#FAMILY PAPER DOLL MONTH!

[fashioninpaper]

FAMILY PAPER DOLL MONTH!

The Ewings of “Dallas” (from a Scandinavian magazine)

#FAMILY PAPER DOLL MONTH! #the Ewings #Larry Hagman as JR Ewing #Patrick Duffy as Bobby Ewing #Linda Gray as Sue Ellen #Victoria Principle as Pamela Barnes #Charlene Tilton as Lucy Ewing #Dallas TV show #the excessive greed of Texas

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #satoru smut

[lostgirlmuseum]

Who the Hell is Daryl?

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 

He was finally going to ask you out.

-----

To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.

The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.

The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 

“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”

He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 

You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 

“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 

His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.

I’m going to marry her someday.

He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.

Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 

After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 

You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.

He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.

“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.

“What’s up?”

“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”

“You got it, Doll.”

“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.

Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.

But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.

Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?

Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.

Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 

You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?

Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful

You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?

Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 

So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?

Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.

Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.

You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.

“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.

“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”

With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.

Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.

Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 

And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 

Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 

“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”

“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 

Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.

“Which friend?”

“Penny.”

So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.

He didn’t move from his bed.

“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.

He couldn’t get himself to respond. 

The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.

“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.

A pause. 

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.

“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”

“Okay…”

He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”

He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.

“Where were you?” He asked.

You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 

“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.

Your eyes widened at his bite.

“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.

“I am!”

“Then who is Daryl?”

“What?”

“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.

“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.

“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.

“Call the number.” You simply said.

“What?” He repeated.

“Take my phone, and call the number.”

Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 

“Go ahead,” you urged.

He pressed the button. 

Ring.

Ring.

Ri—

“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”

“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.

“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”

“P—Penny?” He sputtered.

“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”

“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”

“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.

Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.

“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”

“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.

He gulped.

“I was going to ask you to be with me.”

You tilted your head, not quite understanding.

“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”

“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"

"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.

"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.

He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.

“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.

Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.

A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!

Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh

Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #Bucky miscommunication #Bucky barnes miscommunication #jealous!Bucky #avenger!reader #bucky x avenger!reader

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Geto Suguru x Reader Fanfic Part 1

You sell yourself to a brothel to feed your family and Geto Suguru is in charge of training you to be the perfect submissive sex doll.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment. 

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Geto’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Dubcon. Submission. Extreme humiliation. Voyeurism. Light degradation. Masturbation. Oral sex. Deep throating. Lots of stuff! Divider by @benkeibear!

Your nerves are on fire. Your heart feels like it might burst at any moment. You never dreamed you would end up in a situation like this, but here you are: standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, being appraised by a woman with long silver hair pulled into a braid. She circles you, holding a folded paper fan in one hand, her eyes sharp. 

“I think we can make something pleasing of you,” she says, red lips curling into a smile. 

You exhale. Not sure whether you’re relieved or not. You came here to essentially sell yourself to the Doll House. Your parents died six months ago, leaving you and your four siblings saddled with debt and struggling to survive. As the only adult left in the family, you’ve been working various jobs to try to keep your younger siblings fed, but debt collectors are harassing them. You have to do something. 

The woman with silver hair returns with a thick envelope. When you open it, your eyes bulge. You’ve never seen so much money in your life! You count it as quickly as possible, growing more shocked by the second. 

“Do we have a deal?” the woman asks. 

You look up at her. “I’m worth this much?”

“Oh darling, I’ll get twice as much for you after you’ve been properly trained!”

“Can you make sure this money pays off my parents’ debts? And the rest goes to my siblings?”

The woman nods. “Of course.”

“Alright. It’s a deal,” you say. She steps out of the room and returns with a contract for you to sign. You take the time to read over it carefully. 

It’s a ten year contract, during which time you’ll essentially belong to the Doll House and then whoever they sell your contract to. No one is allowed to do permanent physical harm to you or prevent you from having contact with your loved ones. You have the right to terminate the contract at any time, though you’ll face dire financial consequences if you do so. 

Ten years. It’s a long time, but it’s worth it to pull your family out of poverty. You sign the contract, the silver haired woman takes it, and hands the envelope to another employee. “See that all her family’s debts are settled, and use the rest to set up a monthly stipend for her siblings.”

The employee nods and leaves. The woman leads you deeper into the Doll House, then stops in a large circular room with plush red carpets and velvet-lined furniture. There are fancy polished lamps hanging on the wall, and a heavy perfumed smell in the air. 

“Wait here,” she says. “I’ll see which trainer is available.”

You stand there nervously, alone, after she disappears down a dark hallway. There’s no turning back now. If you break the contract, it would put your siblings in even worse debt. 

But now your mind is focused solely on your trainer. Who is he? Will he be kind or cruel? What sort of fetish will they shove you into? These thoughts plague you as you fidget with the end of the thin belt around your dress. You’re worried the trainer might be some disgusting brute who never showers. Or just as bad, someone incredibly handsome who will end up seeing you in terribly embarrassing situations. 

You hope he’ll just be an average man. 

“Hello, miss,” a honeyed voice says behind you. 

You turn around quickly to see a stunningly beautiful man with long black hair. He’s dressed casually in dark, loose-fitting clothes and his eyes are narrowed by a smile that curves his lips in a way that makes your heart beat a little faster. 

Is he a customer? You glance around, looking for the silver haired woman who went to fetch your trainer. She’s the one he needs to talk to. 

“Um, sorry, I just got here. I can’t help you, but the owner should be back any minute,” you say, returning his smile. You can’t help thinking that if customers look like him, this might not be so bad after all. 

“You’re new?” he asks. 

You nod, feeling a little embarrassed for this gorgeous guy to know you’re here to sell yourself. “I’m just trying to take care of my family,” you say.

His smile fades as he fold his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you afraid? I’ve heard they do some pretty extreme stuff here.”

You glance around to make sure the owner isn’t nearby. “Between you and me, I’m terrified! The scariest part is the trainer. I mean, some strange man is going to have complete control over me? What if he’s just a big pervert?”

The customer laughs, his dark eyes twinkling. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think anyone who works here is going to be a pervert!”

You laugh too. “I guess you’re right. Well, I just hope he’s not too rough on me. I’m a very sensitive person.”

He tilts his head forward, one long strand of bangs falling over his eye. “Are you now?”

You feel a sudden chill. You almost forgot this guy is here to buy a doll. Who knows what depraved things he’s into? You let out a small nervous giggle. “Uh, just keep that to yourself if you don’t mind. My trainer might use it against me.”

He smiles warmly, holding a long finger to his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

Just then you hear high heeled footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the owner! You turn to face her, dreading to see what sort of man she’s bringing with her, what sort of man will be doing whatever he wants with your body for the next few weeks. 

But she’s alone. Could she not find an available trainer? 

“Oh, Geto, there you are,” she says, looking behind you. “I see you’ve already met your new doll.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. You slowly turn around and look at the ridiculously handsome man you thought was a customer. He flashes you a wide grin. You reflexively back away from him. “You’re my trainer?!”

“That’s me,” he says. “You can call me Master Suguru.”

Oh no. This is the worst possible outcome. You just blabbed all your fears and weaknesses to him. Not to mention the fact that this man, this beautiful man, was going to see you naked, was going to witness your clumsy attempts to be sexy. How humiliating! Your face was burning already. 

He steps around you and heads down the hall. “Follow me and we’ll get started,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder. 

You’ve only been here a short while and it’s already turned into a nightmare. The training is going to start now? You haven’t even had a chance to unpack you belongings or see your new room. You reach down to get your small suitcase, but your trainer calls out, “Leave your things. You won’t be needing them anytime soon.”

With a sigh of resignation, you walk down the hall after him, a huge knot in your stomach. 

He leads you to what appears to be a luxurious bedroom. More of the plush carpets and high end furniture. There’s an ornate bed in the center of the room. Oh God, is he going to fuck you right now? You’re not prepared! 

“This is my private room,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “We’ll do much of your training here, but sometimes we’ll use other areas of the house. During your training, you’ll be with me twenty-four hours a day. You’ll eat with me, sleep with me, bathe with me…”

Your face must have twisted in horror at that last comment, because he laughs at your reaction. “You’ll get used to it,” he says. “By the way, I’m guessing you’re curious what my specialty is. Right?”

You nod, too nervous to speak. 

“Submission. Humiliation. Degradation.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. “S-so… basically… you’re going to be really mean to me?”

He smiles as he stands up and steps closer to you. “It’s more than that. I’ll train you to enjoy it, to find pleasure in giving yourself to your owner, in being insulted and berated and humiliated.” He’s so close now that you can smell his scent, like sandalwood and citrus. He reaches up one hand and touches your face. “But yes, I’m going to be really, really mean to you.”

You shudder at his words, at his closeness, at his soft fingers on your cheek. Then he steps away suddenly and sits back down on the bed, casually. “I don’t use physical force generally. I don’t hit or shove or fully restrain. I dislike using violence in my training. I have other ways of disciplining you.”

He pauses to watch your reaction, then he goes on, his sensual voice seeming to go lower. “You will obey my every command. You will do anything I tell you to do, no matter how unpleasant it is. Failure to do so would be a breach of your contract. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer out, looking down. 

“That’s ‘Yes, Master Suguru,’” he says. 

“Yes… Master Suguru.”

“Great!” he says, clapping his hands together once, startling you with the sound. “Now let’s do a little test run to see how well you follow orders. Take off your clothes.”

“R-right now?” you ask, your face positively on fire. He says nothing but narrows his eyes, giving you a warning look. There’s something scary about it. “I mean… yes, Master Suguru.”

He smiles then, still sitting on his bed as if the two of you are having a normal conversation. 

You untie the belt around your dress and drop it to the floor. Then you step out of your shoes. You pause for a moment, not sure if you should unzip your dress on the side or simply pull it over your head. You decide to unzip, thinking it will slow this process down by even a few precious seconds. Suguru offers no commentary as you slide the dress down your hips and let it pool around your ankles. He just watches. 

Left in only bra and panties, you look to his face, as if silently asking if this is enough. He still says nothing, only stares at you expectantly. His silence is nerve wracking, his eyes on you almost unbearable. You unhook your bra and pull it off, resisting the urge to cover yourself with an arm. Then you take a deep breath before pushing your panties down to the floor, stepping out of both them and the dress. 

Once fully stripped, you keep your eyes on the floor, your hands stiffly at your sides. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you force your eyes up to his face. His gaze is burning holes into your body. At least that’s what it feels like. 

“Alright,” he says in a pleasant tone, “now lie down on the floor, with your feet pointing toward me.”

You blink in confusion. Is he going to take you on the floor? When there’s a perfectly nice bed right there? But you don’t hesitate for long. You carefully get down on the carpet, trying to be as modest as possible, and then lie down as he instructed. 

“Spread your legs. Draw your knees up toward your shoulders.”

Well, so much for maintaining your modesty. You knew it was a futile effort anyway. You follow his orders, feeling like your whole body is on fire with shame. He’s looking at you. He’s looking at your most private parts. 

“Now pleasure yourself,” you hear him say. 

You raise your head up from the carpet to look at him, praying that he’s only joking, but he’s not laughing. “I can’t!” you say, unable to conceal the terror in your voice. This is too much. You can’t possibly do something so embarrassing in front of this man! 

He stands up from the bed and steps over to you, looming over your naked, spread open form. “Oh? Already refusing orders? We can do this in the main hall if you prefer. The other trainers would probably enjoy the show.”

“No, please!”

He kneels down in front of you, practically between your legs. “Or, you can just get up and walk out. No one is forcing you to do this. You came here of your own free will, didn’t you?”

You close your eyes, tears leaking out. He’s right. You came here on your own. No one brought you here. No one even suggested it. The whole thing was your idea. You knew things like this would happen, and you came anyway. An image of your siblings flashes in your mind, and you know you have to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and healthy. 

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, using one hand to wipe your tears. You wait a moment for him to back away, but to your horror he remains where he is, inches away from you, with a clear and perfect view of your pussy as you reach one shaky hand down to lightly rub yourself. 

Your eyes close as you sniffle, trying to keep yourself from crying. You slip one finger into your folds, trying to focus on the feeling and forget that you have an audience. You’re dry, because of course you are. Lying there holding back your tears is not the least bit arousing. 

“Look at me,” you hear him say, and you almost sob. You open your eyes to find him hovering over you, his silky hair spilling over his shoulders, his eyes moving from your hand between your thighs to your face, his luscious lips curled into a predatory smile. 

Oh God. He’s so gorgeous. It’s entirely unfair.  

You feel the first drops of wetness as your fingers glide over your skin, spreading it around, glossing it over your clit. 

“There you go,” he says, his voice low. “Finally getting wet. What did it for you? The fact that I’m watching?”

You don’t say anything, just keep stroking your clit with your finger, your breaths coming quicker. You’d rather look anywhere else in the world, but he ordered you to look at him, so you’re forced to look him in the eyes as he watches you touch yourself. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, but your fingers are becoming slicker the more you think about it. 

“You’re gushing now,” he says, leaning so close. “Does it feel that good, being watched? I can see everything you’re doing, every little movement of your fingers, the way your clit twitches… it’s obscene.”

His words are getting to you. You’re so slippery that you can feel your arousal wetting the carpet beneath you. 

“I bet you do this all the time at home,” he says. “Do you?”

“S-sometimes…” you manage to say, struggling to focus on anything besides the pleasure. 

“What do you think about when you touch yourself at home?”

“Ahhh…. being touched… by someone else…”

“Touched by who? A boyfriend?” he asks. 

“I… don’t have a… ahhhhhh!!” The moan escapes you before you can finish. 

“No boyfriend,” he confirms. “What about an ex boyfriend?”

“N-never… had one…”

He seems surprised by that. “Really? Then… are you a virgin?”

You hesitate. You planned on keeping that fact to yourself for as long as possible. You’ve heard horror stories about trainers intentionally being rough on virgins.

“Answer,” he says in a commanding voice. 

“Yes,” you finally say, holding back another moan. 

He grins, his eyes shining. “What a slutty little virgin, moaning and dripping all over my carpet, getting off on a stranger watching you rub your clit.”

Your back arches involuntarily, your hips nearly bucking off the floor. He’s so, so close to you. Why won’t he just touch you himself? But he just watches, sometimes looking you in the eyes when you moan, making this as embarrassing as possible. 

You’re close, your legs trembling, your stokes becoming faster, the humiliating wet sounds getting louder. He notices, saying, “Ask for permission before you cum.”

You don’t waste any time. “M-may I please… ahh… cum… Master Suguru?”

He waits for a moment, watching your face while smiling serenely. Then, when it feels like you’re about to explode, he says, “You may cum.”

It feels like the orgasm slammed into your body. You’ve never felt anything so intense before! You’ve masturbated before, when you could find some private moments, but it always seemed like an underwhelming experience. This… this was incredible. 

When you finished convulsing on the floor, you collapsed back into the carpet, your legs splayed apart on either side of Suguru. You panted, closing your eyes and just wanting to sleep. After a few seconds, you realized he’s never moved, so you look back up at him. 

He’s just staring! It’s unnerving. You use what little strength you have to start to scoot back so you can at least close your legs, but he suddenly stands up before you can move. He returns to the bed and sits down again. 

“Crawl over to me,” he says. 

You roll over to your stomach and then get to your knees. Your legs feel weak, almost like they don’t belong to you, but he gave you an order. Feeling low and foolish, you crawl on hands and knees over to him, your thighs sticky with your cum. 

Once you’re right in front of him, he reaches out and lightly strokes your hair. “Ready to meet your true master?”

You look at him curiously. “Huh? But I thought you were-“

Your voice cuts off as you see him reach into his pants and pull out an imposingly large cock. It’s both thicker and longer than you imagined, standing tall and proud in his lap, fully erect. He slides one of his hands over it. 

“This is your true master. For the next few weeks, your life is going to revolve around my cock, around pleasuring it. When it’s not in one of your holes, you should be begging me to put it in one. When you sleep, you should be dreaming about it. Until your training is complete, my cock is your whole world. Understand?”

You’re sitting on your knees in front of him, your “true master” practically in your face. “Yes, Master Suguru,” you say, then you pause and look up at his face. “Uh, do I have to call it Master Cock or something?”

He blinks down at you, then suddenly bursts into laughter. “No, no, that’s not necessary,” he says, patting your head and then wiping at the corner of his eyes. “But you can go ahead and try sucking me off.”

You look from his face to his dick, then back again. “Okay. I mean, Yes, Master Suguru.”

He smiles then, seemingly pleased that you’re getting better at addressing him properly. 

You scoot closer to him and reach out with one hand, loosely gripping the hard fleshy rod with your fingers. It feels strange in your hand, a slight twitch to it that reminds you of a small animal. You move your hand up and down the length, wondering if you’re supposed to do it fast or slow, if your grip is too hard or too loose. Your eyes keep flicking up to his face to check his response, but his expression remains only a mild smile. 

After getting a feel for it, you lean your face forward and give the tip of it a tentative lick, then another. You look up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants you to do. 

He sighs. “You’ve never pleasured a man before, have you?”

You shake your head. 

“I can tell,” he says, and your face burns again. He didn’t have to say it like that. “Since this is your first ever blowjob, I’ll teach you how to do it. I expect you to please me from now on.”

You nod, embarrassed but relieved to be told what he wants. 

“Lick the underside of it, from base to tip,” he says, “then take it into your mouth. Use your saliva to make it wet.”

You follow his directions as best you can, running your tongue up the length of it, slowly, then taking the whole thing as far into your mouth as you can. It quickly hits the back of your throat, so you pull back just a little, enough that you can move your tongue around it, glazing it with your spit. 

“That’s good,” he says, resting one hand on your head, long fingers threading into your hair. “Don’t neglect the balls,” he adds. 

You reach one hand up to lightly squeeze them as your tongue swirls around his shaft, making it slick. 

“Use your lips.”

You tighten your lips around him, moving your head up and down, slobber and precum spreading all over your mouth and chin. You want to wipe your mouth, but you realize this is part of it. Making a mess on your face is probably the point. 

“Your tongue is slacking off,” he says, and the disappointed tone of his voice somehow hurts. You don’t even know why you want to please him so badly, but you do. So you pull him out of your mouth and run your tongue up and down the length before digging it gently into the tip, getting the whole thing soaked with your saliva and then wrapping your lips around it again. You take him so deep this time that it triggers your gag reflex, and you hear a slight catch to his breath. He likes that! 

Feeling a little more bold, you press down further, letting him fill your throat, but when you panic because your breath is cut off, you feel his hand on your head press down even further. Tears spring to your eyes as you try to jerk back, but his grip is firm. “Relax your throat,” he says, “and don’t stop moving your tongue. Yes, that’s it. You’re doing good.”

You try to relax, to trust that he won’t kill you while he’s fucking your throat. You ignore the burning feeling, the soreness settling into your jaw, and keep licking, keep sucking with your lips. You have to please him! 

Just when you feel like you might black out, he pulls your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth. You gasp for air as he strokes your head. 

“Now be a good girl and ask for my cum,” he says, moving his hand up and down his drenched cock. 

You look up at him with teary eyes and red face, still trying to catch your breath. “May I please have your cum… Master Suguru?”

“Stick out your tongue.”

You open your trembling lips and extend your tongue as far as you can. Seconds later, warm ropes of your trainer’s cum shoot out, most of it landing directly on your tongue, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin, some even going further into your mouth. 

His hand is still stroking your hair sweetly as he smiles down at you. “Savor it. Don’t spill any.”

You pull your tongue back in, swirling the cum around to coat the inside of your mouth, then open your lips so he can see. “Good, good,” he says, “My slutty little virgin knows how to treat her master’s cum. That’s really good. Now swallow it.”

Gulping it down, you feel a tingling sensation throughout your whole body from his praise. You want more of it. 

He grabs a tissue from his nightstand and uses it to wipe off your face, then stands up. “Let’s clean up,” he says cheerfully, walking toward a door in the back corner of the room. You climb to your feet and follow after him, finding yourself in a large bathroom. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the shower. There’s no curtain, no door. It’s simply an open stall. There’s even a chair positioned across from it, for someone to sit in and watch. 

Suguru takes the chair, looking comfortable as he gestures toward the shower. “Go ahead. There’s plenty of soap and shampoo. I put a new loofah out for you.”

You stare at the open shower, then back at him. “You’re just… going to watch?”

His dark eyes peer at you. “Unless you want me to help you.”

“No, that’s okay!” you say quickly, stepping into the shower and turning the water on. You yelp when the cold water hits your skin, and you hear him chuckle. Once you get the water just right, you grab the soap and begin bathing, just trying to get this done as fast as possible. 

Suguru’s voice echoes in the room. “Interesting. Most women start by washing their hair,” he says, obviously just trying to keep you aware that he’s watching. “But you’re starting with your tits. Hmm.”

You glance at him over your shoulder. “Do you have to narrate this?”

He laughs heartily for a few moments, then stands up all at once and walks over to the shower, stopping just outside the water’s reach. “You’re funny. But starting tomorrow, I won’t allow any back talking,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Understand?”

You shiver despite the heat of the water. “Yes, Master Suguru.”

The smile returns to his face. “Good, now face me while you shower.”

You grimace as he returns to the chair. He’s really not going to let you keep even a shred of dignity, is he? But you hurry through the process and feel a hundred percent better when he hands you a towel to dry off with. It’s not big enough to wrap around your body, but you can cover some of yourself while using it. When finished, you look at him and ask, “What do I wear?”

“Hmm? Oh, you wear nothing.”

“Huh?!”

He looks as if your reaction confuses him. “Why would you need clothes? You’d just be taking them off all the time. So during your training, you won’t be wearing any.”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. “But… what about when I have to leave this room?”

“You’ll be leaving it in the morning. We’ll have breakfast in the main hall. What about it?”

You stare at him, horror-striken. “I can’t wear anything even then? But the other trainers…”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry about them. They see naked women all the time, most of them with bodies much better than yours. They’ll hardly notice you.”

You hold the towel up in front of you, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Please don’t make me do that,” you whisper, tears in your eyes again. 

“No one is making you do anything,” he says. “Break the contract if you want.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Then do as you’re told. And drop the towel, you’re already dry.”

“Tell me about it,” you mutter under your breath, flinging the towel onto the floor. 

He looks at you sharply, eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Y-you said I can’t talk back starting tomorrow!” you say defensively.

After a pause, he laughs again. “I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I’ll let your bad behavior slide just for tonight. Now about your dryness problem…”

You tense up, wondering what he’s planning to do to you now, but he doesn’t approach you. Instead he pulls his black shirt over his head, revealing a toned, muscular torso. He reaches up and unties his hair from its half-up style, letting it flow freely around his shoulders. Then he shoves his pants down, stripping completely. 

Your mouth falls open as you watch him step into the shower. How can a human being be so beautiful? How was it possible? 

You’re not so dry anymore. 

He points to the chair and says, “Sit. Don’t look away.”

Look away? You don’t think you could pry your eyes off him with a crowbar. Every move he makes is sensual. Washing his hair, soaping up his chest, even cleaning his ass looks sexy. It just wasn’t fair. How were you supposed to handle this? How were you supposed to humiliate yourself in front of this perfect specimen over and over again? 

When he’s finished drying off, he pulls on some cozy looking clothes, very similar to what he had on earlier. Long sleeved black top that fits him loosely and similarly fitting black pants. He looks warm and comfortable, and you can’t help feeling cold and even more exposed, even though the room is decently warm. 

He goes over to the closet and pulls out a thin blanket, reaching it to you. “You’ll be sleeping on the floor, beside my bed. Don’t make that face, this is part of your training. You’re submitting to me completely, right?”

You look at the blanket in your arms, then the floor. The carpet is thick and soft, so it could definitely be worse, but compared to Suguru’s fancy bed, the floor looks dismal. 

You sigh and walk over to the side of the bed, then lie down and spread the blanket over yourself, thankful to finally be able to cover up. 

Suguru stands over you, staring down with a blank expression. “What is it?” you ask nervously, wondering if he has some nefarious plan in mind. In all honesty, you’re surprised he hasn’t fucked you yet. A tiny, buried part of you finds that just a little disappointing. 

He looks away from your face, rubbing the back of his hair. “Just for tonight, and only tonight, you can sleep in the bed with me.”

You sit up, holding the blanket to your chest. “Really?”

He hesitates, then nods. Sensing this is a one time opportunity, you get to your feet, leaving the blanket behind, and crawl under the covers of his bed. It’s so soft! And warm! You snuggle in, hugging a pillow to your face. You feel the bed shift as Suguru climbs in, but you’re fast asleep before he even reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp. 

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto smut #suguru x reader #Geto #jjk geto #Geto Suguru smut #Geto Suguru x you

[gglitch1dd]

Well... aren't you a pretty doll? Pt3

Army Soldier Midoriya Izuku x Secretary Reader

Context: After having spilt your drink on the man, you finally meet him for dancing.

Note: Set in the 1940s/1950s

[PART 2] [Well... aren't you a pretty doll- Masterlist] [PART 4]

“Isn’t he just grand, mother?” You asked as you washed the dishes, watching your Midoriya stand by the railing outside as he talked to your father. The two of them had been out there for a while and you weren’t exactly sure how it was going but considering your father hadn’t pulled out his shotgun yet, you assumed it was going just splendid.

Your mother chuckled as she took the cloth and started drying the newest dishes you had laid out. “Your father seems to have taken a liking to him. He seems really well spoken.”

“Oh he is.” You let out excited looking at her. “He’s so smart too! He speaks like one of those science professors on the TV. He’s so kind and gentle.” You sighed as you thought about him and how much he treated you like a lady. How he’d hold open the door for you, always accompany you back home, almost always refused to stay the night because he wanted to make sure he always had the right intentions.

Your mother looked at you with an amused knowing look before giggling. This was the third visit that Midoriya had to your parent’s house, it got better and better everytime. Although he had met your family on other occasions, a few times when you had dragged him to church on a Sunday. “How long have the two of you been courting again?”

You sighed. “A whole nine months so far, but I get so worried.” You settled your hands in the warm water with the sponge resting on one of the plates. “Especially when he’s sent somewhere, to another base or on a rotational. I get so worried, war changes men.”

Your mother hummed as she moved over beside you. She wrapped her arms around you with a gentle smile. “It does, but it also makes them all the more eager to get back to the things they care about the most.” Your mother placed her arms around you as she gave you a hug from behind. “Don’t worry dear.” She spoke softly. “With the way that man looks at you, I don’t think there is anything that will keep him away.”

You smiled at the observation she had. You trusted her wholeheartedly. You leaned back and gave her hand a squeeze before finishing off the dishes. It was starting to get late and you knew that it wasn’t advised to drive in the dark, but Midoriya did have friends in high places that seemed to let him do such.

Your father walked into the house first, moving to pick up the paper as he leaned back to read the paper on his recliner. Walking in after him was Midoriya, who closed the door behind him and walked over into the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, hands in his pants pockets as he did so. “Ready to go doll?”

You nodded as you picked up your ration book and put it in your sling bag that you had brought with you. “I am.” You stood up and gave your mother a hug, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll ring you later, mother.”

“Please do, and stay well. Remember to block out your windows at night.” She stated as she moved closer to watch the both of you head out. “Goodnight, Mr Midoriya.”

Midoriya nodded his head to your mother. “Goodnight, Mrs L/N. Have a good evening, and stay safe.”

You quickly moved over to your father, kissing his cheek. “Goodbye Daddy, I’ll see you soon.”

He looked up at you, and besides being the stoic man he was, he mustered up a smile just for you and kissed your cheek back, before lifting up the paper to focus on it. “Bye.” You giggled but let him be as you made your way over to Midoriya.

“Goodbye Mr L/N.” Midoriya waved to your father, who only gave him a grunt in return, making you giggle.

Midoriya moved to put his hand to the curve of your back, as he walked you both outside. You walked down the steps of your house. Midoriya moved to open your door for you, allowing you to step inside before heading inside the driver’s seat himself. With a turn of the keys, the engine came to life and the both of you head down the road heading back into town.

You smiled as you looked at your house in the rearview mirror before turning to look at Midoriya in the low light of the evening. The sky was dimming and was turning from a dark orange to a purple. His dark green hair had soft waves of his curls slipping out of the gel that was supposed to keep his hair neat and slicked back. A single curl fell on his forehead, making him look just dashing.

You adjusted your seating as you faced him. “What did you and daddy talk about?”

He glanced at you before chuckling. He pat your thigh gently. “Nothing to worry your little head about.”

“Nothing to worry my little head about?” You asked surprised at the statement. “Well if you’re talking to my father, I sure am worried.”

He laughed at your concern but found it endearing. He glanced over to you. “It was just guy talk, Y/N. Nothing bad, just a conversation between two men.”

“About?”

“The future.”

“What about the future?”

Izuku chuckled at all your questions as he moved to take your hand that was closest to him. He raised it to his mouth and kissed it gently making you ease. “Have I ever told you how much I love how inquisitive you are?”

You tried to fight a flush to your cheeks as you took your hand and looked out the window. “Don’t try and distract me, Izuku.”

His smile broadened to a grin at the way you said his given name. One that he treasured. “I promise you doll,” His eyes stayed forward, watching the road. “It was a good talk. A very good one and soon you’ll understand.” He told you. You hummed, deciding to trust him as you relaxed into your seat. He glanced over at you before smiling at your resting face. “Did you miss home?”

You nodded your head with a soft smile. “Always. But I mostly miss the familiarity of home. I’ve always wanted a house just like it.” You revealed to him with a smile. “The white railing, the washing line outside-”

“The three chickens for eggs in the morning.”

You looked at him with wide excited eyes, so glad he understood where you were getting to. He chuckled in amusement, nodding his head, showing his understanding. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted! And a kitchen too! A proper one that looks right out to the lawn. And neighbours to wave good morning to everyday.” You leaned back with a dreamy sigh. “Wouldn’t that just be a dream?”

Izuku looked at you, his expression eased. “It would… Hey doll, I’ll be a bit busy for the rest of this coming week.” He told you. “But I’ll see you Friday at your place. I promised I would take you somewhere nice.”

You smiled at the fact that he remembered his promise. “You did.”

“I did, and a promise is a promise. I just gotta get all my ducks in a row.” He informed you.

You nodded your head. “I understand. Don’t worry about me.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “You do whatever you have to do. I’ll be here.”

And Midoriya knew you meant it. Which is why he was so sure about what he had planned.

“Congratulations Midoriya. Your promotion is one you should be proud of.” Sargent Aizawa said as Midoriya stood in front of him in his office. He stood up straight and proper like a good soldier as his sargent looked over the papers in front of him. “You’ve worked hard for it and in a short amount of time too. You just keep on rising.”

“Thank you, Sarge.” He said with a gentle smile, knowing Aizawa wouldn’t mind his eased posture when they were alone.

Aizawa looked over the papers in front of him. He sighed, putting them down on his desk. “First Kirishima, then you, at this rate, I’ll have none of my soldiers in the barracks.” He let out with a shake of his head. “You’re moving out. Why?” He asked as he joined his hands together.

Midoriya seemed to visibly soften, which made Aizawa raise an eyebrow. “I have a woman, sir. She’s…” Midoriya couldn’t think of words just at the pure thought of you. His smile broadened as he looked down at the wooden floors. “She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. She’s smart and funny, strong in her own way too. She’s so supportive of me. She has a smile that shines like the sun and I… I mean to marry her, Sarge. I’ve talked to her father and he’s given me permission. I just… I don’t wanna die knowing that she isn’t mine.”

Aizawa stared at the young man in front of him. “Wow, Midoriya. Here you almost have me blushing. She’s Enji’s secretary isn’t she? I’ve seen you two sneaking around the base like two high schoolers.” Midoriya’s face bloomed pink as he straightened up. Aizawa opened up a drawer pulling out his stamp. “A little word of advice, marry that girl as soon as yesterday, Midoriya. The war isn’t getting better.” Midoriya’s expression didn’t change. He knew. Being close to All Might, meant he knew certain things that were above his pay grade but it also meant he got to plan ahead. Aizawa lifted up his stamp, pressing it onto the ink pad before pushing it onto the paper. “If you want someone to mourn you when you die, make sure to do so. The government will take care of her if anything happens to you. And should the war turn south-”

“Nukes, sarge?”

Aizawa looked up at the emotionless expression on Midoriya’s face. Aizawa knew that Midoriya knew a lot. It was the reason why he was in so many high level meetings. He was smart, an exceptional strategist and someone that provided more good plans than bad ones. He was the reason they were holding on where they were. He was someone who All Might would save over the president himself.

Aizawa let out a grunt, answering Midoriya’s question enough. “Should a fallout happen, with the future of this country in mind, all you high ranking married young ones will be on the first train out of the trenches and on the first ship to Okinawa.”

“Okinawa?” Midoriya saw the look on the sergeants face and knew that it was self explanatory if he thought about it. His eyebrows furrowed but he nodded. “Yes, sarge.”

“My point being, Midoriya.” He signed off on the last document. “Marry that girl and make sure you take my rations when you do. She makes amazing scones and I’d like to have some.”

Midoriya paused before chuckling and nodding. “Yes, sarge.”

“Where are you going to stay?”

“I’ve saved up enough for the deposit on a house sarge, but I’m thinking of just a larger apartment for now. That way we can save up if I ever- when I’m gone off.”

Aizawa nodded. “Good. You’re a smart spender, but have a nice wedding. This place needs something to make people happy. Now go, before you infect me with whatever marriage bomb is going off in your squadrant.”

Midoriya nodded with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Sarge.” He bowed at the waist, before heading out. He was grateful to have someone like Aizawa who was so understanding and caring (despite what he believed himself).

Midoriya hastily made his way to the barracks, a smile on his face as he walked. He noticed new recruits marching on, making him remember when he had first enlisted. The buzz cut and short hair with skinny arms that couldn’t even carry a rifle for longer than what was necessary. He was glad he spent the past three years since entering the army being smart and training hard. Now all the work he put in, all the effort and experience will benefit you as well.

Midoriya walked into the barracks with a pep in his step.

“Izuku!” He turned to look at Iida. “What did Aizawa say?” he asked.

He smiled and nodded with a smile. “Consider me gone, Tenya. This Friday, I’ll be out and hopefully engaged.”

“You actually going to ask her to marry you?” Bakugou asked with a raised eyebrow and a disbelieving look on his face.

Midoriya chuckled as he threw open his arms as he headed over to his bed and area. “Well, of course. I want to give her the best a man can do and the only way I can do that is if I ask her to marry me. Hoping to get married by the end of next week. Never know when I’ll see her again with the way the war is going.” He reminded the blond man.

Kaminari sighed as he got his hat out of his trunk at the foot of his bed. “Thinner ration books, blacked out windows, airraids every other day. I thought it was finally settling down before all this happened.” He stated with a hopeful look on him.

Midoriya understood the feeling, but there wasn’t time to think about it. He opened his mouth to say something.

“I’m not surprised at all, if I were honest.” Todoroki pointed out with a shrug. “They’ve been going steady for a while now. It makes sense.”

Midoriya pointed to Todoroki. “Thank you, Shoto.” He stated with a smile. “Now lets stop talking about my doll and I, and get to training.”

“Deflector.” Bakugou tsked making some others chuckle.

“That was so groovy!” You giggled as you sat on against the hood of the car, the both of you out in a clearing just outside of town as the sun began to set. You looked to your right at Midoriya, a wide smile on his own face. “Why have you never taken me before?”

He chuckled and nodded his head. “It’s a little army soldier secret, doll. We don’t need you telling your boss about it.” He reminded you. You gave him a pointed look. He raised his hand in defense as he chuckled. “Just a precaution, doll. It isn’t aimed at you.”

“Well it sure sounds like it.” You told him. You looked out at the setting sun, smiling at the plains before you. It was times like this where you could forget, for just a second, that war was not happening and that you were going to be just fine. “Is the view not just wonderful, Izuku?”

“Yah… she sure is…” You paused as you turned to look at the soldier next to you, his eyes were down on you, not looking anywhere near the sunset. You felt heat bloom to your face as you looked away from him. “Doll…” He started, glancing to his right for a moment before looking back at you. “I know we haven’t been going on long but, well… I sure don’t think I have any regrets with what I want to say.”

You tilted your head confused as he pushed off the front of the car and moved to stand in front of you. “Izuku? What d-do-” You couldn’t even finish your words as you looked down at him, speechless. He was down on one knee in front of you.

“Y/N, I know you deserve more than me.” He started, his eyes only ever being focused on you. “You deserve a good life, with a man that can afford to give you the big house and picket fence that you dream of. A man from a good and stable family that has more to his name than what he’s made of it.”

“Oh Izuku.” You started with a frown on your face, shaking your head. “You know I don’t need that.”

“But you sure deserve it. Doll, I- I don’t know what tomorrow might bring. I might leave off to war tomorrow and never see you again but, if there is one thing this soldier does know is that…” He took your hands in his large ones, encasing them in his loving and soft embrace. “I love you, doll. I love you so much and you’ve made me the happiest version of myself that I’ve ever been. So if it would please you,” He took out from his pocket a delicate golden ring, one just for you. Not too fancy but one that made your heart melt anyways. “Lets get married. I promise you doll, I’ll do everything in my life to protect you. I’ll protect you, and respect you and work twice as hard to get you what you want and I-”

“Oh shut up, Izuku!” You pulled on his shirt and leaned down into a kiss.

His eyes widened but easily held onto you, kissing you back. “D-does that mean-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?”

“YES!” You cheered as you flung yourself into his arms making the poor man fall back into the long grass with a laugh.

The both of you laughed with tears in your eyes, nothing but each other and the world a distant memory.

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #izuku x reader #bnha #deku x reader #bnha midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku fluff #midoriya izuku x reader #soldier midoriya izuku #deku fluff #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoria x reader

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Oblivious To Love

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: five hargreeves x female reader

warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing

summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon

a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!

song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.

He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.

He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.

That was until you came.

Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.

You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.

You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.

You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.

Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.

He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.

To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.

"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.

He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."

"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."

He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.

Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.

The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.

However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.

"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"

He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."

"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.

To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.

You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.

True, pure love.

It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.

After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.

You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."

You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."

He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.

You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.

He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"

"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"

"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"

"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.

"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"

Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."

He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what about-"

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.

He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.

He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.

You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.

You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.

He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."

#nina writes 🤭💗 #nina’s 1k celebration ❣️ #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #five hargeeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves oneshot #five hargreeves fanfiction #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy oneshot #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #five x you #five x reader #five fanfiction

[allfearstofallto]

The Sweetest Spoil of War

Yandere! Demon King Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: a war ended with an unwilling marriage. The fighting ceases, but at the cost of your hand.

TW: Forced marriage, NSFW implications, size difference, mentions for Dub/Non Con, virgin! Reader, yandere/obsessive themes

AN: another one that has been sitting in the drafts for years!! But I finally finished this first part. Hopefully I'll have the second, more smutty part written up soon!!

A brush of blush across the cheeks. A swatch of color on the lower lip. Many swipes of a comb through your hair. The tightening of your bodice fixed your posture, and you were adorned with heavy jewels and rings. All the while, a celebration was happening outside.

It wasn’t a celebration you could see, you weren’t allowed to move a muscle, couldn’t even turn your head to look out the window, in fear that you may disrupt the many people who were spending their time making you beautiful. But it was one you could hear. As the maids picked and prodded at every part of your body, cleaning you here, applying makeup there, covering this, uncovering that, you listened to the happiness of the people. Your people. Well, technically not your people any more.

They popped fireworks and sang songs. Their cheers grew louder and louder as the minutes went by, as you got more and more dolled up. Street vendors loudly advertised their wares and you could hear children playing in the streets again. It was probably the first time they’d left their house in months, it was probably the first time it was safe enough to do so, they had every right to celebrate. But at what cost?

If they knew the price that was paid for their safety, the price they paid for freedom from the war, the war that they were losing, would they still cheer? Would they still dance and sing? Would the celebration still continue?

The price was you, of course. The second daughter of the King of the land and the gem of the nation, or so you were called. Good deeds came like second nature to you, they were as easy for you as breathing. The way you donated and volunteered was like nothing the royal family had seen. Your kindness was a tall tale spread around like wildfire and marriage proposals were in abundance for you. You were like a tourist attraction. Rather than coming to visit your country for sights, people would visit to meet you, as if you were some sort of celebrity.

Your nation was small, but what it lacked in land, it made up for in stocks and trade. It was a modest business that made more than enough money. But greed is a drug, one that your father was heavily addicted to. Expanding was a bad option, you always told him so, but your words fell on deaf ears, and as the farmers marched further and further upon land that wasn’t theirs, the true owners of it fought back.

For a year, your father insisted that the war with the rival nation could be won. You always wondered why he thought that. The land that he’d intruded on belonged to none other than the demon king himself, a man feared but rarely ever seen. His endeavors were like horror stories spread across the nation, and your tiny little country didn’t even have an official army. Rather, there were a few patriotic men who were sent off to fight first. There wasn’t much of them left to bury when they returned. Then who left was decided by draft. The first men were a warning for what was to come and everyone knew that. Moral dwindled when people began running away from their own country, rather than fighting for it.

Negotiations started when the supply chain got cut off by the demon king’s army and with a nation as small as yours, no other kingdoms were offering help. The talks were started through letters at first. Your father sat at his desk, lips in a tight grimace as he read the sheet of paper over and over again before writing his response in return. Things went on this way for months, the writing back and forth as war raged on right outside your door. Until the day he showed up.

You didn’t think that the demon king himself would come, but you watched out from your front door as the carriage pulled into the town. It was large and ornate, covered in shiny stones and what appeared to be bone as well. It was a mixture of the high class of the aristocrats and the barbarian ways of life of the demons. The hoofs of the horses clopped down the road and the carriage swayed ever so slightly side to side. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was in there.

The driver of the carriage himself was also a demon. A burly blond one with piercing, blood red eyes and horns like a ram. When he snarled at one of your citizens, you could see his teeth. They were sharp like the heads of arrows, like they could bite through the flesh of a mere human at any time. It made your skin run cold as you realized that all demons shared the same few traits, long nails, horns, and sharp teeth. You could only imagine what those natural advantages were doing against the measly weapons the army was given.

You could already feel your palms sweating as the carriage stopped in front of your castle. The entire family had to come out to greet guests, as were the rules, but all you wanted to do was slink back into your room and pray that the war would end naturally. And you weren’t the only one silently wishing to leave. You spared a glance out of your peripheral to the rest of the family and saw that they too stood stiffly, or did everything they could to avoid eye contact with the large carriage that casted an almost laughably ginormous shadow over your family.

The blond boy pulled at the reins of the horses, stopping them in front of the castle, before stepping down from his seat in front of the carriage. Even for a demon, his face was easy to read. He didn’t want to be here, and he most definitely didn’t want to have to be cordial. You could see the hatred for your father in his eyes, the way he wanted to just lunge at him and end things in this very spot, but he didn’t.

“His Highness, King Kirishima Ejiro,” he said almost sarcastically. Then he opened the door to the carriage behind him.

Big didn’t even begin to describe the man. He was humongous. Not only was he tall, but he was also thick with muscles and hands that looked like they could crush your skull with ease. You looked at him and you saw a demon. His hair was long and spiky, and unlike the companion he’d brought along who had curled horns, he stood straight up, only adding to his monstrous height.

The suit he was wearing was still adorned with demon-like paraphilia, bones and bottles filled with what you could only assume were potions. His scarred hands were covered in rings and the sly smile he gave your family showed you enough of his teeth to prove to you that you’d rather die than go near his mouth.

You didn’t know where to look, you could barely even think as he stood before you. His eyes weren’t red like his subordinate, rather, his were a beady, inky black color that scanned across your family. They were taking in every single sorrowful and fearful face, until they landed on you.

You felt your heart stop beating completely when he looked at you. Your breathing became shaky and you felt yourself about to lose consciousness from his gaze alone. Why was he still looking at you? The rest of the family only got a glance, but you, it seemed like he had to forcefully peel his own eyes away from you.

“You have a lovely family,” he said. His voice was deep, yet booming, it felt like your ankles were shaking, just from hearing him speak. If not for the fact that he scared the life out of you, you would’ve scoffed at him. A beautiful family that he was going to ignore when negotiations started. But maybe that was for the better.

He was led inside, following behind your father who was shaking in his boots. He had to duck to get through the door and his footsteps on the tile floor sounded more thunder cracking inside the walls of your home. He looked around with a strange look on his face, one that seemed almost enthusiastic, but that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be happy while he was in enemy territory, not while he could easily be killed.

And that was the plan at first. Lure him in and have the army raid the palace, he’d be powerless since he expressed through his letters that he’d only be bringing one guard. Your father thought he was stupid or naive, but casting eyes upon him showed you that one guard was enough. Anything else would’ve been overkill.

They were in talks for what felt like a few mere moments and he was coming back down the stairs with a smile on his face. You’d long since hidden in your room to keep from having to entertain the blond demon that was sitting in your living room, but curiosity made you peek your head out when you head the door to the office open. Your father was aggressively shaking the demon king's hand, but you could see the horror in his face. There was sweat pooling on his forehead and he looked like he would throw up at any moment. You later found out why he looked that way.

At the dinner table that very night he announced that the war would be ending and the supply lines would open back up. There was a unanimous cheer from the family as you and your siblings argued over who would get to tell the people of the nation that they were free to roam the streets again. You were so ignorant. The way your father looked at you should’ve told you enough. It should’ve told you that the war wasn’t going to end with a trade or an apology, it was going to end with a wedding.

The fireworks continued to boom and crackle as they filled the night sky, while a little more blush was applied to your cheek. No one else in your family knew, they thought you were getting married to some commoner who you’d fallen in love with. Only you and your father knew the truth, and resent didn’t even begin to describe what you felt for him.

Your dress was too heavy, your hair was uncomfortable, you had to stand a certain way, or makeup would get on your collar and the entire look would be ruined. You looked beautiful, that’s what they said to you, but could they not see the hurt on your face? Or the fear? If they saw, they didn’t care, and you were guided down the stairs.

Past the home that you grew up in, the walls lined with family portraits, and your family themselves waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. Your mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. When she found out the truth, she’d be crying for real. They were going to find out eventually, you knew they would, you just wished you could see the aftermath of it.

A carriage was waiting for you, one of your family’s own. Normally in an aristocratic wedding, the carriage from the family of the groom would be sent to pick up the bride, but the story your father spewed gave an explanation. The man you loved was too poor to even afford his own carriage, but love doesn’t know money. You scoffed, but held your tongue. If it were for the sake of your family and your country, you’d go along with it.

You would ride your family’s carriage into the forest, about halfways to the demon king’s palace, then you would switch into one of his. That way, your family wouldn’t catch on, that way, they didn’t have to watch in horror as you were given away to a demon, even though your father knew that they wouldn’t allow something like this, but he did it anyway.

It was an unpleasant ride. People rarely ever traversed through the forest so the carriage shook and jolted. You were getting farther and farther away from the noises of celebration, farther and farther away from your people. If only for one night, you would like to celebrate too, the war was a horror that you were living in as well after all.

You pressed your lips together to keep from crying. You’d already cried enough and you truly didn’t know him or how he’d respond to your tears. You spent hours sitting in that chair getting ready for him, what if he were the type to get angry if just one thing was off? If your make up was smudged or your eyes puffy, would he kill you where he stood? You held it in and pretended to be strong.

The carriage stopped and your door was opened, the second he did. The driver gave you a knowing look as he offered you his hand to help you step down. His fingers were cold, that’s all you could think about as you looked over to see the new carriage that you’d be riding in. The same one that had pulled the demon king into your family’s palace. Your heart sank as you realized that he might be in there. You weren’t ready to meet him up close, not yet.

The blond demon was here again, standing at the side of the carriage. Horses from the demon kingdom always felt much larger. Like they were eight foot tall monsters and not animals. You couldn’t believe you were focusing on the horses, you were trying to look at anything, anything, that would keep you from having to get into that carriage. But he was already opening the door and the carriage from your nation had already turned and pulled away, not even waiting for the transaction to be completed.

That felt like the final straw. Being left behind by one of your own and stuck with a demon. A demon who was obviously sick of waiting for you and who looked like he was just going to force you inside himself.

“The king doesn’t like waiting,” he said, gesturing towards the door. With a meek nod, you walked towards it. Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet and the sound of an owl made the entire ordeal more ominous.

You looked to the demon, then back to the carriage door. He didn’t expect you to go in by yourself, did he? Even in your home nation, the gentleman would offer the lady a hand and help boost her up the step, a boost that was much needed, since demons were naturally taller and the step was too high for you to even reach on your own.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, eyes having already practically rolled into the back of his head.

The step seemed as if it came up to your waist in height, yet he asked you what you needed. “I obviously can’t get up there by myself,” you spat, holding your hand out for his help. You’d never felt the skin of a demon before and honestly, you didn’t want to now, but there was no other choice. The deal had already been made.

He didn’t even pass a glance at your hand, stepping closer to you, he placed his large palms around your waist and hoisted you up with little effort. You tried not to squirm in his hold, afraid that he might drop you. Even for a moment, you were so high up, before you were placed into the carriage, with the door being slammed shut in your face.

The carriage began to move before you were even fully seated and you were thrown back. If this was the way the demon kingdom treated their royalty, you could only imagine what was going to happen to you. But you tried not to dwell on it. Your chest was already tight with fear and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead.

This was it, you thought to yourself, even as you gazed out the window, all you could think was that this would be the end of you. All alone, all by yourself. You wondered what your siblings were doing, what your mother was doing, if anyone was even thinking about you at all, of if the celebration was just too much for them to care.

The carriage swayed and thumped against the ground for what felt like hours. The pretty dress you were in had grown a bit damp from your sweat and you tried to fan yourself. You were nervous. Hot and nervous and all you could do was listen to the hooves of the horses as they hit the ground and wait for your eventual marriage.

Then everything stopped. Of course the carriage driver demon was rough with this as well and you were thrown off of the seat and onto the plush floor of the vehicle. You barely had a moment to catch your breath and regain your bearings before the door swung open quickly, making the whole carriage shake from the force.

Still on the floor, still a bit sweaty, with fearful eyes, you came face to face with the demon king. His teeth were once again what you noticed, those big, sharp teeth that were held in a mouth that was grinning at you cheerfully. He looked overjoyed to see you, even in your crumpled up, terrified state.

“By the gods,” he whispered quietly while still looking at you all over. It seemed like his eyes couldn't focus on one place. Your face, your hair, the swell of your breast, the small of your waist, from your heel clad feet, to your hair that was put into an ornate updo, he couldn't get enough, “You're even more beautiful the second time around.”

You were shivering. God you were shivering like you were freezing. Your stomach was in your ass and your heart felt like it was going to leap from your chest. All that time, all the time you spent being picked and prodded at in that chair, being made to look good for him, all that time and it just now hit you what was happening to you. It started before you could even think to stop yourself and while he looked you over like you were a gift from heaven itself, you began to cry.

Tears ran down your pretty cheeks, smearing your makeup in their wake and you started to hic and sob. You had no control over it and the way his smile fell when you began to weep, made you cry even harder. You were going to die by this demon's hands. You were going to die because your father, the coward that he was, sold you off.

Kirishima turned to look at his subordinate, his face a mix of emotions. So quickly, you could barely see it, he grabbed the blond male by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, “I thought I told you to make sure she was taken care off,” he growled those words between those closed sharp teeth.

“I did,” the blond male muttered back. His tone, his attitude, even the way he was looking at the demon king was disrespectful. He didn't seem the least bit afraid or even bothered by the fact that he was being scolded. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Then why is she crying, Kastuki?” He spoke the words slowly before dropping the man back down onto the ground. He landed with a thud, but didn't protest, “I've told you about your driving. Humans are fragile! They can't handle something like that!”

He merely scoffed and rose from the ground, “Then do it yourself next time.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he said anything. Instead, he focused on your trembling form, still sitting on the carriage floor, “Are you alright, darling?”

He tried his hardest to be gentle with his voice, to be quieter so not to scare you. He reached a hand out to you, but you flinched away from it. You didn't know what to say or even what to do. A part of you felt like the second you left this carriage, it would all be real, you'd really be engaged to this demon, you'd really be with him for the rest of your life.

He tilted his head at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile to the best of his ability, “I'm sorry if Katsuki scared you, but I promise nothing will hurt you.” He reached into the carriage and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer to the door with ease, it was like you weighed nothing to him, “but we should really get you inside the castle and into something more comfortable.”

Your body was tense and you tried to think of what to do. A way out of this. How would you be able to run away from a demon, in the whole nation of demons? Would you even be able to go home? Would you getting away make a war start?

You couldn't even think about it to yourself, couldn't even respond before you were picked up by him and held against his firm chest. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, being in his arms made it feel like you were fifty feet above the ground and all you could do was shiver.

He carried you into the castle. It looked nothing like your own home. It was more worn down, but somehow it was bigger. The tallest tower looked like it was piercing the clouds and the windows were the size of the doors you had back home. You sniffled and sobbed the whole time you were carried up the stairs, and when he finally reached out to open the front door, you finally managed to say something.

“P-please,” you managed to stutter out between your pathetic little hics.

“Oh, so she can speak,” he replied back a little too happily, “and here I was thinking you were mute. That wouldn't have bothered me though, you're still gorgeous.”

More tears ran down your face as you tried to regulate breathing, to get more words out, to hopefully beg for return home before the marriage was consummated, “My father…he…he made a mistake. I didn't want this,”

He kept walking into the castle as you spoke, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed off the walls. You were brought to a day room where he sat you down on a rather large couch, so big your feet just barely managed to touch the ground. He kneeled in front of you while you sat and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands, the more he touched you, the harder you seemed to cry, soaking his thick fingers with tears. He knew you were scared of him, but he just couldn't stay away.

“I know you didn't want this,” he cooed, his breath hitting your face, “I wanted this.”

Before you could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wet and suffocating and all you could do was sit there limply as he engulfed your mouth with his, tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

He tasted of meat and alcohol, typical dishes for demons who were celebrating and his grip on you was firm. His hand had slithered down from your cheek to your shoulder, then to your waist. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Your strength and size was nothing compared to him, just one of his hands was almost enough to completely hold your back. You'd hurt yourself more if you fought back.

When he pulled back, you were panting, breathless. Your first kiss and it was so brutish and even worse than that, it was taken by a demon. Your eyes were still wet with tears and lips moist with saliva, but he was looking at you so longingly. The way you makeup was running from the sweat and tears, your hair disheveled from the kiss, the way your chest was rising and falling, he thought you were more enticing now than ever before.

“Such beauty doesn't exist amongst the demons,” he whispered against your lips, threatening to kiss you again, “I could've slaughtered everyone in that tiny, little kingdom, you know, and I was planning on it. Until I saw you.”

He traced up your back to where the buttons for your dress began. You could feel him fiddling with them, trying to get them to pull apart, but his fingers were too big and his nails too sharp. As more time went by with him unable to access your body, he grew frustrated until he just ripped the dress apart in the back. The fabric gave way easily to him. It was probably no harder than ripping paper.

“Your father didn't hesitate when I asked for you,” his hand was warm, almost hot, against your bare back as he kept ripping the fabric away, “a part of me was angry about that. His own daughter, his blood. He gave you away so easily. But I was also ecstatic. Even if you don't want me, I want you. I know how you feel about me, how I as a demon scare you…” the dress was pulled forward, over your shoulders, but he stopped there, “The war may be over on paper, but if you ask for it, I can kill him.”

You gasped, “Why would I want that? Why would anyone want that?” You were shouting and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of how scared you were. Or how easily he mentioned killing someone. Or how a part of you actually wanted it. A small voice in your head wasn't upset about the idea of him killing your father for putting you in this predicament, and that scared you.

“He gave you away,” he stated plainly, “You have every right to be angry. Angry at him for giving you away,” he pulled the dress down so that it was sitting around your waist. His tongue, that large, hot tongue licked down from your neck to your now exposed breast, making your breath hitch, “and angry at me for taking you.”

“You could still give me back,” You begged quickly, hoping that maybe if he was showing some empathy, some care for what you were feeling, he would let you go.

He shook his head and gave you a knowing look, “I wish I could, but I know how you humans work.” He didn't hesitate to reach his hand up beneath the ripped fabric and tulle that was once the skirt of your dress, “you wouldn't be wed again anyways, not after what I'm gonna do to you.”

Your sobs grew even louder at the words. Despite your abstinence, you knew the implications of those words, you knew what he meant. Despite your lack of experience, you knew why he was spreading your legs and easing his body between them, you knew why he was ripping away at your bloomers, exposing your wet core to the cool air.

“I told myself I'd wait till the night of our wedding, but I fear myself slipping with need for you,” this “need” made itself known when he began to grind his hips against you, the fabric of his pants spreading your lips and rubbing directly against your clit, “They sent you here looking like this, and I'm supposed to contain myself?” he bit his lips with those sharp teeth of his, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard that he was ripping holes in it.

“I won't take you without your permission,” he stated, but he was still grinding his clothed cock against you,like his mouth and his body were two completely different entities. He was speaking one thing, but actively doing the opposite.

You whimpered as you felt him, your eyes just leaking tears. You couldn't speak a word, your labored breathing wouldn't let you. Your chest was heaving as you tried to open your mouth, with only sobs and pleads coming out. Instead you just shook your head, praying that that would be enough of him to stop.

Despite your begging he still pressed his lips to yours once more in another passionate kiss. This time he felt even more roughr than the last. Was this a game for him? You thought to yourself. Did he get off on watching you beg and plead, just to take you anyways.

But he stopped nonetheless and pulled away. It seemed like he was straining to even do that, the way he was looking back at you like he could pounce on you again. He let out a shaking, sigh and clenched his fist together before stepping back and finally giving you space away from his large form and body heat.

“The wedding will be held in three days,” he said with a forced smile. He picked up a blanket from the other couch and tossed it over you, covering your modesty. You held onto that blanket as if it were your life line, hiding your nude body behind it as you shivered and looked at him, “I can guarantee I'll stop now, but I'm not so sure about then.”

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door to the day room, leaving you alone in this large demonic mansion with only the ticking of a clock as your company. You were too afraid to move, too afraid of what was to come next. You didn't know where he wanted you to go or even if he wanted you to move at all.

But you did know what he wanted from you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

#my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere my hero #yandere my hero academia x reader #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere my hero x reader #yandere x reader

[maevesversion]

Birthday Gift

Sam Monroe x Fem!Reader

A/N: This was inspired by this post! I recommend checking out their user! NOT PROOFREAD

it was your eighteenth birthday and you had invited your boyfriend sam to your small birthday party.

your family and friends gathered around the dining table, you were pretty excited to say the least. your car had been stolen a few months back and you had been wanting a new car for your birthday.

sam watched as you opened your presents with enthusiasm, your smile was everything to him, though the your mouth around him was even better.

“open mine doll.” sam smirked, placing his hand on your shoulder. you knew his smirk never meant anything good.

“where is yours?” you asked cautiously, you never knew with sam, one moment he could be an angel, the next he’s the embodiment of satan.

sam handed you his small brown bag proudly, it was almost as him he was giving you a prized possession.

you looked up at him meekly. you slowly took out the white tissue paper, spotting a bracelet & necklace at the bottom.

“what is this?” you ask, picking up the necklace with a tiny jar full of an unknown red substance.

“my blood.” sam grinning ear to ear, earning a surprised gasp.

“sam!” you shrieked, throwing the necklace at him.

“baby you didn’t even get to my cum bracelet!” sam whined.

★dividercredits- @chachachannah & @plutism

taglist! (if you want to be added dm me!)

#hayden christensen #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #life as a house #sam monroe x you #no use of y/n #blurb #im so lazy #fanfic #anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker #star wars #scott barringer #james kelly #i’m bad at tagging #i hate this lowkey

[coryosmin]

coryo being your tutor in your final year at the academy (reader is 18, he’s at the university) and when you get the answer wrong makes you get on your knees and show him how sorry you are (but obviously you’ve never done that before)

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader, reader loves consent, blowjobs, coriolanus being coriolanus

being in the academy and being part of a prominent family within the capitol, many expectations were put on you in regards to your academics. you were a highly intelligent person, always maintaining high grades. but you struggled with one class, your math class. and therefore, your parents hired a tutor for you. you’re in your last year of school and so receiving a good grade in your math class was highly necessary.

when you first met coriolanus snow, you thought he was such an ass. in school, he was a grade above you, always charming people to get his way. and when your parents hired him, you couldn’t help but be annoyed. he was a student at the university, studying under dr. gaul. how did he have time to tutor you in the world’s most boring subject?

you guys had begun your tutoring sessions and they really weren’t that bad. after about two months, coriolanus and you had a flirtationship where he would flirt with you and you’d allow it. because ultimately, coriolanus was indeed very hot. and you kinda have grown fond of him. “do you see this problem here?” he asked, pointing at the piece of paper before looking into your eyes. “you need to bring down the x and multiply the numbers.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to understand what he was saying. “i don’t understand.” you said, looking into coriolanus’s blue eyes.

“come on. i know you’re not just a pretty face,” coriolanus replied, smirking. he then explained the whole process again. “now it’s your turn.”

and so you tried your best to do the problem. you focused on the math, carrying the numbers. and when you were done, you showed it to coriolanus who just frowned. “it’s wrong.” he looked so disappointed. “you’re not stupid. i don’t understand how you’re getting it wrong.”

you frowned too. you didn’t like when coryo was disappointed in you. it always made you feel bad. and so, in that cute little brain of yours you decided to pout. “am sorry, coryo,” you said, slipping out of your chair and onto your knees in front of him. “can i make it up to you?”

coriolanus’s eyes widened as he saw you drop to your knees in front of him. “what?” he said, looking down at you.

“wanna make it up to you.” you murmured, bringing your hands up to his thighs and letting them rest there until he gave the go ahead.

coriolanus couldn’t help the smirk appearing on his lips as he realized you wanted to please him. you didn’t like when he was disappointed in you so of course, you wanted to make him proud of you. “make it up to me then.” he murmured back, reaching his hand to caress your cheek. “don’t want me to keep being disappointed in you, hmm?”

you pouted, shaking your head no. coriolanus felt his pants tighten at the sight of you. you were on your knees, ready to please him. it felt powerful and definitely turned him on quite a bit. you moved your fingers to the zipper of coryo’s pants, unfastening them. you looked up at coryo, looking into his icy blue eyes with your doe eyes. “just to be sure, is this okay?” you asked softly.

coriolanus couldn’t help the small smile at your slight hesitance, as though you didn’t want to do this until you knew that he wanted it just as much as you did. he nodded his head. “yes, doll. more than okay.”

and with that you gave a small but shy smile before pulling his pants and underwear down enough to reveal his cock. you whimpered when you saw it, unable to help yourself. “so big,” you whispered.

coriolanus smirked, his hand moving to pet your hair. “you can take it, pretty girl,” he murmured.

you nodded your head, leaning down to kiss the tip, darting your tongue across the slit. coriolanus hissed in pleasure, entangling his fingers into your hair. you kept your eyes on coryo’s face as you eased your mouth down onto his member. you got about halfway before having to stop and brought your mouth back up. coriolanus looked at you, inhaling sharply at the feeling of his cock inside your mouth.

“so pretty, on your knees with my cock in your mouth,” he said, gathering your hair out of your face and holding it. “all to please me. you’ve wanted my cock in your mouth for awhile now, huh?”

you hummed around coryo’s cock in response, a sound that meant yes. you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, getting into a rhythm. you brought your hand to the base of his cock, jerking off the rest of him that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. coriolanus let out a low moan, closing his eyes in pleasure.

you began to speed up your movements, sucking coriolanus off so well. your tongue swirled at the tip every time you moved up his shaft, causing coriolanus to jerk his hips involuntarily. “oh fuck,” he moaned, gripping your hair. “doing so good, doll. i’m so close.”

you moaned against his cock, sending vibrations down his shaft as he began cumming in your mouth. “fuuuck,” he moaned out, holding your head as he came down your throat. and when he finally came down from his high, he let go, pulling his cock out of your mouth, leaving a trail of cum on your lips.

you looked so pretty. your eyes glistening with tears, your lips plump and shiny with drool and his cum. coriolanus let out a breathless chuckle, caressing your hair. “you did so good, pretty girl.” he murmured. “maybe if you get this problem right, i’ll reward you with my cock inside of you. how does that sound?”

you whined in response, nodding your head. “please.”

coriolanus smirked. “good girl.”

#minsasks #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #thg #thg tbosas #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow smut

[xyouami]

hi! i wanted to ask if you can do a Scaramouche × female reader when scara finds the reader self harming/trying to suicide. Thank youu! <3

YES YES OFCC!!!! IDK HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX, AND FORGIVE ME IF I HAVENT SEEN THIS FOR A WHILE.. 😭😭😭

Who knows, maybe I'll add a lil twist to the end for suspension... 😈😈 /hj

—————

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

★ SYNOPSIS : He caught you trying to do it. Who knows what his heartless mind will do?

THEMES/WARNINGS : Suicide, SH, dark topics, some of it is in first person, you've already dated someone, u r 7th fatui harbinger, anything you can think of as bad..

Everyday,

Every night,

Every week,

Every month,

Every.

Day.

Fatui meetings, missions, every minute it's so frustrating.

Every day, is just the same. Nothing changes. But the only thing changes, is my motivation.

All I just wanted was for someone to notice my hard work, at least just a single praise can bring up my hopes.

Overworked, tiring and restless days, food just tastes bitter. After I joined the fatui for personal purposes, my partner left me. They said, "I wouldn't want to date someone who'd work for the devil."

Not that I was doing it for her.

As the 7th fatui harbinger, what could ever go wrong? I mean, treated with some care by the other harbingers isn't bad at all. Columbina is the kindest one of them all, yet terrifying. Arlecchino is barely here but when she is here, she treats everyone to a meal. How could everyone have a kind heart of their own?

Dottore is very foolish despite his rank. Pulcinella takes care of Tartaglia's family which is very kind. Pierro is actually gentle despite his cold and harsh demeanor. Sandrone gave me a small doll of a flower, to always make me remember that summer will always be with me wherever I go. Pantalone once broke a valuable vase, but he fixed it on his own when he had the time. He told no one but me.

Tartaglia always checks up on the Fatui harbingers. He seem outgoing and cheerful most of the time, but when he's alone, he's so quiet and dense. Captiano is scary, but can also protect us. Scaramouche isn't here often, but hes not a trouble to bother. He sometimes comes to talk to me to rant or just come to bother my company. Signora was the closest to me. She's strict yet I sometimes catch her playing with the children at the House of Hearth. Ever since her death, I felt... quite lonely. But I've accepted it.

How can everyone be so busy and kind of their own?

And I'm just a rotting body.

I envy them.

"Comrade! What are you doing just wasting time away like this?" You turned your head immediately to the familiar voice, to see a ginger colored head with a beaming smile, but void like eyes.

"Oh, um.. I'm.." You looked back at the table to see a desk full of unfinished and uninteresting papers. You game to the main hall to work on paperwork. Only to realize you've zoned out and gotten no progress.

"Let me help you." He immediately scooped up a pile of papers, some of them fell but he lifted his foot to catch one drifting to the ground.

"How long have you been here? You okay, Comrade?" Childe gave you a friendly smile, the dim moonlight coming from the large windows only casted a small glimmer in his eyes.

"I uh... I don't—"

"Don't worry about it! I'll come back to you once I've finished, but you owe me a meal!" Childe left as he threw the paper on his foot back into his tall pile of papers and walked off.

"W-wait! Tartaglia!—" You stood up from your seat to turn around and stop him. To only be met with an empty and dark hallway, only being lit by the moonlight from the windows.

"I..." nothing but mutters came out of your mouth.

"How can I be so pathetic?" A quiet voice came from you. Only to sit back in your seat to see no papers. Columbina was suddenly there. It was normal for her to appear out of thin air around the Zapolyarny Palace.

"It seemed like you had some trouble, I'll do the rest of the papers." She was holding all of the papers somehow, and you felt nothing but guilty.

"You really don't. It's my work.." you muttered slowly.

"Fatui harbingers may work independently, but some cases, we're all family." She replied. She didn't open her eyes once, but that's just how she sees..

"I'll—"

"You don't have to pay me back, otherwise people will have other useless debts to pay." She turned around and vanished. Not to be seen in or within the wind.

"I just.." All of the 8 years of working and working up and up to only end in this rank feels terrible.

Am I really that useless?

"Y/n." A quiet but loud voice came behind them.

You jumped a little from the sudden small shout, but you looked behind you to see a mysterious figure with a big hat.

"Ah, um. Scaramouche." You quietly said.

"Is my name really that hard to forget?" Scaramouche clicked his tongue then approached you. His figure slightly got taller as he approached.

"I'm sorry."

"Anyway, what're you doing? Shouldn't a mortal like you be in the dormitories?" Scaramouche looked down at you if you were a bug. Even though you were only one rank behind him..

"Oh, I forgot." You mutter. He sighed and gave a small flick to your forehead. You wouldn't really count as him as your friend, but he talks to you more than the other harbingers.

"Humans are so forgetful.." He mumbled.

"Sorry.." You blandly said.

"Stop saying sorry over everything."

"Huh?"

"When was the last time you said sorry?"

"When I... said your name."

"Is that something to be sorry for?"

"I.. um."

"Just go to your dorm. Captiano has something assigned to you tomorrow. Get rest." Scaramouche brushed past you and hushed along to his own way.

"Im.. sorry." A quiet mutter came out of you.

You walked to your dorm only thinking about that moment and past times. You remembered Tartaglia and Scaramouche came to save you in battle against a few hillichurls after you were injured. You couldn't help but cry after that night because you weren't even powerful enough, even though being the 7th fatui harbinger.

Why do I say sorry all the time? Why am I so useless? I'm just only here like a doll for showcase. Why is everything the same? Why am I so weak? Why can I even defend myself? Why...

As soon as you opened the door, you threw off your jacket and didn't even bother to switch out of your clothes. Just flopped in bed and huddled in a ball. Silent and quiet tears fell.

You've never told anyone your problems. No one.

My problems are useless. So what's the point of telling someone them?

You're now standing at a cliff no where near Zapolyarny Palace.

The cold air just felt bitter against your skin.

The pretty lights of the northern lights and stats glimmered. They lit up the whole place..

If only the last time you'll see them is today,

That's okay.

The lights are so pretty.

If only when I was a child, I would be able to jump in joy.

8 years of suffering and loss will be over soon.

I promise you,

It will end today.

I wish my tears would've been spent on something else,

But these lights are so pretty.

I wish..

That maybe someone...

Will love me just as much...

The height of the cliff wasn't scary. But it was a long way down to the cold sea.

The sea reflected the pretty skies.

"So cold.."

To only feel the pressure of wind dropping down.

Im falling.

You're falling.

"Ah!—"

a cold but sudden embrace was there.

A tight grip around your waist was found.

"You're an idiot!"

You looked behind you to see a dark indigo haired figure holding you tightly.

"Do you go so far out by killing yourself because you didn't want things to go out like this!?" He shouted at you.

"Your idiotic mind is killing me!" Scaramouche plunged back before setting himself in front of you. He drapped his jacket over your shoulders.

"Do you plan on being so stupid and killing yourself!? Do you even know how long it took me to find you only to come to you almost dying? Is death your only wish!?" Scaramouche scolded you and shouted at you. His raised voice people could possibly hear from a 5 mile radius. The rest of his shouting blurred in your ears.

But he suddenly paused in his words.

"Why are you crying?"

"Huh?"

"Stop crying." Scaramouche said. Although his voice sounded harsh, his tone was soft.

Soft little streams of rivers were coming out of your eyes, and you didn't even notice.

"I said stop crying."

"I don't..." He paused.

"Wanna see you cry."

"Again."

You just sat in the snow, buried in his large jacket staring at him.

"Wha—"

"You're coming with me." Scaramouche gripped onto your arm and pulled you up without an effort.

"Scara—"

"I said you're coming with me."

Next morning was all a blur.

You were in your bed, how?

You remembered you were outside.

You could've swore you...

Whatever,

Today, the sun was out. The sun isn't usually out during winters like these.

You went to the small kitchen in the dormitory to cook something.

You opened the knife cabinet... only to find no knifves. So you decided to skip breakfast, not that you really had breakfast anyway.

During that whole day, Scaramouche sat next to you without a word. He's usually never at meetings. And today he's always somehow near you...

Talking to Columbina? He's right behind you.

Finishing a task Tartaglia gave you? He's right there.

Hes like a stalker..

It was until a few hours later, you went to do something.. a little dangerous.

You picked up a sharp object until it was immediately grabbed away. You looked to your side to see Scaramouche standing there with the sharp object.

"You've been following me all day. What's wrong?" You immediately said.

"You're stupid."

"What?"

"You already know the answer."

"Huh?.."

"Shoo. I'm taking this away."

"But I need it to give it to captiano—"

"I'll do it." He then walked away.

For some reason,

Your mind told you that...

Maybe he didn't want you to get hurt.

You then turned around to go back,

To only see a shining cryo vision on the table from where you picked up the sharp object.

"Visions are granted by powerful wishes." You once heard someone say long long before.

I wish that someone will love me as much as someone used to in the past.

@xyouami 12/21/23 8:32 pm.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #wanderer #kunikuzushi #wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #genshin angst #genshin anemo #angst genshin #genshin impact angst #genshin imagines #wanderer headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche angst #the balladeer #kabukimono #genshin kabukimono #wanderer angst #kabukimono x you #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono angst

[blingblong55]

Doll- Professor John Price NSFW

F!reader, smut, p-in-v, unprotected sex, dom!Price, sub!reader, 18+, MDNI, professor!Price, student!reader, corruption kink, virgin!reader,

It started as innocent stares between you and your professor. The usual praises he'd give you after you answered one of his questions correctly. The innocent hand touches when he'd hand you your report back but it all soon led to him and you, sneaking out of town and to the city to carry out the illicit affair.

He is a married man, a family man and a professor at your University. You met him during class and thought he was one of the much older students but to your surprise, he introduced himself as your professor. It was months before you were forced to participate in his classroom. You'd always sit in the front row but all the way to the corner, looking down and just listening. You were never like that before, you'd always answer questions, look at your professor and participate in class. One day he asked your other professor if maybe you were like this in their class and to his surprise you weren't.

In his head, he thought he was either despised by you or that his class wasn't interesting enough. And that's when it all started. After class, you packed your bag and as you were about to stand up and leave, he called out for you. "R/N, stay after class. We need to talk."

It wasn't your grades, attendance or even any lack of respect, so why was he asking for you to stay? When everyone was gone from class, you walked to his desk, "Professor?" you shyly spoke, ready for some explanation from him. "R/N, am I not a good professor?" He asked, writing something on paper and then looking back at you.

"No, no I don't think you are. In fact, you are one of my favourites." It was true, the way he spoke and presented any material was impeccable, something no other professor on campus had done before. He nods a small smile of relief on his lips. "I was worried there since you are the only student in my course who never participates, you just sit there, as if you were a painting." His eyes wander to yours.

"You know, you are an interesting student," he adds. You stare at him in confusion, what could he ever mean? "Pardon me, I don't think I understood-" but before you could finish your sentence he cut you off. "Other female students wear skirts, open their legs for me to see as I lecture the class but you..." he sighs a chuckle. "You are so...pure so innocent and I'd like to change that." Your eyes fluttered, not understanding what exactly he was getting at. "I...I don't think this is appropriate-"

"Maybe it isn't but I like innocent girls like you, shy, smart and clueless over the fact I am giving you an opportunity to not just exceed in my class but an opportunity to have fun...actual fun." He leans back in his seat and manspreads. It is true, you aren't exactly experienced but are also aware of the fact you both could get into trouble for such 'fun'. "I'll give you until next week to think about that, love. Until then, just make sure you complete the assignment and if you need help, my office is always open." You nod and walk away from his class.

For the entire week, you kept replaying the encounter. If you agreed and he was fooling around, then would you be in trouble? You finished his assignment and then stared at the reflection in the mirror. What could he possibly want from you? If it is true that girls wear skirts and open their legs for him to see during lectures then why not them? Was he really wanting to change the fact you are much more innocent than those girls?

Tuesday noon came along and you found yourself back in his classroom. Sat in the same seat and took your notes as usual. His lecture was the same, except this time, he called on you to answer the question of the day. "Miss R/N, seems today is your day, so tell me, what do you think about the question?" He walked to you, a small smirk for you to see. Your cheeks flushed, "I think that if he wasn't so full of himself maybe he could've seen him and his people victorious. He made a mistake when he agreed to the treaty but of course, he just wanted praise from the Gods." You say and look back down to your notebook.

"And that is why ladies and gentlemen, the quiet students are always the ones I know will surprise me the most." You look back at him and he winks, only for you to see. And as last time, he asked you to stay behind, locked the doors and made sure all of his other students were gone. You are by his desk, he looks up at you, clearly already wanting an answer. "I'm not sure if it's right for us-"

"No one will know, we can skip this place and head to the city, have fun on our own. C'mon darling, I need this...you do too." His voice is full of lust and desperation. The look he gave you, that's what sealed the deal, a man's eyes can tell more than the lips that lie the truth. In that instant, he knew you agreed. His hands finally travelled to your hips, bringing you closer to him. "Such a pretty thing you are. So innocent and delicate and you know what I do with innocent and delicate things?"

"What?" your voice soft and filled with curiosity. "I corrupt it, mould you into my perfect toy." His fingers at the buttons of your trousers, he played with them and soon sat you down on his lap. His lips teased your neck, nibbling at the soft skin. "Such an angel for such a monster to destroy." His hands are now inside your trousers, teasing your now wet cunt. "Tell me, are you a virgin? Better not lie, doll." You wouldn't know how to answer such a question but all you do is nod in embarrassment. "I'll change that, doll." his lips meeting yours.

Around 7 pm, he had led you to his car, you in the passenger seat and he in the driver, hand on your thigh as he drove off to the nearby city. What was it of him that had you so attracted? Could it be the way he speaks to you? The look in his eyes whenever he looks at you and only you, maybe that is what has you here, begging and desperate to be touched by a man. Being a virgin and in Uni was something different than from being a teenager, this time, things can get more exciting. Especially with him.

A hotel room, that is where all the passion-filled nights happen. One bed, two hearts, two bodies, two mouths, one activity. Sin, that is what you were doing every time you gave yourself to him, a married man, with kids and a perfect life. And somehow you were squeezed in to make that perfect like interesting. Once in the room, that's where it all actually started.

Lips on your neck, teasing your soft skin, leaving marks of where he took you in for the pleasure no one else could have. "Professor-" you breathe out, trying to control your feelings as he is about to make you his for the night. "John, call me John when we're alone." He guided you to the bed, lips never leaving your skin. The hunger in lust wished he could teach that lesson next week. Because why do you feel the need to give in and not be afraid of the bite it could take? His hands were at your waist, tugging the thin cloth that kept him from having you completely. Lips on lips, kissing and feeding the hunger that had been building up for months, well, hours for you but months for him.

Soon, you were pushed to the bed, and he climbed on top of you, shirts getting off skins, trousers on the floor. Now you were at his mercy and he was ready to take anything you were offering. "Just relax, love." His voice is low as he kisses your stomach, trailing down to where he has been wanting to touch for a time now. His fingers teased your panties, squeezing all he could, earning moans from you. You were already wet but he was sure wanting more than just that. He slowly and teasingly removed your panties, kissing your legs as the drenched panties left your body. His hands making sure to open your legs for him, his boxers off. His already aroused tip playing with your cunt.

"Oh...god you have such a pretty cunt." he leaned down, kissing and fingering your already wet and aching cunt. You moaned and whimpered, begging for more. He pins your legs down, fingers fucking into you, opening you for his thick cock. You bite your lower lip, not wanting to moan any louder, afraid of what could be heard. His tongue graced your sensitive parts, hands on your thighs. "You taste like heaven my sweet doll." His voice was low with a hint of a growl. You gripped the sheets, head thrown back, a knot at your stomach and when you thought that wasn't enough pleasure, he pressed down on your stomach, making that soon orgasm feel even more intense.

"F-fuck! Oh...oh fuck...please...i...ah..i" words cut off any time he trusted his fingers into you. At the time you were about to cum, he stopped, which left you whimpering and whining for him. Your hips moved, trying to get off from his knee which was now positioned at your entrance. He reached for his bag, the same one he would take to class. He took some ropes, a ball gag and a blindfold out. A sinister smile on him as he showed them to you. "They'll look so pretty on you." He tied your ankles to each side of the bed, making sure there was nothing left to hide from him. Two pairs of handcuffs are what kept you all night from even daring to touch yourself. The ball gag on your mouth but not before he could have a heated make-out session with you.

The blindfold was on you, trying to surprise you when he took out the nipple clamps. Placed them on your already sensitive but hardened nipples. You moan from both pleasure and pain, the gag ball muffling some noises and words. He chuckles, leaving them on and beginning to finger you once more. He laid down, licking and tasting your sweet cunt. The way it pulsated, the way you clenched it and how tight you were, only made him understand why you were the perfect doll for him.

Once he knew you were ready to take him, he slowly began to open you up with his long and thick cock, you moaned and tears ran down your cheeks. "Shhh, it's okay...it'll hurt for a second but I promise I'll feel good after." He kisses your neck and wipes your tears away. Kissing your professor was one thing but losing your virginity to him, being this vulnerable around him? That was the perfect formula for chaos.

You breathed in slowly, trying to relax, his hand on your chest, "That's my good girl. You'll be just fine, I promise." He once more slid himself inside of you, doing so carefully, Tears ran down your cheeks, and your tight cunt getting used to his size. His thrusts were very gentle and slow. Your moans are loud and quiet, more tears running down from how much he had already overstimulated you before. "Oh...fuck doll,.." his hands on your hips, guiding himself into you.

You throw your head back, his fingers once more making sure you can't remember your name. His thick cock getting milked by your tight cunt, the one he was ready to mould into his perfect toy. Soon when he knew you had gotten used to the feeling, he began to thrust faster and deeper, which only made your moans get louder. The headboard hit the wall behind, letting others know he was already making you his. The nipple clamps work their way as he spits on them, and fingers your nipples. You whimper the blindfold off as soon as he wants you to watch him fuck you.

Your brows furrowed, the orgasm coming closer and closer. Your eyes roll back, just what he wanted, you gasp and moan. He presses your stomach down, making you feel more intense, your body aching, wanting release now. "Please please please...ah... I... I..so close!" But he already knew that, he just wanted to cum inside as you came on his cock. Once he was ready to cum, he began to slap your already reddened face, a hand on your neck, choking you for pleasure. "Cum R/N, you need to cum now, doll." That was enough to have your legs shaking, you, gasping, moaning and screaming his name.

At that moment, he knew he had found the perfect doll for him, ready to be pleased to give pleasure. As you came off your high, he slowly untied the ropes, the ball gag thrown to the floor, and the nipple clamps slowly removed from you. You whimper a little, as he cleans your legs from the mess you both made. He places a blanket over you, kissing your shoulders and lips as he praises you. "You did such a good job for me, my doll." He kissed your hand, bringing you close to him.

Your head on his chest, what a time to be alive. He played with your hair, kissing the top of your head or kissing your forehead when you looked at him with those innocent eyes. Soon, he wanted to change that look. "My doll, we'll have to do this more often." But it wasn't a request, more like a notice of what he'll have you do. No way he would let you say no, not after tonight.

For weeks to come, he bought toys for you both, vibrators, he'd use during class to bring the attention to him. The skirt he made you wear every time he taught you and how he would make you wear lingerie underneath. He always instructed you to sit in the back with your legs open, wanted to have a view of who was going to help him have a release or the reason why his car would have foggy windows. He fantasised about you even with his wife and with her, he always wore protection, never with you.

Your neck is littered with hickeys from the previous night or weeks. The lies you both have told family and friends, all for the best affair of his life and for the best nights of your life. If he wanted you on your knees, there you'd be, serving him as the perfect submissive pet he had turned you into. It made him laugh at times, how easy you were to manipulate into what he wanted. You are his doll, for him and him only to play with.

A/N: okay but...I think its the first smut i write that is kinda long

tags: @liyanahelena

#captain price headcanons #cod mw2 #cod x reader #mwii #cod #captain price #captain john price #john price #task force 141 #modern warefare 2 #john price smut #cod smut #john price fanart #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price cod #john price x y/n #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x you #captain price x y/n #cod x reader smut #cod x you #cod x y/n #price smut #price mw2 #price x reader #cod price #price

[fashioninpaper]

PAPER DOLL FAMILY MONTH

(Peter and Bobby were not included in the set because both had to attend juvenile detention that summer. Cindy had turned them in for a series of petty crimes they committed.)

#paper dolls #family month #the Brady bunch #Marcia Marcia Marcia

[fairyhaos]

ᥫ᭡ // dude, i can see (through) you

vernon x gn!reader fluff, crack(?), supernatural au, non-idol au, ghosts, ft. ghost!jeonghan

3.5k+ words

warnings for: mentions of insomnia, pills

summary: when you move into your new house that seems almost too good to be true, you find yourself (not quite) face-to-face with the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

“Hey, hey, Hansol, did you hear that the family are finally leaving the house?”

“What? Already? Hyung, come on, why do you keep doing this?”

“It’s fun! I bet it was the floating pots and pans that did it. You know how much effort I put in to get those to lift up.”

“I liked these people. They had a dog!”

“Yeah, and the dog could see us. That’s a no-no.”

“Still, hyung, don’t you think we should just… try to live peacefully?”

“Ha! That’s funny. Anyways, I bet I can make the next tenant move out in just a month.”

“No. You shouldn’t do that.”

“So you don’t think I can?”

“I don’t think you should—”

“Oh, it’s on, Hansol! I'm gonna prove it to you!”

“Please don’t.”

───────────── 👻

There is something seriously, seriously wrong with your new house.

It’s nothing obviously wrong, however: on paper, it’s a perfect place. Situated in a nice town, not in an hugely overpopulated area, with various convenience stores and a park close by. Even the house is perfect: not too big, not too small, and, above all, startlingly cheap.

Everything about it is perfect. But from the first day that you move in, you realise that things are a bit… strange.

“Where the hell has my laptop gone?”

You thread your hand through your hair, exasperated. In the middle of your desk, where your laptop ought to be, there was an empty space.

You’ve always been a forgetful person, accidentally leaving your shoes in the wrong place or leaving doors open or forgetting where you put your keys, but this is getting ridiculous. Losing an entire laptop? That’s odd, even for you.

Frustrated, you open your various boxes that still contain half of your worldly possessions, wondering if you’d gone mad and somehow put it away in them instead.

When it becomes clear that your laptop has not been accidentally packed away, you straighten up, shaking your head and resigning yourself to the fact that your laptop is simply lost to the void that is your new house. Hopefully, you manage to find it again before you have to go to work in a couple of weeks.

───────────── 👻

“So, what’s it like, living by yourself?”

You huff, adjusting the phone against your ear as you crawl around on the floor, bending down to look under the sofa. “Really, really weird.”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Weird? How?”

“Well, for starters,” you say, fishing out yet another fork that had somehow made it under your upholstery, “I think I’m being haunted.”

There’s a pause. “What?”

You don’t believe in the supernatural, or the paranormal, or anything mythical or to do with ghosts and vampires and the otherworldly. They’re all just tales, made up by idiotic people and spun into a capitalist plot by the media, creating franchise after franchise surrounding possessed dolls and muscled Hollywood men playing traumatised werewolves. It’s irritating, and most of all, it’s all fake.

Science and supernatural cannot coexist, after all.

But now, you’re beginning to question whether that’s really the case.

“—turned all my clocks forward by four hours. Four! I thought I was going insane,” you say, standing up and returning to your kitchen with the fork in your hands, after finding your cutlery drawer empty an hour earlier, despite the fact that you’d put away all your cutlery only yesterday.

You put the fork away, and then open up a cupboard to grab a glass, only to flinch and scream at what you see.

“Oh my god, Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

“This is ridiculous,” you breathe, staring up at your cupboard.

Every single row is squashed full of your soft toys.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening to me? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You blink up in extreme despair at the cupboard before shutting the door. You don’t have the energy to deal with it right now. “Yeah, I’m here,” you say, holding the phone more securely against your ear. “Listen, I might have to call you back. I still haven’t fully unpacked yet.”

“Are you okay? You screamed and then suddenly went silent.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes for a moment and then open them again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you later, alright?”

You hang up, and walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, before pausing in your tracks, staring wide-eyed at the front door.

The front door that was wide open.

You blink.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door begins to swing shut, before suddenly closing with a sudden bang.

You stand there for a moment longer, before shaking your head and walking up the stairs.

Whichever ghost was haunting you, they sure were weird.

───────────── 👻

“Hey, Hansol, why is this tenant not leaving?”

“I told you. You shouldn’t do this.”

“Hmm, nah. It’s okay. It’s only been a week. I can do this.”

“Should you, though?”

───────────── 👻

Hansol is, unfortunately, so dead.

Very much in the literal sense as well, because he's a ghost. Don't ask him about the logistics of that, or how it came to be, because he doesn't know. All he knows is that one day he died and the next, he opened his eyes and no one could see him. 

But he's also so dead in the figurative sense, too. Because he and his Jeonghan hyung (who was technically a year or so younger than him when he died but still insists on being called ‘hyung’ because he died around a century earlier than him, and “you ought to respect people’s deathdays, Hansol”) have been inhabiting this house for several years, now, but he’s never had a desire to be human again in all that time.

That is, until he meets you.

You’re the latest owner of this house, and you’re… well, you're interesting.

Never before has he seen someone so tolerant of Jeonghan’s schemes. In his attempt to win at a bet that he’d created by himself, Jeonghan was pulling out all the big guns on you: starting off by being a nuisance, then an irritant, then infuriating before escalating into downright chaotic, in a climax where he made all the doors open and slam repeatedly in the middle of the night.

It’s enough to make anyone want to move out. Hansol half-expected you to leave within the first five days, but instead, you clench your jaw and plaster a smile on your face and keep on going.

He thinks it’s a little curious that you’re putting on a smile, even though there’s no one to see it. Like you’re constantly always alert of people watching you, and feeling the need to put on a mask. It makes him want to be human, just for a second, to put a hand on your shoulder and ask if you’re really okay.

During the second week, however, he realises that you really aren’t okay.

“The tenant still hasn’t gone to sleep,” Jeonghan sulks, floating through your bedroom door to sit (well, hover) beside Hansol on the floor just outside. 

“You can just say Y/N,” Hansol reminds him. “What do you mean, though? All humans are meant to be asleep by now.”

“Yeah, well, ours isn’t,” Jeonghan huffs. He crosses his arms petulantly, and his translucent ghost self flickers and wobbles at the dramatic movement. “Why not?”

Hansol shrugs. “How am I meant to know?”

Before Jeonghan can say something snarky in reply, the door to your bedroom door swings open, and the two ghosts flinch and freeze up, momentarily forgetting that they're ghosts. 

They watch as you slowly trudge down the stairs, muttering annoyedly to yourself. You had a dressing gown drawn over you, and you hug it against yourself while you shuffle through your house, before walking into the kitchen.

Hansol looks at Jeonghan, and the other just shrugs, and they both decide to follow you and see what you’re up to.

Hansol peeks his head through the wall just as you pop a few pills into your mouth.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks, pushing Hansol through the wall so that he’s standing in the kitchen properly. “Are those drugs?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Hansol says, and then floats closer so he can see the writing in the bottle you’re holding. It doesn’t help, though, because the writing is all faded, like this is a bottle you’ve had for a while. “Medicine? But what for?”

Jeonghan folds his arms, sitting on the table. “Great. Our new tenant is dying.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop being mean now?” Hansol asks, coming to sit next to Jeonghan.

“I’m not mean.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not! When have I ever been mean, hm? Tell me, Hansol!”

Suddenly, there’s a clatter, and a mess of white pills spread out across the floor, under the table and throughout the entire kitchen. Both of the ghosts, pause, and when Hansol looks up, his eyes widen.

You’re looking directly at him.

No one says anything, and for a long, long moment, you continue to stare directly at Hansol, and he swallows uneasily, glancing over at Jeonghan. The other ghost is just sitting there, too, but he’s looking at you with interest, eyes flicking between you and Hansol.

“It’s… it’s not me, right?” Hansol says hesitantly. “Surely our tenant isn’t seeing me.”

“Try moving,” Jeonghan says, and directs his gaze back to you. There’s not a trace of wariness in his eyes, and Hansol feels more confused than ever. Jeonghan was the one who said that the last family ought to be kicked out because their dog could see them.

Nevertheless, arguing with Jeonghan wastes fifteen years of Hansol’s (undead) lifetime every time, so he does as he’s told, hopping off from the table and almost falls on his face when your eyes track his movements as he does so.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. Hansol’s beginning to feel a bit panicky now. “Dude, I can see through you.”

And then your eyes glaze over and you crumple into a heap on the floor.

───────────── 👻

“Y/N can see us,” Hansol says, pacing frantically. “Hyung, we’re doomed! We’re—we’re gonna get exorcised and go to Hell and have to meet the Devil!”

Jeonghan just hums, looking down at your sleeping form. “I don’t think so.”

After you had fainted, the two ghosts had (very painstakingly) carried you back up the stairs and back into bed. It takes a huge amount of effort for ghosts to be able to make themselves felt in the living plane, and Hansol had been gasping from the effort for a solid hour afterwards.

Now, though, the exhaustion has worn off, and he’s currently making Jeonghan mildly dizzy with all his pacing.

“Hyung.” Hansol whirls around again to face Jeonghan, making the elder ghost raise his eyebrows. “You know what this means, right? This tenant is unwell. You’re not allowed to play your tricks anymore.”

That makes Jeonghan pause. He bites his thumb, then, thinking, before nodding his head. “Fine. I don’t like tormenting the sick, anyways. It hurts to think about.”

Hansol sighs at that, mouth twisting in sympathy. He pats Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Don’t think about it. You’ve been dead for ages, hyung. I’m surprised your memory is still intact.”

Jeonghan scowls, pinching Hansol’s side, making the younger ghost yelp and then laugh. “Hey! We’re basically the same age.”

“Give or take around a hundred years.”

“Yeah, barely anything!”

The two ghosts continue bickering, their voices absorbed into the nothingness that was the plane of the dead. 

In your bed, you turn your head towards the direction of warped voices, squinting at the faint outlines that you can see near the window.

───────────── 👻

“—really handsome dude, oh my god,” you’re saying while you sort through your papers. Your laptop still hasn’t turned up. “Is there any side effect of taking sleeping pills again after a long time of not using them that, like, causes hallucinations of hot guys?”

Over the phone, your friend laughs. “I guess living by yourself really is making you go insane, huh?”

“I’m not insane,” you insist, chuckling. “It sounds insane, but I swear, he was so…” You hide your face behind your hand, despite the fact that no one can see you. 

“That gorgeous, huh?” comes the response from the other end of the line, and you get the distinct feeling that your friend doesn’t really believe you. You take your hand away from your face, trying to rub away the blush on your cheeks.

“Yeah, actually, he was! Anyway, I gotta go. I still haven’t found my laptop, and doing all my work by hand isn’t going well.”

“Go to the library and use a computer there.”

You pause. “Oh. Good idea. I’ll do that tomorrow. Goodnight, I gotta go now.”

There’s a laugh on the other end. “Okay. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The two ghosts sit on your bed, watching you as you hang up the phone and go back to your work.

“So,” Jeonghan says, and his tone is light and teasing, “Y/N thinks you’re pretty gorgeous, huh? I guess you really were seen, after all.” He nods his head in your direction. “Our new tenant is definitely really interesting.”

Silence falls again, and Hansol watches you agonise over your sheets, one hand permanently buried in your hair.

“Hyung,” he says after a moment, “You should give Y/N the laptop back.”

───────────── 👻

“Stupid goddamn insomnia,” you mutter to yourself, trudging down the stairs yet again. “Why can’t I go to sleep?”

You’ve been in your new house for just over two weeks, now, and things are… normal. After the initial weird things happening during the first several days, everything seems to have settled down, almost like the house had gotten used to its new owner. It makes you laugh, every time you think of it in that way, but there’s no other way to explain how the sudden door slammings have stopped, and all your things seem to be exactly where you left them.

And even the other day, you’d found your laptop again.

Everything was going well.

A flash of big, translucent brown eyes flash across your vision, and you shake your head, trying to dispel the memory.

You despise taking your pills, hate them for how drowsy they make you throughout the rest of the day, but just over a week into moving in, you’d caved and succumbed to their awful numbness. Your insomnia had flared up, almost, as if panicked by the new environment, leaving you unable to sleep for several days.

Strangely, though, after you’d had that… vision, you’d been able to sleep easier for a while. 

Large, surprised eyes flood your memory again, and you frown, scrunching your eyes and attempting to get rid of it.

That boy hadn’t appeared in your vision again after that night, and you’ve reluctantly convinced yourself that it had just been a side effect of the sleeping pills and your own lack of sleep. Hallucinations weren’t uncommon with strong sleeping pills, after all.

You finish downing your pills, drinking the entire mug of water for good measure, before wiping your mouth and setting the mug down on the counter. 

Groggily, you rub your eyes and attempt to head out of the kitchen, stumbling a little as you go. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean you aren’t tired, after all. It’s just your stupid body not allowing you to fall asleep.

Abruptly, your foot catches against your other ankle, and you slam into the doorframe with a cry of pain. Eyes still bleary, you move jerkily only to feel yourself keeling over backwards, falling faster and faster towards the floor, and then—

A pair of arms catch you, and you fall back against a sturdy chest that stumbles, just slightly, under your weight, before gaining control and slowly lowering you to the floor, still in their embrace, head in their lap.

Your head is spinning, vision blurry, but as you look up, the sight that stares back at you is as clear as day.

Big, brown, translucent eyes.

Your own eyes widen in shock, and the pair of eyes staring into yours widen too.

“Oh my god,” you say. “How did you get into my house?”

The boy above you opens and closes his mouth wordlessly. “Um… I live here?”

“Like hell you do,” you return. Before you can say anything else, however, the feeling of his arms disappears and you drop the last few inches onto the floor, back making contact with the hard wood. You yelp in pain, and he cringes apologetically.

“Sorry! Sorry. Uh, it’s hard to make myself tangible for long. I didn’t meant to do that. Sorry.”

You sit up, rubbing your back. “Wait, what do you mean? Are you not…”

Another boy steps into your vision. No—he floats, feet constantly millimeters from the ground. He bends down over the boy sitting on the floor next to you, looking down at you with interest. “I’m surprised that you’ve managed to make yourself visible to our tenant for so long, Hansol.”

You blink, lost. “Hey, I can see you too, you know.”

The new boy looks bewildered at that. “You can?” Then his eyes widen. “And you can hear me?”

“You’re talking, aren’t you?” You narrow your eyes. “Is this some prank? Halloween is right around the corner, after all. Are you playing with me?”

“No, no!” The boy who caught you shakes his head frantically. “No, we’d never. Well, Jeonghan hyung might, but I wouldn’t.” He pauses, and then smiles hesitantly, standing up. “Um… we’re ghosts?”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. And then you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Prove it.”

“Please don't pani—what?”

“Prove it,” you say, and then shrug. “I gotta make sure that you’re really ghosts, you know? How do I know that you’re what you say you are?”

The other ghost, Jeonghan, raises an eyebrow. “Why would we lie to you?”

“I dunno. You’re bored?”

Jeonghan thinks about it for a moment, before nodding. “Fair point.” And then, abruptly, he walks up to you, and you expect him to stop right before you, but to your surprise, he carries on going and walks right through you instead.

“Jesus!” you shiver, a horrible coldness running down your spine. “Don’t do that!”

Jeonghan just beams. “Do you believe us now?”

You look back at Hansol, thinking. If you tilt your head just slightly, he flickers out of focus, like a mirage. But when you look at him in just the right angle, he looks as present as any human, only a little less so. Like he’s almost here, but not quite.

After a second, you nod your head. “I suppose you really are ghosts,” you say, and there’s just enough awe in your voice to make Hansol’s eyes widen in confusion.

“You’re… not going to run away?”

“Are you kidding? This is so cool,” you say, clasping your hands together. You grin. “It was getting lonely here anyway. And besides, you’re also really pretty.” Your eyes widen at your own words, and you backtrack. “Uh, pretty cool. That’s what I meant. Ghosts are cool, you know?”

Jeonghan laughs. “Hansol already knows that you think he’s gorgeous. We heard you.”

Instantly, a flush surges up into your cheeks, and Hansol rubs at his nose, embarrassed, before punching Jeonghan in the shoulder. He doesn’t deny it, though, which makes you feel kind of really flustered, but there’s a shy smile on his face as he looks at you.

“I think you’re also really pretty, too,” he says, and goddamnit, a ghost shouldn’t have the power to make you blush like this.

Jeonghan is about to say something, but then gets interrupted when, abruptly, a yawn wracks your frame and you cover your mouth, face scrunching up.

“Well, I think I need to head to bed,” you say, rubbing at your eyes. “Think I’m finally getting tired.”

That makes Hansol almost wilt in disappointment, and it’s such a cute sight that you almost reach over to ruffle his hair. Which is weird. Because he’s a ghost, and also because you hardly know him, but there’s something just so endearing about Hansol that makes you feel like you want to know him forever and ever.

Slowly, you make your way back upstairs, the ghosts trailing after you.

“I’m going to pester you both with questions tomorrow,” you inform them as you get into bed. “Like, about how I’m able to see ghosts and why I can hear you and how long you’ve both been here. I really will.”

Jeonghan laughs. “We look forward to it. It’s been a while since we’ve had someone other than each other to talk to. I think we’ll both like your company.” He nudges Hansol in the side, smile turning devious. “Hansol even more so than me.”

Hansol groans, covering his face, and you just smile, too drowsy to think of what that means at the moment.

“Leave my room before I go to sleep,” you say, as your eyelids close. “I heard you talking in my room a few nights ago, you know. You should know it’s not good to spy on people in their sleep.”

Jeonghan might reply with something, but you’re not entirely sure. Sleep is already pulling you under, pulling you far away from the state of being awake.

The last thing you recall is a cool pressure against your forehead, and a warm voice whispering your name.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @aaniag @amxlia-stars

#fairyhaos.works #k-labels #svt #seventeen #vernon #hansol #seventeen fic #vernon fic #svt fic #svt vernon #svt x reader #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #vernon x you #hansol x you #seventeen x you #vernon x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen vernon #seventeen hansol #svt hansol #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines

[bealovesmarauders]

never grow up / james potter

⋆ ࣪.      ⁺⑅     ⋰˚     *.ﾟ    .˳⁺⁎˚     ˚⁎⁺˳ .    ༺ ˖

james potter x fem!afab! reader, reader has just given birth, tons of fluff, dad!james, slight rugby!james

wc: 1.4k

in which james can't get enough of his newborn daughter, and you don't want her to grow up

your little hand’s wrapped around my finger, and it’s so quiet in the world tonight, your little eyelids flutter cause you’re dreaming, so i tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight

a/n: this is so bad but i was in the mood to write a new dad!james blurb <3 so much fluff, beware. i'm really sorry i haven't been super active- i'm so incredibly busy rn- but hopefully this'll help!

masterlist

⋆ ࣪.      ⁺⑅     ⋰˚     *.ﾟ    .˳⁺⁎˚     ˚⁎⁺˳ .    ༺ ˖

you’ve never seen james this in love before. he’s looking at you with teary eyes and the most adoring smile, gently caressing your hand and stroking your sweaty hair as he meets his daughter for the first time. your daughter, a perfect bundle of newborn bliss and thin wispy curls. “she has your eyes,” he murmurs, and the look of pure wonder on his face is what makes it all worth it- the morning sickness from the last nine months, the labor, the pain. and james has been so wonderful, picking up all of your cravings and cooking up delicious meals for you at any given chance- buttermilk waffles on sunday mornings, alfredo or pesto pasta most nights. he’s promised you penne alla vodka the first night back at home, but right now the two of you are soaking up your baby girl, tenderly brushing her doll-like cheeks with your fingers. it’s dawn, and sunlight spills through the window of the hospital room; the first sunrise with your daughter almost complete.

when visiting hours open, there’s sure to be commotion. sirius and remus have already dropped flowers off, a huge bouquet late last night as soon as they heard you went into labor. lily will come, and so will all the others, and you know euphemia and fleamont are desperate to meet their first grandchild- they’d kill james if anyone else met her first. but right now, you are a family. once two, now three, enjoying the first few moments of a new day together-  james’s broad frame is smushed beside you in the hospital bed, determined to share your daughter’s first snuggle.

“she’s perfect,” james whispers breathlessly, voice laced with contentment, hushed as to not wake her. you catch his eye and soak him up. he’s smiling and you’re happy and both of you are exhausted, face buried in his warm shoulder. you can feel the curve of his bicep, and it comforts you. the baby is close to his chest, and his hold on her is gentle and careful, as if she were made of porcelain. you prayed his rugby training wouldn’t influence his baby-carrying skills, and yet he’s surpassed all your expectations. james’s soft, dark curls tickle the top of your head and you inhale the scent of his jumper, breathing in his loveliness. once your baby is taken by the nurses for her first feed of the day, he’ll massage your shoulders- he knows they must be sore from spending all day in the hospital. he’s already tracing gentle circles on your back, one hand on each of his girls. his touch is careful, fingers trailing up your back to cup the nape of your neck, and you relax into his grasp. it’s a moment of peace and safety in the chaotic world of the maternity ward, and the action speaks louder than words ever will.

james, thankfully, had just gotten home from rugby when your water broke, changing his kit and coming out of the shower when he heard a large crash in the kitchen. he'd immediately dropped the towel he was drying his wet hair with and rushed to find you, clad only in sweatpants and a muscle tank, only to find you’d dropped the laundry basket in shock. you were scared, eyes wide, brimming with tears from the fear, and as he drove you to the hospital, go-bag at the ready, he was scared too. 

james has always hated seeing you hurt. but this was different. it's not a paper cut he can put a bandaid on, or a sore bruise he can kiss away. he's never seen you as vulnerable as the way you were just a few hours ago giving birth, crying out in pain and tears trickling down your pretty cheeks. up until your daughter was actually born, james kept repeating "deep breaths" over and over again, because all he wanted to do was take away the pain- whether the mantra was for your sake or his own is up to interpretation. the only other thing running through his mind at the time was the fact that it hit him- he was going to be a dad. james had dreamed about it for so long- practiced reading fairytales and storybooks to your tummy- bought miniature newborn-sized rugby jerseys- and now his wish had finally been granted.

lying together in the hospital bed now, you’re struck with a sudden hit of bittersweetness, nostalgia for the present moment. in five years- ten years- twenty- you will look back on this moment and hold it close to your heart. your daughter will go to kindergarten, elementary school, so on. she may even have a sibling or two, and it pains you to think of her already growing up. but james is humming a little tune, and his voice grounds you. you squeeze his bicep gently and drop a sweet kiss on your daughter’s head. wispy curls are already beginning to appear, and you know without a doubt she’s going to be just like her father. 

“oh, darling,” james says, and you swear you’ve never been happier than in this moment with him and your baby. “m’beautiful girls. i love you, sweetheart. you’re going t’be the best mum, i just know it.”

and he’s right.

if you've made it this far, i love you. thank you for reading<;3 

here’s a bonus little thing just cause i really wanted to write an extra coming home / the marauders meeting the baby scene. this is super rushed but i thought it was kinda cute

sirius and remus come bearing gifts- another bouquet, and two chocolate milkshakes. “you deserve it,” remus told you, before turning his attention onto the baby and cooing. you think it’s sweet how attached he and sirius are already. they are her godfathers, after all. but then- “jamie, i don’t have any pants.”

all three boys turn their eyes on you, puzzled, momentarily drawn away from the newborn. the frown on your face grows more prominent, and your face looks like it's about to crumple, but james figures it out. “shit, y'mean the go bag. i can’t believe we forgot a change of clothes. s'alright, baby. i'm sure siri wouldn't mind if he ran home quickly and got a pair of my sweatpants for you to wear?"

sirius nods vigorously, and remus is about to toss him the keys but decides against it. “we'll get out of your hair, mate. which joggers do you want?"

“the grey ones," james says confidently. you know the pair he's referring to- you've worn them a few times before and they're the softest clothes you've ever worn. remus passes your daughter back, and you bounce her a little to try to stifle her tiny cries. “oh, and one of his t-shirts too? my bra is killing me."

sirius smirks, but refrains from making any comments. he's sure you're sore after giving birth. he and remus run off, and james shoots them a grateful smile before getting you- and baby- situated. the nurse comes in to take your IV out from the epidural, clucking about like a mother hen, and james holds your free hand as it's carefully extracted, wincing when he sees the remnants of the failed needle pokes as it's finally discarded. rem and siri are back quickly, and when the doctor officially discharges you and the baby, james shoos the boys out of the room and very carefully helps you stand up. you wobble, and he's quick to catch you. untying the back of the hospital gown, he quickly unclasps your bra and gently eases it off, softly slipping his t-shirt over your head and shoulders. james is a tall guy, so his tees are baggy and oversized on you- the perfect comfort clothes to snuggle into. his sweatpants prove to be a larger challenge, but with the help of the hospital bed, you manage. and at last, james is wheeling you out of the hospital, daughter in arms, kissing your forehead gently and driving your little family home, the boys trailing behind for “moral support”. (sirius is just after all of the comfort food euphemia’s dropped off). after the short drive, you're prepared to struggle going up the stairs of the apartment due to, well, the fact that you’ve just given birth, but remus and sirius take your daughter up in her car seat, and james picks you up in one fell swoop, giving you an adoring smile.

“come on, darling. m'gonna get you n’ baby all nice and cozy."

#james potter my beloved #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #james potter drabble #james potter drabbles #james potter headcanon #james potter is the sun #james potter blurb #dead gay wizards #marauders era #rugby!james #james potter x reader fanfiction #james potter headcanons #james potter au #dad!james #dad!james potter

[iheartjameshetfield]

Having kids with early/mid 80’s James 🤭

like yeah he’s young but there’s nothing that makes happier than his little family 💗

AHHH THIS IS SO SWEETTTTT

we all know damn well that the kid would be an accident 💀. he was fucking petrified when you told him the news since he was almost 1000% sure that he would fuck this kid up the same way his dad fucked him up.

you tried to reassure him multiple times throughout your pregnancy that he would be the best father there is, and you’d be there to help him, but he had no trust in himself whatsoever. the only thing that he knew for sure was. that no matter how hard it gets, he would never leave and put you and your kid through the same thing he went through.

even with all this, he was still the best person to have by your side during your pregnancy. he always tried to make sure that you’re comfortable, placing a pillow behind your back, head, and legs or he’d cover you with a blanket. he would get you whatever you’re craving, and if it wasn’t in the house, he would go and get it from the supermarket no matter the time.

he would constantly read books about parenting and pregnancy, making sure you get the best treatment. whenever you’d pat your belly, he’d get worried that you pat a little harder than you should, telling you to be more careful.

i feel like he would be the type of person to talk to your unborn child, like whenever he disagrees with you or just saying smth sweet to the baby like “we can’t wait to see you” or “see that? your mom wants to name you paul” he laughs as he makes fun of you with the baby.

when the child is born, hes definitely the type of dad to force everyone to wash the hands, wipes, and sanitize at least three times each before letting anyone touch the baby, including you.

for the first month or so after you give birth, he would always be the one to get up in the middle of the night for the baby, telling you to get your rest. after a while, he is literally prepared to play rock paper scissors with you at 3 in the morning to see who’ll get up.

you know that trick that almost every dad does when they toss their kid like 5 feet up in the air and catch them, giving all the moms a heart attack? yeah, he invented that trick. you’ve probably seen your baby in the air more than you’ve seen it in someone’s arms or the stroller or smth.

i truly believe that when the baby babbles, he babbles back. like the baby would say smth in gibberish and james would mimic the baby, conversing in their own language. or james would also respond with stuff like an exaggerated “no way!!” or “what else happened, tell me more”

he probably would’ve been rooting for a boy. he would be sooooooo excited if you had a boy, already planning on causing a lot of mischief with him.

he would teach his son how to play sports and guitar and all the stuff he’s interested in. james would race him and play wrestling games with him and pretend to lose.

even though he wanted a boy, when his little girl came, he would instantly change his mind, hoping that every future kid that comes would be a girl.

from day one and he would shower her with kisses and gifts, making sure she gets treated like the princess she is.

james definitely has tea parties with his little girl. he’d let her put hair clips in his hair, paint his nails a messy pink and accessories him in plastic beaded necklaces and bracelets. or whenever they’d play with dolls, he would speak in a high pitched voice like a girl’s voice after his daughter would force him to.

james would show up at every ballet practice and recital ever, refusing to not show up at a single thing. he would pick her up and drop her off at her practices, loving how his little girl comes running to him with open arms during every break she has. he’ll never miss the look his daughter had in her face when she spotted her parents in the crowd during her show, her eyes glinting as her smile brightened.

when she’s done with her dance, she’d leap into her father’s arms, you and james cradling her in a hug. “you were amazing princess. that was awesome!!” james would compliment her.

i feel like no matter what gender the baby is, they would want to be just like their dad in every way. the long hair, the band shirts, his guitar skills. whenever you see james around the house, you’d spot his little carbon copy waddling behind him in a custom ‘Metallica’ shirt and sunglasses that practically swallow your baby’s face.

when his kid is a little older, he’d want you to bring them to one of his shows, wanting his kid to see him on stage. he’d even show off his toddler to the crowd, showing off the newest member of the hetfield clan to the world.

this is me speaking off of real experiences btw

#he’d be such a cute dad i cant #metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield metallica #james hetfield fanfic #james hetfield x reader #asks and replies #james hetfield headcannons

[loulouwrites]

BIRTHDAYS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: birthdays are a big event in the solomons household - especially when it's alfie's favourite daughter's big day. warnings: swearing, children being children, comlicated family dynamics, fluff, alfie loves all his children equally (honest), unedited word count: 2.2k a/n: nobody asked for this but here's a lil birthday story. this is the last of the prewritten stories but there's definitely more to come. ( i wrote this three melatonin deep so, if it makes no sense, forgive me!)

Alfie woke up to what felt like a ton of bricks being thrown onto his stomach.

"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, the bed bouncing up and down, jostling him from his sleep.

"Fucking hell," a little voice giggled from beside him and his eyes shot open at the sound. His daughter was kneeling beside him on the bed, already dressed for the day, wearing a frilly dress that reminded Alfie of a trifle, and pink ribbons in her - usually - wild hair.

"It's by birthday, dad," Bessie laughed, still bounching up and down on the bed.

"Have you already had your cake, Bess?" Alfie sat up begrudginly, leaning against the headboard, holding his arms out so Bessie could climb in his lap.

"Waiting for daddy," she pointed a finger at him in a way that reminded him of her mother, she was going through a phase of imitating everybody around her - it was endearing when she imitated her mum, less so when she imitated him.

"Well, we best get a move on, then," he swung his feet out of the bed, dragging the now three year old with him, her laughter drowning out the groan he let out due to the strain in his back from carrying the girl that seemed to get heavier everyday.

He carried her into the kitchen, ruffling Benjamin's hair as he passed him, the boy sitting quietly at the table eating his breakfast.

"Alfie, put her down," his wife warned as she fussed with the cake on the bench, little Noah perched on her hip, sucking on his thumb, taking in the scene. He was the calmest of the three children so far, he was only four months old, but Alfie swore he was going stay like that until adulthood - always calm, always studying those around him.

Alfie obeyed his wife, placing Bessie gently on the ground and walking to approach his wife, his daughter following close behind him, eyes fixed on the cake her mother was almost done perfecting.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then one on little Noah's hair, not oblivious to the toddler gripping onto his leg. He eyed the cake suspiciously, the colourful icing and decorations feeling like an assault on his eyes.

"What happened to a Vicky sponge? When did these things have to get all fancy?" He lifted a finger to touch the cake, but his hand was swatted away before he could reach - and ruin - it.

"It's the fashion now, old man, you need to get used to it," she smiled, raking her eyes up and down his body, her eyes narrowing. "Why aren't you dressed? It's nearly ten, Alf, party starts at twelve."

"Fuckin' hell, I'll go now," he groaned, reaching down to pick up Bessie from her place beside him, muttering to her as they left the kitchen together. "Your mum is so horrible on birthdays."

"Mum is horrible," Bessie laughed along, not really knowing what she was saying.

"It's not fair! Bessie got more presents than I did," Benjamin huffed, arms crossed over his chest from his seat on the sofa, his mother rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Will you stop your whining?" Alfie spoke to his son, he was sat cross legged on the floor, helping Bessie open the perfectly wrapped presents, the floor covered in floral wrapping paper.

His mother leaned in to her son's side, pulling him to her gently. "Yours were more expensive," she winked, earning a smile from the boy.

"A baby!" Bessie laughed as she opened her final present, the fabric doll with bright red hair and rosy cheeks making Alfie jump from his seat on the floor.

"Fuckin' hell," he took the doll from his daughter's hands, holding it up to show the other three people in the room. "It's uglier than Benny when he was born."

"Alfie!-"

"Dad-"

The mother and son chastised the man, the little girl throwing her head back as she laughed.

"We're the only one's with a sense of humour in this house, Bess," he muttered, handing the ugly doll back to her.

The doorbell rang at exactly twelve, and Alfie answered with Bessie dangling upside down in his arms.

"Oh, it's you," he said flatly when he saw the woman on the other side of the door.

"Bubbee!" Bessie shrieked, wriggling to get out of her father's grip, and he let her down as gently as possible, which wasn't easy considering she was upside down. Bessie slid ungracefully to the floor, picking herself up, unphased, throwing her arms around her grandmother.

"Happy birthday, Elisabeth," she smiled, and Alfie rolled his eyes, Bessie's head turned to him, a frown on her face.

"Who's Lisabeth?"

"Come in," Alfie turned before the woman could respond, speaking under his breath, "or fuck off home, I don't care."

"I hope I'm not too early," the older woman spoke as she trailed behind him. "I was told twelve."

Alfie ignored her, stalking into the kitchen where his wife was pulling some form of baked good out of the oven - she went overboard in his opinion.

"Your mother's here," he said in an overly cheerful tone, gesturing to where the woman stood behind him.

"Hello-"

The woman interrupted her daughter's greeting, moving to inspect the birthday cake that was now presented on a crystal stand on the kitchen table.

"Is this the cake?" She raised a brow, and Alfie lifted his head to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. "It's awfully fancy, you were lucky if you got a Victoria sponge."

His head snapped to his wife, who was now standing with a sly grin on her face.

"It's funny you should say that mum, because Alfie-"

"It ain't fancy at all," Alfie interrupted with a scoff. "Anyways, our Elisabeth deserves the best, don't ya, Lis?" He scopped his daughter up in his arms.

"Who is Lis?" She frowned.

The doorbell rang, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

"Thank fuck for that," Alfie sighed, carrying Bessie to answer the door for the second time.

In hindsight, inviting twenty people with twenty toddlers into their home wasn't the best idea. The house had been filled with screams of laughter and terror for the better part of two hours, and it was driving Alfie mental.

He didn't really like kids, he thought they were dirty, messy and stupid. His children were the exeption, they were clever and clean - even four month old Noah had better manners than some of these three year olds. If Bessie's birthday taught him anything, it was that the only children he liked were his own.

"You want a drink, Alf?" His wife's brother? cousin? asked him holding up a glass of whiskey from the other side of the living room.

"Don't touch it...mate," Alfie declined, shaking his head in disgust at the gesture. He was telling the truth, this day not only marked the birth of his daughter, but the last time he had a sip of alcohol - determined not to have a repeat of three years ago. He was proud himself for that, he had never been a big drinker, even in his younger days, but he never felt obligated to swear off the stuff until the day Bessie was born - whether it was because he felt genuine guilt, or the reoccuring nightmare regarding Ms Abrams and that Charles Dickens book, he wasn't too sure.

Bessie was asleep next to him on the sofa when his wife approached with a cup of tea, the little girl's mouth open, pink icing still smeared across her face, it was the first time she'd fallen asleep before her bedtime since the day she was born.

"Your family drinks too much," Alfie eyed the fathers in the corner of the room, growing more rowdy as the minutes ticked by, the expensive bottle of whiskey he bought his wife for his birthday now empty, barely a drop left.

She raised a brow at him, "is that a fucking joke? A Solomons is saying my family drinks too much?"

"We sell, we don't drink."

"You don't drink, your cousins on the other hand?" She shook her head as if she were trying to shake the thought of his family away. She had only met them a handful of times, at weddings or funerals, and she was happy to keep their interactions at a minimum, lest she receive another black eye from being shoved away during a drunken scuffle.

"My family are fun," Alfie protested, though there was no real fight in his tone. "Yours are drunk and stuck up."

"It's a three year old's birthday, Alfie. I'd take drunk and stuck up over hammered and violent."

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, his family was fun, though she would never admit it.

He kicked everyone out at five. throwing his arms up as he herded them out of the house, wishing them well and thanking them for coming, not caring about their response.

"Yeah, bye now, Rachel, by now," he said, closing the door on his wife's aunt before she could say anything in response. He slumped against the closed against the closed door, his forehead pressing into the cool wood, closing his eyes relishing the sound of silence.

"Alfie."

"Fuck," he shouted, spinning around to face his mother-in-law, who was stood directly behind him, her hat on her head and gloves on her hands. "You leavin' so soon?"

"It was nice seeing you, Alfie but I don't want to overstay my welcome," she offered him a strained smile.

"You?" His eyes widened, a fake smile on his face. "Never." He opened the door for her, not waiting until she had fully passed the threshold before slamming it shut.

The family were sat in the living room in silence, the chaotic mess surrounding them completely forgotten as they savoured the calmnmess that enveloped the house since the last guest left.

Bessie was still flat out at Alfie's side, Noah sleeping against his mother's chest.

"Dad?" Benjamin said from Alfie's other side, and Alfie opened one eye to glance at his son. "Is Bessie your favourite?"

"Now what makes you think that?" Alfie opened both of his eyes, sitting up carefully as to not wake the birthday girl.

"You say it all the time."

"Well...yeah, I suppose I do," he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No, she isn't, because I don't have a favourite."

Benajamin offered his father a skeptical look, one that clearly said 'I don't believe you.'

Okay, the truth is, your sister needs more reassurance than you do," he gestured his son to lean in, whispering in his ear, "you're my real favourite."

Benjamin smiled a toothy smile, jumping up from the sofa and happily running up the stairs to his bedroom.

His wife grinned at him from the seat across from him.

"Liar," she whispered.

It was six o'clock when the doorbell rang, and everybody's head lifted to glance at the door from the dining room table.

"Now, who could that be?" Alfie rose dramatically from his chair, his eyes flickering in between his two oldest children, "I wonder if it's Bessie and Benjamin's big present." He strode towards the front door, ignoring his wife's panicked calling of his name.

"About time," he spat at Ollie, motioning for him to come inside, the present following behind the two men apprehensively.

The children were sat up straight in their seats when he returned to the dining room, a smile on his face, their hopeful expressions turning into ones of pure joy when they saw the four legged creature sat at his feet, panting happily.

"Please don't hurt me," Ollie whispered, his eyes fixed on the woman sat at the dining table, a scowl on her face.

"A doggy!" Bessie screamed, jumping down from her chair and running to kneel in front of the animal, Benjamin following her happily.

"It's fucking massive, Alfie," his wife spat, her arms crossed across her chest. "Where did it even come from?"

"Funny story that," he pointed to the Ollie, then to the dog. "Ollie found it, behind the bakery, getting beaten half to death by some cunt, poor thing...truly fucked up what happened to it...and Ollie brought it into the bakery," his wife glared at him but he continued on, "yesterday all this happened, why I was so late home."

"What happened to the owner, dad?" Benjamin asked, patting the happy dog on its head, laughing as she leaned in to lick his face gratefully.

"Well..." Alfie cocked his head to the side, "gave 'im a little warning, didn't I? He won't be harmin' no more dogs, let's put it that way."

"Can we keep her, mum?" Benjamin asked.

"Well I can't say no now, can I?" She huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, unmoved by her children's cheers.

"What's her name?" Bessie asked, hugging the dog around its broad shoulders.

"She don't have one, yet, thought the birthday girl should choose," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't she look a bit like bubbee?"

"Bubbee!" Bessie squealed, "Name's bubbee!" The dog lurched up at the sound of her new name, knocking the toddler back as it licked her face gently.

"Fucking hell!" Bessie laughed, and her mother's eyes widened.

Alfie's eyes locked with his wife's, and he pointed to the little girl.

"Favourite," he mouthed.

#alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons fanfic