as possible. And when you finished, you secured him onto your backpack, ready to set out on an adventure with a version of him. 

--

Luffy had been wandering around for several hours now, looking for something to do. There were small adventures he had found, like herding a farmer’s cattle and exploring some random caves. He even found giant holes in the ground with random artifacts and cool shining crystals, but he didn’t have much use for any of those things, and found it all relatively boring. This island was mostly safe, unfortunately for him, and now he just wanted to find you and try to explore more or head off to the next island.

--

“Oh, cool!” You hear Luffy behind you, rapidly approaching. You brace yourself just in time, and you feel the strawhat man crash into you from behind. His momentum sends you both tumbling into the dirt. 

“Luuuuufffffyyyy!” You’re now face down against the ground and Luffy is sitting on top of you, looking at your backpack with a deep interest. He seems to be completely unaware of the chaos his entrance just caused, or that you are struggling underneath him to get up. 

“Oh man, this is so cool! It’s like a mini-me! The straw hat and the scars and even the sandals! It’s perfect!” He bends down to meet your face and grins. “Hey, y/n! Who made this? I want one of you too!”

You sigh, giving up hope of getting up anytime soon, and answer his question. “I made it, Luffy.”

“No way! It looks amazing! I knew you could make stuff, but I had no idea you were this talented. Can you make me one of you too? So we can match!” His eyes glisten with hope as he’s turning the little doll over in his fingers, examining the details you managed to incorporate. 

“Sure, Luffy.” You’re being short with him, and he’s finally starting to notice. 

His eyes break away from the doll and finally look at you. “Hm? You okay? Do you need me to get up?”

“No, Luffy. It’s fine. I just made Mini-Luffy and clipped him onto my backpack so we could keep going on adventures together.”

“But we always go on adventures,” He questions. “We’re on one right now, aren’t we?”

“I know, but we’re usually split up during the whole thing. And I just, I don’t know…” You had promised yourself you wouldn’t get mad at Luffy for being a captain, for wanting adventure, but you realize now it really did hurt to be separated from him during important moments. “I don’t want to be left behind.”

Luffy gets off your back and stands, silently reaching out a hand to help you to your feet. He readjusts his hat to hide his face, and then takes your hand. “I’m sorry, y/n,” and you can hear the shame in his voice. “I won’t leave you ever again.”

You laugh at that, and you feel a little better now that you’ve gotten that fear off your chest. “Don’t be silly, Luffy.” You give him a peck on his cheek, right under his scar. “I’m not asking you to do that. Just maybe in the future when you slingshot to an island, take me with you every now and then, okay?”

He grins his classic, wide smile,and he nods. “Deal!”

Relief rushes through you, and you relax a bit. Now that you’ve talked to him about your worries, you want to know what his adventures have been on this island. “So, what did you find here? Anything interesting?”

He talks your ear off the whole way back to the ship, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. When you get back, you start working on a plushie look-alike of you for Luffy, and hand it to him a few days later. He loops it around his belt, grinning widely. “Now we’ll never be apart!”

When the next island appears, he slingshots away without you, but you choose to laugh at his hastiness to get to the island. It doesn’t bother you as much now, now that you’ve talked to him about it. But he quickly returns, wraps a rubber arm around you, and takes off again, laughing the whole way. “Almost forgot, but I’ll always come back for you!”

Sanji

Sanji had been gone for a while now, beckoned away again by your hungry captain. It had probably been the tenth time today that he had gotten up to make food for someone on the ship, but that was the duty that came along with the title of being the Sunny’s chef. You were normally pretty good about being on your own while Sanji had to work, but today you wanted to be around him. You went to your room to find some scrap cloth to piece together a Sanji stand-in for the time being.

--

The stove was still hot as Sanji cleaned up from Luffy’s eleventh meal of the day. He wasn’t sure if it was the calm ocean that made Luffy so restless and hungry, but Sanji was starting to get nervous about food rations. He never minded cooking for people of course, but it felt like he was spending more time cooking for his captain than he was spending time with you. He wanted nothing more than to run out to you and cover you in a shower of kisses to make up for lost time, but he knew he couldn’t leave the kitchen such a mess. While he cleaned up, he whipped up your favorite drink and snacks to bring out to you, excited to see your face again. 

--

Sanji strode towards you, thrilled to see you still sunning on the deck in your bathing suit. He had already taken Nami and Robin their own snacks, and left out other snacks for the boys if they got hungry. Hopefully that would give him a few hours of peace alone with you. 

“Y/N-swannnn,” he cooed to you as he approached, but stopped when he saw something in his seat. He looked at it curiously as he got closer, and he realized it was a small replica of himself.

His sudden silence prompted you to open one of your eyes, and you saw him looking at the doll you had put in his seat. “Oh…” you stutter, starting to sit up to explain.

“Y/N-swannnn! Did you make this?!?!” Sanji sets down your refreshments and picks up the doll, pausing briefly to give it a thorough examination. “It’s perfect!” he gushes. “You’ve created such a beautiful piece of work! It’s so-”

“It’s just for when you’re busy!” You rush to explain. “I missed having you around, that’s all.”

Sanji clutches the doll to his chest, and his eyes turn to hearts at your sentimentality. He rushes to you, finally embracing you after hours of being apart. He litters your faces with kisses, which causes you to erupt into a fit of giggles. Once he’s pampered you enough, he pulls you in for a hug, your plushie squeezed between the two of you. 

“Are you hungry, my love?” He pulls away from you, reaching back for the refreshments to serve you. He sneaks the plushie into his pocket while he displays the assortments of snacks and drinks for you to enjoy, which you happily oblige. 

The food is so perfect, you let out a soft moan in delight. “You always make the best food dear,” you praise. “I’ll never eat food from anyone else.”

“Only the best for my queen,” He says, kissing your forehead and taking a seat next to you. 

After a few minutes, you fell asleep surrounded by the smell of cigarette smoke. Sanji let you sleep, watching you endearingly until he was called away once again  to make dinner.

When you awoke a few hours later, you reached out for Sanji before opening your eyes, but only found air in his place. Your eyes peeked open, searching for him, but instead you found his plushie, along with a note that said “He’s only here until I get back ♥”

Ace

You had lost your fiery boyfriend once again. He was off, running amok with the group of  rowdy crew members on the new island. You had decided to stay on the ship, finishing up some minor projects instead of venturing out to the island. He was supposed to return before the sun set, but the moon was working its way through the night sky now, and you were too tired to stay up and wait for him longer. He had already missed your all’s afternoon nap, which made you skip it as well. You never slept well without him anyway. The next morning, he was still MIA, and you were painfully sleep deprived from missing a nap and not sleeping well. You put your crafting skills to work and created a smaller version of him, hoping that would help your sleeping problem temporarily. It ended up being successful, and you fell asleep easier than you expected, curling up with a small stuffed Ace in the absence of your normal sized one.

--

Ace had gotten hopelessly lost, both directionally and time wise. By the time he realized he was late getting back to the ship, he was too intoxicated to navigate back anyway, and opted to share a room with a bunch of his friends at the inn across the street. He slept horribly without you by his side, and as he shuffled back to the ship late the next morning, he prayed you’d be in the mood for an early nap along with him. 

--

Ace stumbled onto the ship, exhausted and hungover. His eyes raked over the deck, searching desperately for you. He didn’t go out with the boys often, and these days he always seemed to regret his adventures whenever they were included. He would’ve much rather been with you last night, and he hoped you’d forgive him for his last minute change of plans. 

He couldn’t find you on the deck, and he spent the next half an hour searching the ship for you, but he was unsuccessful. He finally gave up, returning to his room to nap with the hope that he would find you later.

He was shocked to find you curled up in his bed, already asleep. He’s even more surprised to see you holding a small stuffed animal, and a small tinge of jealousy rises up in him. You had told him before that you never needed a stuffed animal, since you had always had him to cuddle with at night. 

He climbed into bed next to you, brushing your hair back from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead. You stir, familiar with his touch, and your eyes lazily open to meet his. 

“Oh,” you smile, realizing Ace has finally returned back to you. “Hey, you.”

He smiles back to you, his worry melting away. “Hey you.”

You wipe the sleep from your eyes, and prop yourself up on your elbow. “How was your night?”

He fills you in on his evening briefly. “I wish I hadn’t been away for the whole night. I lost track of time. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” You’re happy to hear that he missed you as well. Your fingers trail absentmindedly along his bare chest, not saying anything more about the matter. You had already forgotten about the Ace plushie you had created, but he was still staring at it in the dark room, trying to figure out what it was. 

He picked up the stuffed plushie between the two of you and examined it, quickly realizing that it was a replica of him. He caught your eye and held it up, smirking at you. “Miss me much?”

You gave a shy smile back to him, snatching the plushie from him quickly. “Maybe.” 

He gave you a soft peck on the lips, grinning at your timidness. “It looks cute. Not as cute as me, but cute. I like it.”

He pulls you against him, and you settle into his warm skin. “Shall we nap? Make up for lost time?”

You hum in agreement, already drifting off into sleep, comforted in the routine you all have returned to.

Law

Trafalgar Law had always been a surgeon first and a human being second. You knew that, and you knew how much being a surgeon with the Ope-Ope fruit meant to him. So, when you started dating and his study habits didn’t change, you tried to manage without him. You didn’t want to be too clingy, especially at the beginning. And you had always been good at sewing, so you just created a smaller version of the man you loved, so you could keep him around even when he was busy. Now, whenever you felt the urge to tell Law something throughout the day, you had someone to share it with even when he was occupied. 

-

Law stared at the ceiling fan that was lazily spinning in circles. He had been studying for hours, praying you would come in to distract him at some point. But you had started showing up less and less frequently now that the two of you were official. He wasn’t necessarily concerned about you getting cold feet; if something was wrong, he was certain you would talk to him rather than avoid him. Still, he missed you, your smile, the way you always ran into the room as if the most amazing thing in the world had just happened to you. These days, it felt like the only time he really saw you was during meals and island days. 

-

He found you in the common room, reading a book on the couch. He approached you quietly from behind, and as he bent down, he reached around and grabbed your book with his tattooed fingers as he rested his chin atop your head. 

You hummed pleasantly to his approach. “You’re out of your office early today.” You tilt your head up just enough to make contact with his golden eyes. 

“I needed a break.” He kissed your hair lightly and broke away from you, taking the book out of your hands and he stood back up. He closed it gently and sat it on the table behind him. He returned back to you again, this time reaching down to grab your now empty hands. “Do you want to make dinner with me?”

You had to tilt your head back further now to look him in the eye, and you saw him staring down at you with a smirk. 

That stupid smirk always made words more difficult than they were meant to be, and you take a second to find them all before you speak. “I didn’t think Bepo put you on the schedule for dinner this week, did he?”

His golden eyes pierce into yours, and you feel a blush enter your cheeks when he answers.“I was thinking just the two of us tonight. Pasta?”

-

You stir the sauce as Law begins to work on a side dish for the two of you. “Did anything interesting happen today?”

You hum back, trying to recall exactly what the crew got into today while your captain was locked away. “Oh! Clementine died. The crew gave him a burial at sea. It was very touching.”

You can hear Law stop whatever he was doing behind you. “Y/n-ya,” he starts slowly, gears turning in his head. “Who the hell is Clementine?”

You abandon the sauce momentarily to turn and face him. “You know, the fish Penguin caught the other day?”

“The fish?” His brows furrow at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re playing a prank on him. “What fish?”

“The fish! The orange fish that Penguin caught and thought was too pretty to kill! I definitely told you about it.” He’s still staring at you with a confounded look spread across his face. 

“You definitely did not tell me about that.” The look on his face tells you that he’s being truthful, and you realize that you didn’t tell him. You told plushie Law about that day, not actual Law. You turn back to the saucepot, not wanting Law to see your face reddening over your mistake. “Oh, I must’ve been confused. Sorry.”

But your captain knows you well, and he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y/n-ya,” he speaks softly, his head now resting on your shoulder. “What are you hiding from me?”

Your blush deepens from pink to red, and you try your best to focus on the task in front of you. “Oh, uh, nothing.” You stutter over your words, not helping your case. 

“Y/n-yaaaa…” He presses his lips against your cheek for a long while. He always knows the best way to get you to cave to him, and you curse yourself for being so readable. 

“I just…” You pause for a moment, and he hums against your skin to urge you on. “I have this mini-you that I sometimes hang out with when you’re busy and tell stuff too. I guess I told Mini-Law about the fish…”

You feel Law pull away from you, examining your face. He’s trying to catch your eye, but you are intensely staring at the sauce in front of you.

“A mini-me?” He asks, confused. You finally look up at him, and you can see a twinge of sadness in his eye.  

“I just didn’t want to interrupt your studying!” You race to explain. “I know how important it is for you to be a surgeon and I didn’t want to get in the way-”

He pulls you close against his chest, stunning you into silence. You can feel his soft lips pressing into the crown of your head, and he inhales deeply against you. “You can always interrupt me to talk to me, no matter how small you think it is.” He pulls you back from him so he can look into your eyes again. “I’ve missed seeing you in my office. I’ve missed your stories and your voice. I want to hear everything, I want to know it all. So come bother me anytime, okay y/n-ya?”

“I promise.” He bends down to kiss you, and you find yourself smiling against his lips. You can smell the faint scent of tomato burning, but the two of you will figure that out later.

#one piece #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you

[targaryen-dynasty]

HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN.

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), kinda non/dub con, p in v, semi public sex, doggy style, degrading, slapping, possessiveness, jealousy

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: This is something I had written and posted on another blog when I (rightfully so) didn't feel accepted and wanted in fandom. So, if any of you remembers this, it was written by me. This is Lingo Jam High Valyrian (it is what it is).

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

It’s way past the Hour of the Owl as you stand in the Throne Room all by yourself, all the tables for the guests of your coronation feast having already been cleared and stored away by the keep’s staff, leaving the room to be eerily quiet and empty. 

You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, looming in the dim light of the candles around you, your fingertips barely brushing the sharp swords that were used to forge it by your ancestors, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. 

Unlike your grandsire and father before you, you chose to wear the Conqueror's Crown and wield his sword, the big, square-cut rubies complimenting the red and gold gown you wear. 

The heavy doors leading to the intimidating chambers open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence and serenity. His footsteps are heavy, bouncing off the thick columns and walls on his way. 

“Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the ostentatious crown on your head toppling to the ground at the impact. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?

Both your hands immediately seize the armrests of the Iron Throne for support, more so when Daemon’s hand falls to the place between your shoulders to keep you exactly like you are, bowed forward with no chance to move. 

“Hm,” he hums, applying just a bit of pressure to your back. “How about the wanton farce you put up for that cunt of a Lannister?” he growls, and it’s clear it is not a question but an accusation. 

There is not one breath wasted when he rucks up the skirts of your gown and bunches it around your waist, fisting it with one of his large paws. The matter clearly is serious, and has occupied him for quite some time now, considering he prefers to answer you in the Common Tongue rather than High Valyrian. 

But it’s not like you have much time to really process the meaning behind it, considering he has the skirt of your dress in his hand in one moment, and your small clothes pulled down to your knees in the next. Your cunt is exposed to the chilly air of the Red Keep, and to anyone that chooses to intrude on such an intimate and disgraceful scene, and much to your husband’s surprise, you’re soaked with anticipation, which earns you a condescending scoff from him. 

He has quickly figured that there isn't going to come any reply from you, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the little predicament you’ve found yourself in, and forces a gasp from your lips as his hand not-so-gently collides with your bare rear. 

Your body slightly lulls forwards to escape the stinging pain that blooms on your skin, but to now avail. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you press with despair audible in your voice. 

But he just scoffs again. “Oh, I’m certain you don’t,” his voice is sharp, and the words underlined by another slap to your arse. “Need I remind Your Grace who they belong to?” The title is spoken in a way to make a mock display of his courtesy, displaying how little care he holds over your status at this moment.

You’re not quite sure what he is up to when you feel and hear him shifting and fumbling behind you, although you have a mild guess, until you feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He pushes in even before you can answer, any words or pathetic protests dying on your tongue and replaced by a moan. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself, his tone suddenly taking on an air of smugness. His words are followed by a groan that flows into a heedless sigh as he bottoms out completely, his heavy stones pressing against your pearl. 

It’s a side to Daemon you haven’t seen or experienced before, despite growing up around him, his several liaisons and wives. There has never been something akin to jealousy coursing through his veins before. Yes, Daemon has always been a little too rough, too impatient and resolving matters by force rather than diplomacy, but you’ve never seen his blood run this hot. 

His upper body slightly bends forward and towers over yours as he rests one hand on the backrest of the Throne, the other still on your hip with your skirts tightly secured.

“What–” the words catch in your throat, replaced by a whimper. “What if anyone sees us?” 

“Jaelan zirȳ naejot ūndegon,” he growls. “Jaelan zirȳ naejot gīmigon bona iksā ñuhon.” I want them to see. I want them to know that you’re mine. 

The whine you release at that is nothing short of desperate. While the thought of anyone catching you two frightens you to the core, you enjoy the possessive side of him, reveling in his desire just for you since you’ve shared it most of your life with your younger sister. 

Pulling out of you almost completely, the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains buried inside of you. While the feeling of the sudden loss makes you whine and push your hips back to force him inside again, it also earns you another harsh slap that’s served to your arse. 

“Ao sagon ñuhon se mazemā skoros nyke tepagon ao, iksis bona shifang?” You're mine and you take what I give you, is that understood?

Daemon then slams his hips into yours as a warning, filling you up in a swift thrust that has you gasping, and knocks the air straight from your lungs. “Gaomagon daor mazverdagon nyke ivestragon ziry arlī,” he snarls. “Gaomagon. Ao. Shifang?” Each word is punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips.  Don’t make me say it again. Do. You. Understand?

“K… kessa,” you hiccup. Yes. 

The pace of his thrusts is nothing short of ruthless, and he uses the grip on your hip to pull you back onto his cock for your bodies to meet halfway, the most obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls of the Throne Room.

His stones are heavy and the fleshy pouch they sit in slightly sagged, hitting your pearl perfectly each time he fills you to the brim, and sending shivers to the soles of your feet. 

Daemon forces your hips higher until you’re standing on your tiptoes for him, your body barely supported by his fingers digging into your hip. The angle changes with that, allowing him to shove his cock into you even deeper than before – a change that has him groaning and grunting over and over again. 

Your eyes lull into the back of your head, and the heat in your belly doesn’t diminish, causing a renewed wave of arousal to leak out of your core. 

Not caring if the skirts of your gown are riding down again, he grips the back of your neck firmly enough so you can’t turn your head, fucking you as if his life depends on it and knocking every breath clean out of your lungs. 

Daemon forces his hips into yours with such determination, he is close to shoving you up against the Iron Throne with the force of his need, your arms almost buckling under the weight he puts onto you. You can tell he’s racing for completion, effectively pulling you with him in the process. 

With the pace of his hips not faltering once, your peak washes over you in an ambush. The pleasure in your body gets intense enough for your legs to tremble, his hand that rests on the Iron Throne coming down to seize your hip to support you. Your walls clench around his cock tight enough for him to draw in a sharp breath, but the assault on your cunt doesn’t cease. 

“Qilōni gaomagon ao sytilībagon naejot?” Daemon groans, pulling you back onto his cock and fucking you through your peak. Who do you belong to? It’s almost as if he’s asking for your reassurance, wanting to be sure of your feelings for him. 

“A… ao,” you hiccup. “Ik… iksan aōhon.” You. I’m yours.

His peak crashes over him with your reassurance, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your cunt. His hands trail up and down your sides in nothing else than pure bliss, and when it’s all over, he releases a sigh of relief, almost as if the pressure has fallen off his shoulders. 

He cups your arse with both hands, and squeezes your flesh. When he doesn’t make any move to pull out of you, however, it’s clear that he is relishing the way your drenched cunt embraces his flaccid cock.

“No one will make you feel as good as I do, dōna ābrazȳrys, and certainly no Lannister,” he rasps. “He would not know how to handle the Blood of the Dragon. You were made for me, and you belong to me. Always have, always will.” Sweet wife. 

Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #hotd daemon #prince daemon targaryen #daemon fic #daemon smut #daemon imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #daemon stannies #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen x female reader

[toruslvt]

KNIGHT DILUC + FEM! MAID READER

mdni. secret relationship, making out in a storage closet, unprotected sx.

“be quiet and follow me” is what your lover has said, a large hand cupping your elbow before gently but firmly tugging you into the nearest storage room, the grip the man held on your skin only showed how badly Diluc tried to hold himself back. his broad shoulders seemed tense, walking with quick harsh steps yet you could only watch how dashing your boyfriend was, the dark uniform accentuated his large frame and bright red hair, arms bulging under the expensive fabric once he pinned you against the nearest wall.

you waste no time in wrapping your arms around his neck, claiming his lips in a needy desperate clash of tongues where the only sound in the small room was the one of your mouths and heavy breathing, finally allowing you to do what you wished the most since the moment you saw his admirers fawning over your boyfriend. much different from the strong grip you hold on Diluc’s slightly longer hair, his hands seem to be everywhere, tilting your chin up to properly swallow the desperate whimpers coming out of your lips, tracing the contour of your body until they reach your thighs, bunching the fabric of your skirts up enough for his hand to cup the bare flesh of your legs.

“’luc, please” you slur out his name, earning a possessive growl from the man at the touch of his fingertips against your wetness.

“you’re not wearing panties” Diluc rasps, swallowing thickly for a second as his chest heaves from pent up frustration.

“if you didn’t come for me, I would have gone to see you at the training grounds” you breathe. a string of curses muttered under his breath before Diluc is quick to pin you up against the wall, making your legs wrap around his waist.

“remember to be quiet” he huffs, a metallic sound echoing from where Diluc placed his sword against the wall, undoing a couple of buttons off the fancy jacket, decorated by several medals and awards, followed by the white shirt and soon his pants were pushed down enough for his hard cock to spring free, “or else i’ll have to keep your mouth busy”

“how do you plan on doing that?” you smirk, teasingly, playing with the collar of his shirt, meeting his gaze the moment his eyes rise up, dark with lust and a hint of mischief. Diluc doesn’t need words, choosing instead to slide a single finger across the silky fabric of his tie, a silent warning of a pleasurable punishment you knew well.

“behave” is the last thing he mutters, followed by a groan when the tips of his fingers find the wetness of your cunt, slick clinging to his digits where he barely touched you.

“Diluc, don’t tease” you pout, spreading the tender folds of your pussy for your lover’s eyes, who in return gulps loudly, entranced by the cute way your needy hole seemed to flutter around nothing, his fingers are quick on your clit, pressing and rubbing for your body to shake and whimper while your slickness grew.

“do you want me to fuck you?” he asks in a hoarse voice, dipping a single finger inside the warmth of your pussy before curling and rubbing against your walls, a smirk or satisfaction plastered on his handsome features at the desperate nod of your head, quickly replacing his finger with the engorged tip of his cock. he pushed slowly but steadily, finding your g-spot with mastered expertise and repeatedly slamming against it, with deep thrusts filling your pussy. “so beautiful, you’re so beautiful” Diluc groans, pushing your hips up and forcefully spreading your thighs wider, growling when your cunt seemed to suck him deeper, clinging to his cock at the new angle, plunging and fucking your insides as you cried out.

“oh, god!” you half scream, quickly quieted by Diluc’s thumb sliding across your tongue as his hips mercilessly continue to assault your pussy, not able to resist the shudder running through his body, and pace increasing inhumanly faster.

“you’re close” he speaks, matter of fact, well aware of the slight shake of your body, “cum” he breathes out, burying himself to the hilt to push you over the edge, loving how you drool around his thumb and convulse around his cock; the feeling of your warm pussy clinging and pulsing around his length is enough for Diluc to groan and cum deep inside of you, tiny thrusts given into your oversensitive walls as to fuck his seed deeper inside. leaving a last kiss on your puffy lips Diluc whispers, “you’ll finish your duties like a good girl and find me tonight in the stables, understood?” and he’s gone, uniform as pristine as ever, sword carefully held in its place except for the lack of the silky tie currently tucked in your uniform pocket.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc smut #genshin impact diluc smut #diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr smut #𐔌᭥ᩙ༉

[stairain]

Double-Edged Sword

The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, strap-on (he’s wearing it!), vibrator, riding, crying, slapping, erectile dysfunction, female orgasm, male orgasm, degradation, self-doubt. 

WC: 1.6K

The poor man was already in tears by the time you had buckled him into the harness. Weak pleads for you to show some semblance of mercy as you pull the dark leather tight against his trembling thighs. 

“Please, please ‘m sorry.” 

Spencer cries out as he shamefully looks down at the strap-on that’s replaced his own aching cock. He’d been bad, of course, but this was pure cruelty. 

Ignoring his pleads, you wrap your lips around the head of the fake cock, the cold silicone shining against the wet buds of your tongue.

His eyebrows furrow in envy, wishing to replace the toy instead of the vice versa he's found himself in. 

"Please, it's not fair.."

Spencer's voice trails off as you shamelessly stroke the dildo as if it were real. Using your circled fist, you wet the toy with a droplet of your spit and jerk it off.

And despite his envy, he wishes so desperately that he could get hard. You’d locked his poor cock in a wretched metal cage, the cold silver bars preventing him from reaching even half mast. 

His thighs tremble from around your head, and you coo pitifully at him, your hand still torturously wrapped around the strap. 

“Poor thing, sit down, will you?”

Your voice beckons to him, raising your chin a bit as you gently push him back until his legs hit the bed frame. 

With a frustrated huff, he sits down against the soft comforter as you climbs atop him. His eyes shine with tears and pleas for you to stop whatever this punishment is.

The pupils reading apologies and lines of ‘I learned my lesson’ that you had no interest in. 

Pulling your panties to the side, you rub the sensitive bud of your clit over the artificial head of the cock that was everything but him. 

“Can you feel how wet I am?”

You taunt, looking Spencer right in those sad eyes filled with betrayal and jealousy. With your lips parted in soft sighs, you reach past him to retrieve the box that had contained the strap-on.

Your hand rustles in the cardboard for a moment, before you pull out a small controller no larger than your palm. Spencer swallowed thickly and tried to reason with you one last time.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.. Please just—“

A loud buzzing cuts him off, and his words plummet into a strained whine. Throwing his head back, a few tears run down his temples. 

As you grind your soaked folds against the tip, the double-sided toy was pressed right against the thin bars of his chastity cage. 

Spencer’s thighs squeezed together as the pain of not being able to get hard and the constant whirring of the vibrator quickly overwhelmed him. 

He lets out a slacked-jaw moan as the metal against his shaft shakes as frantically as his body. And you relish in the sight as you sink down onto thick, hard silicone.

You lean into the crook of his neck and press wet kisses against the sweaty skin, beginning to lift yourself up and down in his lap.

“You feel so good, Spence.”

You whisper in his ear, and he’s quick to turn his head away from you in the same kind of bratty manner that got him into this situation in the first place. 

He’s breathing heavily out of his nose, trying his hardest not to make any more noises. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wished it was him you were riding so fervently. 

You hadn’t fucked him like this in a while, his chest ached slightly at the thought. Your drenched cunt greedily swallowing the whole toy in ways that he couldn’t help but tear up in envy over.

He missed when it was his cock that was being coated in that slick layer of white that you so easily granted to a stupid toy. 

The brunet was snapped out of his jealous fantasy when you’re turning up the vibration on his toy. His eyes involuntarily roll into the back of his skull and his mouth can’t help but unhinge to let out a loud whimper. 

The fake cock was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that only Spencer was allowed to find, and you grin evilly as you grab his loose jaw and force him to look at you. 

You’re just as sweaty as he is, but your eyes aren’t filled with remorse like his are. 

“See what happens when you act out?”

You rhetorically ask before you slap him across his already red cheeks. His head quickly turns with the force, and he lets out a quiet gasp. 

Grabbing his jaw again, you’re quick to reprimand him once more.

“Thinking you can misbehave and still get what you want.”

You slap his face in the opposite direction and feel the tracks of tears that coat his face. 

As you circle your hips and ride the strap even faster, all it takes is one look and he knows you’re close. He shakes his head and tries to speak, but he just can’t.

He doesn’t want a toy to make you finish, that should be him. It should be his cock that you’re grinding so hard on, his length that you should be tightening around, and his tip that should be stamping into your spot. 

But instead, he’s forced to watch with a flaccid cock and heavy balls as you throw your head back and cum around slickened silicone.

Your release leaks around the dildo and onto his thighs, and that’s the only semblance of your pleasure he’s been allowed to feel. As your slick drips down his skin, tears stream down his face. 

And that stupid vibrator underneath his cock is unrelenting, he’s so turned on but can’t do a thing about it. 

With a heaving chest and lowered eyelids, you lift yourself up off his lap.

The toy bobs with the freedom from your cunt and dribbles with the pleasure of your orgasm. 

Spencer’s absolutely breathless as you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him. Strands of his hair stick to his face, and he can barely muster up the courage to look you in the eye.

Your face is a blur to him as you lick up your release from the fake cock, wrapping your wet lips around the shaft and swallowing your own slick. 

With a whimper, he closes his eyes and prays for this to be over. You’ve made your point, he’s easily replaceable, he needs to get his shit together.

But you’re not nearly done with him, not as you’re undoing the straps of leather as you suck off his replacement. 

You release the harness from his body and let it drop to the floor. The incessant buzzing from the toy still ringing in the air, taunting him.

The dual purpose toy had given everything to you, and he’d gotten nothing out of it. He was nothing without you, and you could have everything without him. 

Spencer’s head is clouded with sexual frustration and self disgust alike as you make quick work of fetching the key to his dear chastity cage. 

Twisting the small key into the lock, the cage becomes undone and you pull it off of him. 

But even as you discard the contraption, his soft cock lay before you in a pathetic display of uselessness. 

With gentle hands, you reach out to cup his small bulge. There’s a sick smile on your face as you pour up at him. 

“Look at you.. How could you have ever made me feel as good as that toy did?”

He huffs and tries his best to reason with you. He was certain he was better than that toy, he just couldn’t prove it. 

“I can.”

He says matter of factly, but as you nestle his lack of erection, he’s proven himself inferior. There’s an excuse dying on the tip of his tongue the moment he gets distracted by the soft caresses you deal to his flaccid length. 

It feels so good, but he simply couldn’t get hard. The cage had rendered him useless for your pleasures.

“It’s okay, Spence. We can just use the strap from now on..”

You softly murmur as you run your thumb against the soft head of his cock. The pathetic little thing leaks a drop of sticky precum, and you swirl it around as you can physically feel his refusal to your suggestion. 

“N-No. I’m better than that thing, please..”

He whines gently, having been broken down by whatever mind games you’ve played with him. 

Maybe the toy was better than him. At least it stayed hard, and at least it wasn’t about to cum from just a few soft touches. 

There’s a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, and a tingling in his pathetic little cock that he simply can’t ignore. 

Spencer tries his absolute hardest to hold out, but before you’ve even got a chance to rebuttal his pleads, a shaky moan forces its way from his throat as he spills over your thumb and pointer finger. 

As hot droplets of cum coat your fingers, you sigh almost disappointingly and watch as his release covers his soft length. 

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry.” 

He pitifully whispers as his entire body trembles with the aftershocks of a sorry excuse for an orgasm. 

The toy that resides the role of his rival mocks him. Vibrating gently against the wooden floors that his sticky ribbons drip onto. 

You stand up slowly and press a kiss against his tear stained cheek, knowing that he’d be on his best behavior from here on out.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

[bby-deerling]

Omg i need to read something where law gets jealous (there’s too much pining/tension) because I dont see it enough!!!! who is it x law pretty pleaseeee or I’ll take any similar recommendation 😩💛

thank you galaxy brained anon for this request!!!!!!! happy laws fingers friday for those who celebrate (posting this at 11:59 it still counts)!

law + who is it (nsfw, afab!reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.6k masterlist

cw: jealousy, oral sex (law receiving), pining and yearning, law is an idiot sometimes, no pronouns used but reader is loosely implied to be wearing a kimono (or something else easy access)

Grip harsh on the sheath of his sword, Trafalgar Law was more than eager for this festival to be over so he could be done with this alliance and leave Wano behind forever.  Selfishly, the throbbing of his head from Luffy and Kid’s antics and his palpable frustration at the chaos that surrounded them paled in comparison to the pain from the twisted green thorns impaling his heart as he lurked in the shadows, eavesdropping on Kid making his move on you.

It wasn’t the first time either—both Kid and Killer had taken an interest in you on the docks last night.  Despite your rejection of their brazen advances, the sight was enough to make Law storm back aboard the Polar Tang and nearly claw his own eyes out, frustrated at the way the feelings he harbored for you were causing him to become completely unglued and far removed from his usual, collected self.

By no means did you belong to him, other than as a subordinate and a close friend, but the reality of the situation did nothing to soothe the possessiveness boiling in his veins.  He had spent years pining over you, engaging in a delicate back and forth of pushing the envelope with you, and prior to recent events, he thought these crumbs of affection and teasing would be enough for him to subsist on.  Relationships were tricky work, especially at sea where one’s life is a string, constantly dangling between the blades of a pair of scissors and ready to be cut short at a moment’s notice; in truth, Law had never experienced feelings like these before and wasn’t sure he knew how to be in a relationship, but seeing the tentative, unlabeled connection between you become threatened by that hot-headed brute made his brain go haywire.

Soft yellow light from the lanterns illuminating the street frames your face; you were as gorgeous tonight as you were any other, eyes shining bright with the mischief and sharp wit that he adored, and Law finds himself getting lost in your face until the harsh, unpleasant rumble of Kid’s voice reaches his eardrums.

“What’s your deal?  Got anyone you’re fooling around with?” Kid asks you, lips curled into a sneer as he eyes you up and down.

You shake your head.  “Nope, but if I did, they’d probably have eyebrows.” you tease, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall behind you. 

Law watches cautiously, prepared for an explosion from the emotionally immature giant who hated nothing more than to be poked fun at.  Surprisingly, Kid simply chuckles and continues to banter with you, making Law grit his teeth in annoyance.

“But you’ve got someone you’re waiting around for, don’t you?  You wouldn’t be playing so hard to get with me if you weren’t holding out for someone else.” he says, taking a step forward and placing his good hand on the wall behind you.

You roll your eyes—Law hopes it’s because you’re annoyed at the presumption that you were playing hard to get in the first place. “Why do you care so much about what’s going on with me?”

“Because I think you can do better than Trafalgar.  Don’t you think he’s compensating for something with that sword?” Kid teases; you wince at the chill of his metal finger tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“And you aren’t?” you ask, moving your face out of his grip and tapping his prosthetic arm.  “The way to my heart isn’t by speaking poorly about Law.”

Not directly having told him to buzz off yet, Kid continues to take your resistance as a challenge.  “Fine.  He’s not worth the breath anyways.  Let’s talk about you instead.  You’re smoking hot, and Killer and I want to show you what a good time looks like with real pirates worth their salt.  Simple as that.”  The look on your face is difficult to read at a distance, and Law’s heartbeat quickly starts to get out of control, mind spiraling at the possibility that you were even remotely considering the offer.

A passerby lingers in Law’s line of sight and blocks his view, and he’s overcome by dread; blood running cold, he feels damned and wretched as he desperately cranes his neck to try to get a glimpse of you.  All he can see is Kid’s head leaning in closer to your face, and he finally snaps and allows himself to act on impulse, running into a nearby alley and bringing you towards him with a whisper of the word shambles.

His rational mind immediately regrets his decision to not think things through further and formulate a plan.   Using his devil fruit to pull you away from Kid confirmed that Law was weak for you—something that could be used as ammunition against him later if your crews met again on less peaceful terms.  More urgently, Law was not in any way emotionally prepared to have the conversation that he had summoned you here for, all of his words drying up on his tongue as he watches you adjust to your new surroundings and stare at him with wide-eyed gratitude.

His stuttering heartbeat quickens to the point of hurting as you throw your arms around him and bury your head into his chest. “Thanks for getting me out of that, Law.  You know how I freeze up when I get uncomfortable.” you mumble, glad to be free from Kid caging you against the wall and propositioning you.

Drowning in the feeling of you pressed against him, he holds you tight and allows his head to rest on top of yours.  The silence that settles in the air as you squeeze him lasts long enough for him to form a tentative plan of his next few moves to gently tell you how he feels—a plan that completely falls apart when you break the embrace and trace your fingers along the sheath of Kikoku.

“So, Captain,” you murmur with a teasing smile, “is it true you’re compensating for something?”  Law swallows hard, knowing you’re simply messing around, but something about hearing Kid’s words echoed back at him spurs him to act.  Blood running hot with irritation, envy, and lust, he can’t help but revert to acting on impulse.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and find out?” he shoots back without thinking, crossing his arms as he leans back.

“Out here?” you choke out, face burning; Law doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub against each other, confidence rising with the knowledge that you were craving him too.

“If you want me in my bed too, I can indulge you later.” he replies.  He watches your reaction carefully; for a moment he considers stopping here and playing this off as a bit and pushing things off to another day as he always did, but his heart catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and gaze up at him expectantly.

He shoots you a look to confirm you’re serious—an affirmative nod is all it takes for him to unbutton his jeans and free his cock.  You inhale sharply at the sight; he’s long with medium girth, and truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how you were going to fit all of him down your throat.

“Satisfied?” he taunts, amused at your reaction and staring down at you with darkened eyes.

“Very.” you reply, reaching one of your hands up to stroke him experimentally, softly sighing at the sinful sight of him in your grasp.

Law lets out a quiet groan as you stroke him, mind abuzz at the sensation, but still unable to curb his smart mouth.  “Quit staring and suck it, then.” he rasps, dragging his thumb down your cheek.  A chuckle escapes your lips as you take him in your mouth; he gasps at how warm and wet you are around his cock, and his hand tangles itself in your hair, desperate to feel as much of you at once as he can.

He guides your head but doesn’t push, letting you adjust to his length at your own pace.  Your hand pumps him at an even rhythm, timed with the circular drag of your tongue along his shaft as you bob your head.  Lewd chokes and muffled gasps fill the air as you take more of him in your mouth; the sounds you make are heavenly enough to make him want to lose control, but he holds out, wanting to feel every bit of what you had to give him.

“You’re taking me so good.” he praises; you moan softly in reply and swipe your tongue along his tip as your head retracts, making his breath hitch.  Shameless and messy, your thigh twitches as your drool splatters across it; your pupils are blown out with lust, and Law runs his thumb along your jawline reassuringly as you sharply inhale and take him as far as you can, head of his cock dipping down into your throat.

“Fuck, you feel good.  Just for me...” he whimpers, legs beginning to tremble as he feels himself getting close.  The sight of your doe-eyes staring up at him, tears running down your cheeks from your choking and spit in your hair is enough to make him spill down your throat, breathing ragged as waves of ecstasy take over his body, making him a slave to the pleasure you’re supplying him.  As he comes down from his high and catches his breath, the smile you give him is dripping with pride, and nearly springs his cock into action all over again.

“C’mere.” he purrs, pulling you to your feet and capturing your lips with his own as he pins you against the wall.  Inked fingers creep up your legs and rub circles into your inner thighs as his tongue pushes into your mouth, desperate to deepen the kiss. Pushing your panties to the side, he swipes two fingers along your slit, making you gasp and leaving him smirking at how wet you were for him.

“Your turn.  I’ve got to prove I’m worth my salt, after all.”

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x you #law x y/n #one piece smut #mdni #x reader #im counting this as laws fingers friday

[13rurururi]

♡ミ Married Life with Husband! Haganezuka Hotaru (Haganezuka x Reader SFW)

featuring six moments that will make you fall in love with him all over again

Pairing: Haganezuka Hotaru x Female!Reader

Content: SFW (but there's one suggestive line), fluff, domestic life, etc.

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is a surprisingly doting lover who is never ashamed to let the world know about your love-filled union.

"My wife—"

At Hotaru's 16th use of the word 'wife,' Kotetsu begins to feel his thoughts blur into anything but the unending spew of Haganezuka's wife-related stories. The young boy feels grateful that the hard-headed smith found a life partner; however, Kotetsu's patience is falling short, and he definitely does not want to know about your 10-month anniversary dinner.

Kotetsu feels a brief sigh of relief against his mask when Kanamori strolls inside the quiet teahouse. "Ah, Haganezuka-san and Kotetsu-shounen!"

Kotetsu sees Haganezuka swivel his head to face his younger colleague, and without missing a beat, he uses 'wife' for the 17th time in that very hour.

"My wife's birthday is coming up. She keeps telling me not to get her anything, but I'll be damned if I don't." Haganezuka regards Kanamori with a short nod.

"Oh, my En-chan says the same! Regardless, I'll gift her at least a bouquet of flowers. Just this other day, I came home to give her a—"

At this point, the two men were in a whole new dimension, exchanging stories about their married life. Kotetsu once again begrudgingly thanks the heavens for allowing Haganezuka to be passionate about something other than swords, but he feels himself sink onto the table as he thinks,

"There are two of them now..."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA never fails to come home to you with a gift in hand, letting you know that you are always on his mind, no matter how hectic the forge gets.

"Here," he firmly places a haphazardly wrapped present on your palms. Your body jolts at the sudden weight on your arms, and you blink up at him in curiosity. "Open it."

"Hotaru," you cutely drawl out the last syllable of his name with a pout, shaking your head at your husband's stubbornness. Your lover is a gift-giver; after all, he is a maker of many marvelous blades and trinkets. In the earlier months of your relationship, he would court you with handmade jewelry, even if you bashfully tried to tell him that you'd appreciate even just simple quality time.

Lightly blushing from the adorable glint in your eye, he repeats himself, "Open it." You do just that, and you find yourself faintly gasp in wonder at a welded flower with the most intricate design he's done yet. It's made entirely out of shiny steel, reflecting your mesmerized expression on the metallic petals as you softly caressed the pattern on the leaves.

"Flowers die too quickly," he purses his lips — a mannerism he does whenever he feels shy — and turns his body to the side. "This one should last forever."

At a loss for words, you opt to kiss him meaningfully on his his blushing cheek. "I love it."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is still as stubborn as ever. He sometimes overworks his muscles until they are cramped and tense, so you — his beloved — offer to alleviate his pains with a soothing massage. He loves it.

You see Haganezuka roll his shoulders for the 5th time that morning. The crinkle of his brows seems to furrow deeper in silent aggravation.

Silently sighing, you embrace him from behind, letting your palms press firmly on his broad shoulders. This makes him groan in a mix of pain and relief, confirming that he is under discomfort.

"You never tell me when you're hurting," your breath is against his back, and you continue to massage his hard muscles.

"It's nothing that'll drag me away from smithing." His prideful quip makes you lightly slap his shoulder in annoyance, and it only makes him bark out a chuckle.

"Let me take care of you, okay?" You tip his head towards yours and bat your eyes in an attempt to persuade him. "Let's get you to bed."

Hotaru merely huffs as his lips form a suggestive smirk. "Fine, but you know I'd want to take care of you, too, my love."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA will never want to prolong your arguments and misunderstandings. He may be a prideful and headstrong man, but he acknowledges your side and your feelings, even if a little begrudgingly.

The moment your husband raises his voice at you, you turn away and head to a separate room, urging yourself to regain composure as you blink away your tears.

You're aware that he doesn't mean any harm with his gruff shouts — it's more of a habit he developed due to his social ineptitude — but you can get caught up in a flurry of petty disagreements and feel saddened by his misdirected rage.

Knock, knock, knock.

You hear knuckles softly knock on the thin wooden door of your shared bedroom. Muttering a soft 'come in,' you wipe the residual tears from your face while Hotaru stalks towards you and joins you on your Western-style bed.

"I'm sorry," he exhales through his nose as he hesitantly wraps an arm around you. To his relief, you completed the embrace and snuggled close to his chest. "You're right. I shouldn't have gotten so angry at the vendor, even if he did look at you for far too long—"

"Hotaru," you cut him off in a scolding tone. "Having you beside me is enough to ward off any danger."

You gaze deeply into each others' eyes. "Just stay by my side, and we'll be fine." You softly kiss his parted lips.

Hotaru only sighs one more time. "Okay."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is protective, and his concern for your safety is immeasurable and genuine. He'll cease his work and come join you if you wish to go somewhere during the evening. You'll never feel lonely with him as your lover.

"Where are you heading?"

You feel yourself faintly jump at the sound of your husband's voice. You gaze at him as he shifts from his usual spot in the forge, a half-finished katana laying behind him.

He's been engulfed in his craft for the past 3 hours, staying completely silent and diligently focused on smithing; you simply didn't expect him to do anything else for the next few hours.

"I just want to walk outside for a while," you begin to open the sliding door to exit, but your movements are ceased when you see Haganezuka fully stand up from his station and walk towards you.

"Darling, you still have a sword to finish—"

"It's nearly nighttime. Don't be stupid." You try to protest but he stays rooted by your side. "I'm not leaving you alone."

With a bemused huff, you find yourself smile at the bulky masked man walking next to you.

You definitely feel much safer with Hotaru.

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA never leaves your home or sleeps without telling you he loves you. He shows it through his actions, but he regards the simple words as devoted declarations he will never forget to remind you of.

Haganezuka rises from slumber before the sun even fully peaks through the valley. It's part of his dedication to his duties as a swordsmith — the only downside is how he barely gets to spend slow mornings with you.

After firmly wrapping his scarf over his head, he stares at your sleeping figure behind his Hyottoko mask, and he feels nothing but rampant swirls of adoration and love.

He sits down next to you, his weight causing you to stir in your sleep. Lifting his battered and calloused palm towards your cheek, he caresses you softly with a smile behind his mask.

"I love you, and I cannot imagine a world without you." He adjusts his mask and kisses your forehead. "I love you."

Before he can entirely leave the bed, he feels your gentle grip tug on his arm. He looks at your smiling, half-asleep face as you whisper,

"I love you, too, Hotaru." You beckon him for another kiss, and he dips down to do just that.

At that moment, Haganezuka was certain — there won't ever be a life where you wouldn't be reborn as each others' lovers. He swears in his heart that he shall always be yours, as long as you allow him to be.

a/n: I miss Haganezuka a lot. Have some domestic fluff of him! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! ☆

#haganezuka x reader #hotaru haganezuka x reader #haganezuka x you #haganezuka x y/n #kny haganezuka #demon slayer haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x you #kny x reader #kny x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #haganezuka hotaru x you #haganezuka hotaru x reader #haganezuka hotaru #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny imagines #kny season 3 #swordsmith village arc #demon slayer season 3

[targaryenluvs]

YOURS TRULY

pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.

warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications

a/n: look who decided to write again!

Icons not mine, credits to the owner!

it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.

by his side.

at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.

because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.

“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.

there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.

but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?

over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.

everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.

but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.

“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.

it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.

“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.

“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”

percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”

“bet i could catch her before you.”

“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’

“you wanna bet?”

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”

“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.

“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”

as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.

#percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x fem!reader #yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #yandere luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #dark!luke castellan x reader

[estell-allary]

APHRODITE’S BANE

Relationship:romantic

Pairing:Clarisse La Rue x fem!aphrodite!reader

Warnings:fighting,mentions of blood,reader getting injured,swearing pls tell me if I missed any<3

A/N-this is my first time writing,also this is just a fluff about Clarisse and you loving each other AND you are like the past Aphrodite the fighter and warrior that she truly is,not this soft weakling that people preseve she is just because she is the graceful goddess of love~(it is also 00:30am and this is heavily inspired by the song Salvatore by Lana)

Shocked.That’s what you would say you (and most of camp half-blood) were when you found out that your mother-Aphrodite-claimed you,especially in the middle of capture the flag! No it’s not because you’re not pretty-hell your one of the prettiest girls in chb,but because everyone was sure you would be claimed by ares or even Athena.

Everyone had no doubts to you being one of there children because you were strong,quick witted, intelligent and understanding you also had an undying loyalty towards the ones you loved, but after you were claimed people started to relate you to your mother more-or well who your mother used to be,Aphrodite Areia.

When you were unclaimed you would hang out with the ares kids and a few other people,but there was only(not even)a hand full of people you talked to in the Aphrodite cabin-them being piper,livia,Valentina and silena

I mean you were only claimed a few weeks after you arrived at camp half-blood that being in that years game of capture the flag..that’s also when you met her.Clarisse La Rue,honestly you didn’t really think of her to be all that before the incident,sure people told you to stear clear of her because she was a bully and would not hesitate to flush your head down a toilet,but you just saw her as a normal teenager who had anger issues.

You’ve only been at camp half-blood for 3 weeks and the date of capture the flag was today,everyone has been preparing and training extra hard for a few days now and you still haven’t even found out who your godly parent is yet,tho everyone’s already assumed who they are,ares or Athena,because your a natural for sword fighting and one on one combat or because you are wise and patient-most of the time.

You were placed on the blue team with the hermes cabin until your claimed same goes with the rest of the unclaimed kids,Chiron did his speach and then the red team let out this loud monstrous war cry that made you flinch,“um Luke,is that normal”you asked in a hushed voice to the black haired boy that was standing next to you “yep,they do it every year,don’t worry you’ll get used to it”he pated you on the shoulder biding you goodbye as the blue team departed.

Stumbling through the woods trying to get to your spot was..difficult to say the least let’s just say you got lost a few times,when you finally get there you lean back against a rock,it was smooth and rough at the same time,just right.You could feel the sun levitating off of your now warm skin,this was sure to give you a light tan.

‘Catch me if you can,working on my tan Salvatore’

You heard a twig snap behind you and you quickly jumped up and grabbed your sword,turning around to see no one,“hello?..”you said confused but keeping up your fighting stance “annabeth?..Luke?” You called out knowing annabeth was close by but Luke wasn’t you were just confused…that was until you got tackled to the floor by non other then..someone? it was a boy and he smelt vile but you had no time to think about that before you panicked and slashed your sword at the side of his amour and flipped him off of you before quickly getting up and taking a step back.

He lunged up and swung at you but you quickly dodged and bolted for the woods, running,in hopes he would head for the flag instead of following you,but he didn’t..it was strange he was going after you and not the flag, “ow!shit!” You cried out as you were tackled to the floor again this time with him stabbing at your amour.

You pushed yourself backwards and kicked him in the stomach sending him back a few meters,you jumped up again and so did he this time you lunged at him stabbing at his chest but he kicked your legs out from under you and pushed you back making you fall of a small ledge and land on the small,damp rocks of the beach.

‘Dying by the hand,of a foreign man,happily’

He jumped down on to you and held his sword to your neck,he was about to open his mouth to say something but you kicked him in the shin making him fall and his sword pierce your skin,not enough to properly injure you but just enough to draw blood,he yelled out as he hit the damp rocks “ah!you bitch!”you both got up again and started clashing your swords together “why the hell are you still trying to fight me!”you grunted out.

Before he could respond you heard yelling and both the blue and red team came running out the woods the blue team with the red flag,the person holding it was annabeth but she faltered for a few seconds seeing that you were is a fight.

Then you caught her eye,for the first time you both looked at each other and gods she was gorgeous.Clarisse La Rue.

But you got distracted.“HEY!”luke yelled out as the boy stabbed with full force at your chest.

‘Calling out my name in the summer rain,ciao,amore’

You huffed out a breath,gasping for air as you grabbed the end of his sword cutting your palm and two of your fingers but kept your grip on it strong,you raised your foot and kicked the boy in the stomach making him stumble and lose his grasp on the sword.You threw the sword into the water and just as he was about to punch you,you grabbed his fist and flipped over above him landing behind him (thank god for you being able to do gymnastics)

Just as annabeth got the red flag to the post you punched him in the back making him fall on his front and he stayed down..OH GOD YOU KNOCKED HIM OUT!!

You looked up panicked and everyone was staring looking shocked at yo-..wait why were they looking above you?You looked up and gasped,

“Wha-?”

Suddenly you were tackled into a hug by silena who was laughing “oh my god” you heard annabeth say,your gaze went from Silena to Annabeth to Clarisse..she was looking at you with a puzzled expression before saying the thing that everyone was thinking, “how the fuck are you a daughter of Aphrodite?”she said your eyes grew wide before you furrowed your brows “HEY!are you calling me ugly!?”you yelled out looking offended even tho you were thinking the same thing.

“Well no bu-!”Clarisse started before she was interrupted by Chiron “Aphrodite areia..you take after your mother’s original origins from being a warrior”he said with a kind smile on his face.

“Well that’s enough for today everyone go get some rest get fixed up and carry on with your day!”Chiron declared.

A/N:sorry that there was like no Clarisse x reader in this I promise there will be way more in my next one this one was just a tester btw😃

#Spotify #lana del rey #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue #pjo series #clarisse x reader #aphrodite #aphrodite!reader

[libbyfandom]

“The Dove is just as Cunning as the Demon”

‘Need to get out of the chains. Get my sword. Grab dove. Find a way out. Chains, sword, dove, get out.’

Mizu eyes the guard to her right that’s holding her sword and pulling you along as the one that’s dragging her leads her to a back room. Taigen is swearing a storm as he’s dragged behind her by two more guards.

At least Ringo wasn’t captured. He was still thankfully waiting back at camp. If he even knew of this he would have come running to her side, further complicating escaping.

She winces, growling in frustration as the guard yanks her shackled arms further up her back as he drags her, feeling the muscles in her shoulders scream in protest.

She knew you three weren’t running fast enough after her and Taigen got into a sword fight with others at the inn. You were swarmed right out the city gates.

She would have kept fighting if one of them hadn’t held a knife to your throat.

They toss her and Taigen into the room. She catches herself on one knee, glaring over her shoulder at the men as Taigen struggles to his feet.

“Ah-“ one of the guards tsks when Taigen stands, holding her sword to your throat where he has your back restrained to his chest. You’re shaking, craning your neck as far back from the familiar steel as possible. His hand follows still, pressing the steel in until the tiniest stinging slit cuts through, a drop of blood rolling down your neck.

Mizu clenches her jaw against the familiar flames of rage licking at the corners of her focus, desperate to take over. She slowly turns with unblinking, predator like focus on where the man’s hand is. Where it temporarily is attached to his body.

“Taigen.”

He’s breathing raggedly through his nose, eyes sharp on the guards. But at her word he glances at her once, before begrudgingly lowering himself to a sitting position like her.

‘Chains. Sword. Dove. Detach hand. Get out.’

“I see the demon is in charge.”

“He is not in charge of me!” Taigen glowers from the floor.

The guard lowers the sword, heaving you up beside him. “You two wait here, we will come when the hanging executioner is ready for you.”

He lowers his face to stare at Mizu’s dark expression, his lips curling with a malicious satisfaction. “I do love watching a dishonorable swordsman’s neck snap from the drop.”

“No!” You crumple against the guard holding you captive, making him stumble a moment before he wretched you back upright from where you’ve collapsed to the floor.

Her eyes dart for every detail of the guards. Only single sword wielders, no archery weapons in hand. Safe after getting out of range. Simple, foot-soldier armor. Only powerful in numbers. Captain can’t be bribed, he’s holding too much pleasure at getting to kill them. She turns her attention to the room. Furnishings similar to normal houses. This place is not designed to hold prisoners. No windows, but that could mean…

She spots the rafter leading into the next room. An easy way out without being spotted on the floor, but she needs a way out of these chains once the guards leave, and quickly. Until she’s out of these shackles and has you in sight this needs to be silent, or risk your safety. Her stomach is tightening as she knows there’s about to be who knows how many minutes between when she escapes and when she finds you. The unknown of what these guards could do (she knows what men do) is leaving a rock in her stomach that she now needs to ignore to figure a way-

You suddenly fling yourself into her lap, cupping her cheek and pressing your mouth into hers, hard. Her eyes fly open, everything in the room halting to silence. Even the two guards near the door glance at each other with uncomfortable confusion. Taigen’s giving you two the most judgmental side eye mixed with disbelief.

She tried to flinch away on instinct at the sudden action, but your lips follow hers. Your tongue pried her mouth open, and she almost kicks you off because DOVE. RIGHT NOW?! NOT THE PLACE OR TIME.

She feels a smooth weight fall into her mouth, and her throat closes up instinctually to not swallow it.

You’re ripped away from her, half dragged half carried out the door. You flash her a certain look as you’re taken away, before going back to flailing and hitting the guard. She keeps her lips clenched tight, glaring at them as they leave. When the last guard shuts the door Taigen turns to her. “You can’t even say anything? You know what they’re going to do-“

He falls into stunned silence when the shackles key slips out of her mouth, clenched between her teeth.

“Holy shit…” he murmurs. Shaking his head back into the moment, he quickly shuffles over and turns his back to her so she can spit the key into his bound hands.

Mizu’s eyes slide back toward the door.

“I fucking love that woman.”

Chains gone.

Grab Sword.

Detach hand.

Tune out screaming.

Throw a giggling dove over shoulder.

Kick down door.

Run off into the night.

….

Remember to tell dove how clever that was.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons

A/n: So, I'm going o invest more content on my favorite captains of bc because they're hot , badass and deserve all world's attention. Here's some sfw/nsfw headcanons for them✨️

Tw: Nsfw content

_____________________________

Yami :

Sfw

He's super protective of you and that's something he doesn't hide. If any man messes with you (even if you are strong), that guy is officially dead.

You are the only person he allows to pick up his sword and use it on a battle. He trusts you so take good care of his katana because this man is broke and can't afford a new one.

He also likes to go out with you and take you out drinking or playing cards. If you win a bet against him, be prepared because he won't give up until he wins... or until he falls asleep from drinking. He's a terrible gambler but he refuses to accept that.

You usually train together and he likes to see you push your limits. He also likes it when you go on a mission with him so he can see this. He's proud of you and your power.

If he's having another one of his daily battles in the bathroom, you'll be the only one who can come in and give him the toilet paper he's missing because Asta forgot to change it.

(Asta run for your life)

Nsfw

I don't need to tell you that this man is rough and will surpass his limits in the sheets. Good luck to you and goodbye legs.

He loves being between your legs, devouring you and tasting everything you have to give him, probably even getting "drunk" on your juices.

He likes to see you squirm beneath him, the marks he left on you covering your skin (Yes, he really leaves a lot of marks on you), your eyes rolling and your voice calling him so well. Poor bed and poor other members who will listen to you all night

His hands will be all over your body, a lot of physical contact during the act. He loves it when you run your hands over his body too. You can even scratch his skin and bite, he doesn't feel pain. Only pleasure.

There's a lot of dirty talk.

And don't try to tease him, you don't know the risk you're running. Listen, he has no problem with that thing called public places. He puts you against a wall and does whatever he wants.

Regarding the fact that you can't walk properly, don't worry, he carries you everywhere in his strong arms.

He's just my type fr🤭

William :

Sfw

Super cute and kind to you. He is super careful with you, always giving you those sweet smiles that makes your heart melt.

He always likes to check on you to make sure there's nothing wrong or if you're 100% fine.

He's shy and whenever you hold his hand in public or kiss his cheek, his face will heat up from blushing. You just laugh at his cuteness.

He really likes hugs after a long day of work, he feels like you calm his heart and give him good energy.

He's fallen for you since the day you traced his scar with your fingers softly and told him how beautiful he still was. No one had ever done this and he was moved by this affection.

You were proud of him for who he was and not for his appearance and that made him shed little tears.

Nsfw

Do not proceed without your full consent. He wants you to feel good and comfortable.

The touch is soft and delicate, lots of tender kisses on your skin. He doesn't like to leave many marks like Yami, HOWEVER... if you leave some on him, it will cause "things" in him. (It turns him on but he's ashamed to admit it)

I see him being a sub and will let you take over things a lot of the time because he just loves it when you do.

Touch his body, kiss him, take him deep and slow as he likes. This man will have to fight with himself not to come when you ride him and look into his eyes. He goes crazy.

Very gentle with you after the act, always cleaning you and offering you everything you need.

(William, the door to my house is open... you know?🥹👉👈)

Fuegoleon :

Sfw

He is very serious in his role and always wants to have you by his side.

He loves your presence even though he is working hard, and if you help him he will thank you.

He might be a bit like William in the sense that he may be a little shy when you hold his hand or kiss him in public, although he doesn't blush like him.

He always tries to keep you protected and advises you not to talk to Mereoleona too much, he's afraid she'll make fun of him in front of you or drag you to the volcano where she trains.

This woman is dangerous, but having her as a sister-in-law is a gift tbh. She'll beat the shit out of everyone if anyone touches her brother's beautiful girlfriend.

Leo will probably love you because you love and care for his older brother. You two will be great friends.

He likes it when you run your hands gently through his hair when he is resting. This is comfortable and relaxing.

Nsfw

He's the middle ground between going fast when he's feeling excited (after you teased him all day) and going slow and sensual when he comes into the bedroom tired and just wants you to put your arms around him.

He dominates, he likes to be on top, seeing you beneath him arching when his fingers caress you or when he grabs your thighs and thrust you. He lives to see you squirming on the mattress.

He likes to praise you, whispering in your ear how beautiful you are, which gives you goosebumps.

Please run your hands down his back, he loves it and it makes him go deeper.

He hugs and kisses you a lot after he finishes. He is much more relaxed between four walls than in a public place where he hesitates a little with the PDA.

Nozel :

Sfw

Dear, be patient with him. He may be cold to the core but his eyes... they never lie. His look at you is something that many royal ladies who notice him would like to get from him.

He doesn't make long vows of love but look, he's the best with actions and no one will come close to you because he defends you a lot.

Although he and Yami don't get along, they are both overprotective lovers.

Even if you're not from a royal family or something, he won't let anyone discriminate against you for that. That person will disappear without a trace and it's all the work of Nozel fucking Silva.

Serious, but until you give him that little smile that makes him look away in embarrassment. You can see the tips of his ears turning red and you tease him for that.

He ends up smiling for a second and you feel like the luckiest person in the world to witness this event.

Nsfw

Don't underestimate this man, he is a dom and will always show you who is in control. Although I think he has a certain look that he would like you to take control.

Don't fight back, obey. He doesn't accept a no and if you're a brat to him, he'll punish you for it.

If he's having a bad day, he'll probably come to the bedroom to have you in his sheets and relieve himself. Goodbye legs once again...

He will also mark you, he is the only one who can have you and the marks made for him only turns him on.

Not only in the bedroom does he like to see you squirming and calling for him, but also on the office table while he takes a break from work. I don't see him being shy if someone came in but he would probably threaten anyone if they even thought about telling what they saw.

He makes sure you're okay afterwards and will put you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

#black clover #black clover x reader #black clover fandom #yami sukehiro #william vangeance #fuegoleon vermillion #nozel silva #yami sukehiro x reader #william vangeance x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #nozel x reader #black clover headcanons #Headcanons

[theminecraftbee]

(No way to win and nothing to lose.)

It takes fifteen minutes--or, well, honestly more like ten--for them to decide how this is going to end, the two of them.

Maybe it's a bit fatalistic. Most people would take more than a few minutes to decide they're going to die, probably, but Cleo and Etho both, they're realists. So it takes them ten. Technically, it takes Cleo even fewer; it takes them a minute and a half to decide they're going to die in the end, if it means Etho will win, but. Etho won't win. Neither will Cleo. That's the thing they decide over ten minutes.

It takes fifteen for Tango to die, which is why Cleo thought maybe it took fifteen minutes to decide how it was going to end. Before then, hey, maybe he'd come to his senses and team up with them against the massive alliance that's going to kill them all. After, though...

After, Cleo takes Etho to burn down houses.

It's kind of stupid, right? But Etho, he hasn't done much burning of other people's shit before, and Cleo thinks, shit, they're going to die anyway. Making enemies isn't actually a problem. If Etho burns Scar's stupid little trading post down, what's the worst that's going to happen? Scar kills them? Please. All that'd be is stopping Gem or Pearl from doing it. So they burn it down, and Etho laughs, and tells Cleo that he gets why it's so fun, and they revel in the heat.

They run together to Etho's warden pit. Etho talks Cleo through how to do it. They've never wrangled a warden before, but hey--no time like the present, right? And as the great beast starts chasing them, they feel alive. They haven't laughed this hard in--do they know how long? How long?

How long have they been sitting here, counting hearts? Staying away from danger so they don't break them? But those don't matter now. They decided already: they are going to die. There's no other way this will end. So sure, they should be a little careful, but careful is the enemy of a good time, and that's even more important!

What's more important than losing hearts is using the ones you've got, right?

What's more important than broken hearts is that Etho knows how important he is to them, so they tell him.

Bdubs is hilariously angry about it, and Scott is resigned. Cleo beams. They go to find Grian, so that maybe they can steal a tower together after all, just like they were talking about at the beginning of the episode, and listen, Cleo knows better than climbing ladders, than getting too high up, they've learned that lesson, but--

None of this matters now. They already decided they were going to die. To tell the truth, they'd decided that weeks ago, standing in a little gravel building with Etho. They're going to die. They don't particularly want to, of course, but--well, there are things they want even less than dying, so it only makes sense.

It's practical, really. Just knowing there's no chance, and giving up on there being a chance early. It's... nice. No being chased through the woods, terrified. No hunt. No desperate heartbeat. Just the knowledge, deep in their bones, that they've had from the moment Etho looked at them and said: "We're in a bad place, and no one else seems to know."

They don't stop laughing until Etho's knocked off the tower by a stray arrow, and after that, it's a blur of blood, next to Grian until they can't be. Blood and pain and anger.

And in those final moments, silent, bloody, tired, as Scar puts his sword through their throat--

There was only ever one way this would end, they think.

They have no regrets.

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #zombiecleo #a bee fic #ANYWAY. I KNOW THIS IS NOW LIKE THE /FOURTH/ POST I'VE MADE ABOUT THIS. BUT LISTEN. #also the 'they have no regrets' is an intentional echo of a fic i wrote earlier in the season btw. #so anyway. THAT CLETHO HUH.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 12 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.

Divider credit to @saradika

November 4, 1999

At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.

Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.

You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.

Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”

“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”

You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 

“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 

Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 

“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”

You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 

Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?

Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 

Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 

But this feels…different. 

“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 

Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 

“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  

He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 

“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”

Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 

“Ev, I think?”

Shit. 

Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”

You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 

After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”

You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”

Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”

It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 

You hope. 

Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 

Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 

As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 

Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”

Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”

“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”

“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 

There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 

“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 

Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.

“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 

Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 

“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 

“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 

The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 

Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 

“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 

The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 

“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”

He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 

5:46 PM. 

You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.

Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.

Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–

“I’m here!” 

Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.

He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.

“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 

His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”

You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”

He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”

It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”

“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.

Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”

“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”

You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.

“I love you.” 

His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 

You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 

“I love you, too.”

It all happened so quickly. 

One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 

“You really can’t feel that?”

“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”

After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 

And then a nurse rushes in. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”

 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”

The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”

It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 

He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.

“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.

You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.

“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 

Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 

“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.

He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 

As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 

You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”

“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”

Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”

He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”

Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 

But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 

“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”

Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 

Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 

“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”

Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”

Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”

“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”

“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”

“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 

Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”

It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 

“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”

Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”

Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 

Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 

But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 

--

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