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em-prentiss · 3 days

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Ice cold

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In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

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The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you.

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth.

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says.

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt.

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice.

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place.

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out.

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up.

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state.

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows.

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in.

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?”

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again.

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

#emily is crying in the club lmfaoo #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #soft aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabble

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days

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End of the World IV

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Caitlin Foord x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas in Australia

Before Christmas, there was an argument.

Ma wanted to take you with her for Christmas but Mammy also wanted to take you.

There was a big argument, like how there's always an argument when Ma and Mammy are in the same room.

You end up with Mammy though because she was doing more 'child safe' things. That means you're in Australia with her and Caitlin.

Australia is hot at Christmas and you don't think you like that. Mammy had to buy you a whole new wardrobe because your summer clothes are stuck in boxes in the loft and Mammy couldn't get them out in time because Ma decided too late to let you go with her.

You're on a beach right now, digging your toe into the sand in unease as Mammy tries to get you to step foot in the sea.

You shake your head. "No."

"Kiddo," She says," Come on. It's just the ocean. It won't hurt you."

You keep shaking your head. "Ma said that Australia's oceans have sharks that will eat me."

Katie sighs deeply, cursing Ruesha in her mind before Caitlin steps forward.

"I can look after her," She says," At least until you're done swimming."

"Are you sure?" Katie checks. She knows that Caitlin is still a little wary around you and she doesn't want to make either of you feel awkward.

"It's fine," Caitlin insists," We'll have fun in the sand. It'll be good."

You're still holding your bucket and spade as Caitlin leads you away from Mammy. You sniffle a little bit as Mammy paddles out into the sea leaving you with Caitlin alone.

She sets you up next to the towels and the big basket of stuff she and Mammy brought with. You stare at her. She stares back.

"So," Caitlin says," Do you want to make a sandcastle?"

You sniffle.

Caitlin's eyes go wide.

"Wait! No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you sad! We don't need to make sandcastles!"

You burst into tears and Caitlin grows even more panicked.

"Is it the sand? We can go and sit on the steps!"

"Mammy!" You whine, reaching out towards Katie has disappeared into the sea," Mammy's gone!"

Caitlin follows your gaze. "Oh, she's not gone. She's just out swimming."

"Mammy!" You cry again, tears spilling down your cheeks," The sharks are gonna get her!"

"They won't," Caitlin tries to assure you.

"They will!" You insist," Ma said the sharks in Australia are always in the sea."

Cautiously, Caitlin reaches out for you. She gently manoeuvres you into her lap and you let her. "See that lifeguard there?" She points at a man in a big chair," And that building over there? They make sure that sharks aren't in the water."

"Really?"

"Yep," Caitlin says," If any sharks swim in then they tell everyone so no one goes in the water."

You wipe your nose on the towel that's been wrapped around you. "Promise?"

"I promise, kiddo. Katie'll be very safe. Do you want to build a sandcastle now?"

You shake your head, fisting the strap of Caitlin's swimsuit. "No thank you. Stay like this please."

Caitlin tries not to let her shock show as she nods. "Sure, yeah, we can stay like this."

Katie isn't quite sure what to say when she gets out of the water to see Caitlin trying to sunbathe with a limp and sleeping you lying on her chest.

"Hey," Katie says, with a little smile," What's all this then?"

"She was convinced the sharks were going to eat you," Caitlin replies with an eye roll, gently tracing patterns against your back," But she's fine now."

"Well," Katie says," I think that's our cue to head back and have our own naps. She's dead to the world right now."

"What about lunch?"

Katie shrugs as she very carefully picks you up, adjusting you so your head is buried in her neck. "We can get a late lunch afterwards. The little miss needs an actual pillow to rest her head." She looks down at you with a wince. You're truly, deeply asleep. "And maybe a pull up too."

Caitlin and Katie end up asleep as well and Katie wakes up groggy to small hands shaking her shoulder.

Caitlin's arm is thrown over her shoulder as she blinks awake.

"Kiddo?" She asks," What's wrong?"

"I'm hungry, Mammy," You say," Can we have lunch now?"

"Yeah, we can get lunch. Let me just get Caitlin up."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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gay-dorito-dust · 17 hours

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Hm… Have you ever think about Aventurine, Sunday and Dan heng with fem reader that has chubby cheeks?

When you’re eating, they can’t stop looking at your cheeks that keep puff and being squishy. You remind them of small hamster, really cute.

Give your cheek a playful bite, squish your cheeks like a stressball for him, or nuzzle his cheek against your?

I love chubby cheeks… and my hsr husband and waifu;)

Aventurine would absolutely adore the fuck out of your chubby cheeks, especially when they’re being squished and tugged between his fingers.

It was his favourite pastime that he’d gladly trade everything else for if he ever were to choose to do one thing for the rest of his life.

He’d prod your cheek if you weren’t giving him enough attention for his liking and find himself fascinated at the way they recoiled.

If Aventurine were a cat, you’d be the laser of the laser pointer that he’s trying his hardest to catch because that’s how invested in your cheeks he was.

Now would Aventurine nibble your cheeks? Yes and he would act indifferent about it too as he shrugs his shoulders as a mischievous smile graced his lips. ‘I must’ve mistook your chubby cheeks as a sweet treat, oops.’ He’d say and you knew he wasn’t in any regard remorseful of his actions.

He’d do it again in a heartbeat but he really does love your cheeks and won’t let you or anyone say anything bad about them, ever.

Sunday

Find your chubby cheeks endearing and cute.

He gives your cheeks the most affection, whether it’s kissing them, caressing them with his fingertips or even giving them a playful nibble as he laughs when you squeal.

‘I cannot help it my sweet, your cute plush cheeks were left unguarded to my attack.’ He chuckles as he kisses your cheeks again, loving how they felt under his lips that he couldn’t help but take another nibble.

When he’s stressed, he would sit himself in front of you, hold your face and begins playing with your chubby cheeks with the most focused look on his face. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t playing with your cheeks as though they were mouldable as clay.

You: hard day sweetie?

Sunday, pinching and prodding your cheeks: what gave that away my beloved.

You: just a guess.

Your cheeks would be aching for days afterwards but at least Sunday makes up for it by massaging them and smothering them in affection.

Dan Heng has found himself developing cuteness aggression because of your cute fucking cheeks! How dare you!

He tries to act nonchalant when staring at you when eating, his eyes focusing in on how your cheeks would puff up, much like a chipmunks would when stuffing their cheeks with food for the winter. However he must’ve not been subtle enough for the lenses of march’s camera with the amount of pictures taken that day.

He just wanted to squish your cheeks really, really badly and maybe even chomp on them a little, a thought brought about thanks to his dragon noodle side, but he restrained himself from doing so out of respect for you and your boundaries.

However don’t be surprised when he goes and nuzzles his cheek against your own in his sleep and purring a little also. He may even lightly bite your cheek in the process while you were unaware, so when you bring up the teeth marks on your cheek, Dan Heng felt his face flush with heat as he looks away from you and scratched his nose.

You knew it was him but found his expressions of getting caught too adorable to scold him for the fact that you now had to spend the day with people asking if you been bitten by a cat or something in your sleep.

‘Yeah…sure.’ You’d trail off as you side glance Dan Heng, who kept his back to you, knowing damn well you were staring at him as his movements came off as more stiff than normal.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail imagine #honaki star rail imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine imagine #aventurine imagines #aventurine x you #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #Dan heng imagine #Dan heng imagines

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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 1 day

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Sleepless nights

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - you go on a routine mission which ends badly how will your girlfriend react

Warnings - gunshots, violence, bullet wounds, mention of stitches, likely medically incorrect, blood, hospital? Not proofread

word count - 1.5k

A/n - I dont know what happened while writing this its all a blackout. As always any feedback is rlly appreciated!!!

It was just supposed to be another simple routine mission. Over and done with in a matter of hours. But of course nothing was ever as easy as predicted.

It had all been going with relative ease until you and Clint were fighting off agents left and right. Something you were usually both good at. However where you'd found yourselves was very much enclosed meaning you couldn't run and you had no idea how many or where these agents were coming from. Your backs were against each other as you moved in circular motions around the room.

"You did this you know, everything was going just fine until you said 'wow this mission has been quite the breeze.'" You mimick Clints earlier words in a squeaky high pitched voice while taking out a couple agents. "Couldn't have just waited till we were on the quinjet could you?"

"Look I really thought it was over. At least I wasn't the one who knocked over the vase alerting everyone in the Tri-state area of our location." He pipes back as you both fall into the usual bickering banter you often did, squabbling like small children. You and Clint had always been close and worked well with each other despite the constant pecking at each other. You'd become even closer once you'd gotten together with his best friend Natasha. Well, after he stopped threatening you about breaking her heart that is.

"Okay well atleast I'm not stupid."

"Yeah real mature. What does that even mean?" He retorts back with a chuckle at how quickly you begin to lose an argument and just throw childish insults at him.

"I thought you'd be smart enough to understand a simple senten-.." You trail off as you see an agent aiming at Clint, one he hadn't noticed. Though you considered letting the agent hit him and getting to be considered the better fighter it wasn't worth letting your friend die just to one up him.

"Clint watch out." You yell frantically as you watch the agent take aim. Clint wasn't going to have time to move. You panicked and shoved him to the floor knocking him from the bullet.

You don't think much of it when you don't see the bullet land or even when you vision blurs. It's only you notice somethings up when you see a blood splattering on your hand. Instinctively you look for Clint worried something hit him but you find him staring right back at you. That's when you feel the searing pain from your hip. Placing a hand over it to find out what's wrong, you feel a cold and wet substance spilling from it.

Thats when everything starts spinning. Moving too quick but not fast enough at all. The pain feeling worse, like nothing you've ever felt before as the adrenaline wears off and the severity of the situation sets in.

"Y/n look at me." Clints voice is grounding and calm making you briefly feel better. "There's no agents left okay. We're going to walk together to the quinjet, don't rush yourself it's going to be okay." You nod along even though your unsure you'll be able to walk that far as your vision fades in and on like a flickering TV.

He moves over to you and presses your hand firmly over the wound. "Keep your hand there and apply as much pressure as you can." Despite the way you stumble around as you try to apply any pressure at all to the wound he still sounds calm like he believes you can do this.

His hand hooks around you helping hold you up as the two of you begin a slow walk back. Things aren't looking too bad at first I mean sure you can hardly see infront of you an everytime you open your mouth to speak the only thing that sounds is a groan of pain but your managing it, you feel yourself believe you'll be able to do this walk back.

That is all before you trip over a stone which sends you tumbling onto your front, directly where the bullet wound is is where you hit the hardest when you fall causing you to scream out in pain with a noise you never knew you'd make. Clint immediately tries to pull you back to your feet while telling you how close you are to getting home but it's no use as your body goes stiff, legs refusing to move.

"Natasha is gonna kill me." I mumble half heartedly as he holds me up and my vision fades for what I believe might be the final time.

"Not if she kills me first." He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Two days. Two whole days they said you were out for. You missed two days. Two days where you didn't see Natasha but she saw you, she sat by you every minute she could and when she couldn't sit anymore she slept by you not leaving for a second. She wouldn't even leave your hospital room for food. Clint having to practically force food down her throat so she didn't end up in a hospital bed alongside you.

You blinked awake. You'd been awake about an hour prior but were too drugged up to process anything going on and had quickly fallen back into your slumber. This time you were much more determined to stay awake, that and your pain medication was wearing off and you could begin to feel a sharp pain replacing the previously dull one.

As you woke yourself up to the bright white fluorescent lights of the hospital, those lights which practically felt blinding. Giving you little time to adjust to being awake, Natasha started speaking.

"So what happened?" She sounded angry. A little rough maybe as the Russian tinged her accent slightly in a way you only heard few times. As you located where her voice had come from, a small chair just to the left of your bed. Now that you could see her she seemed more worn out or stressed out the angry. Dark circles lurked under her eyes as her forhead creased showing visible lines.

"Uh.. didn't uhm.. Clint... tell you." You slowly mumble out as you try to push myself into a sitting position but before you can Natasha is up and pushing you back down to lie down.

"The doctor said you can't sit up yet or you'll move the stitches. And no he hasn't explained anything, so you better." She lays your head back on the pillow with such a contrasting softness to the way she's speaking which is almost as if she's interrogating you.

You roll your head over the side to face her as you recount what you remember from the mission. "So basically me and Clint, well especially me are kicking ass knocking these agents to the ground. But then one aims at Clint and I push him out the way and now we're here." You explain the best you can but it's just so difficult when your heads all fuzzy and until five minutes ago you were convinced you were dead. "I thought I was gonna die 'Tasha."

"You shouldn't put yourself at risk like that baby." She says while brushing stray hairs away from your face and back behind your ears. "Things could have been a lot worse.." her voice trails off all usual roughness gone as she appears as if she may break down crying at any second. "I could have lost you."

That's all it takes for you to start crying as hot tears stream your face making it hard to see anything. Seeing your deteriorating emotional state Natasha makes the descion to crawl into the bed next to you. "Oh hush now, it's alright. I was just worried about you lyubov." she coos while leaning over to kiss your dampened cheek.

"I know I know.. I'm just really sorry... I dont ever want to lose you Natasha." Your tears keep falling despite her soft, reassuring words.

"Y/n, I don't want to lose you either. Which is why I think it could be time we retired before either of us do. Of course it's up to you though, I won't pressure you."

It takes you a minute to process her words but when you do your glad for them. You'd been considering at least cutting down your workload recently but hadn't considered Natasha would be open to retirement at such a young age. You can feel your face break out into a small smile as she suggests it herself. Her own face is one of nervous apprehension as she chews on her lip.

"Yes. Please I want nothing more than to retire and with you." You reach in to kiss her face eagerly. Your lips smothering hers in an almost desperate fashion as if you were worried it could be your last.

"If this is what retirement is like I cant wait." She whispers as she pulls away from your lips, nipping them gently first. She cups your face in her hands before leaning back in.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha x y/n #hurt/comfort natasha Romanoff #lemonade writes☆•#possibly terrible #im half asleep again

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luffyandaceswife · 2 days

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𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄

𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬! (short :3)

warnings!fluff, cussing.. me ranting fr

This is the result of a poll i did about two days ago

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Luffys favorite thing to do is cling to you like a monkey, wrapping his rubber arms around you multiple times, only stopping when you complain his grip too tight

Luffy has no concept of personal space, he will CONSTANTLY be next to you, on top of you, under you, you name it! It’s like he thinks you would disappear if he took his eyes off you.

Even though Luffy is quite (slow??) with topics of girls beauty he still thinks of you as the most beautiful woman he laid his eyes on, not even because of your looks but for your personality, he’s 100% that guy

Luffy is a Big eater obviously and he never ever shares his food but with you he will offer small portions of his own food to you even if you have your own, it’s 100% him thinking about you and showing it in his own way.

Luffy tends to (“Share???”) or “show off” You to everyone else, for example: “HEY GUYS! look how pretty (Reader) Looks in this dress!”

Luffy doesn’t really understand the concept of veins a gentleman but he would at-least try to learn for you and it’s the cutest thing ever, like if you guys ever go out on a date which probably never happens because 1. he’s luffy 2. the crew and 3. the world government up yalls asses constantly but if it ever did happen he would listen to sanji talk for hours about being a gentleman and try to be one. (lovingly..) His stupid ass would 100% fuck up but laugh it off.

Sleeping with this man is legit so hard to do, he always has his body in some fuck ass way of sleeping, like his head will be at the end of the hammock/mattress and his feet would be on the pillows, but if your there he is clinging to you and either not moving or moving but taking you with him.

He tends to fall asleep in your lap if you play with his hair or play with his stretchy skin, just being with you makes this man content!

Dating him is like having a genuine toddler! it’s Luffy what would you expect-..

He doesn’t really have the attention span to get bandaged after a battle or is constantly moving so chopper has to have you hovering over his ass to keep him still😭🙏

If anything happend to you this man would stop at NOTHING to get you back, like what happens with nami in strong world but much worse.

(Ion have many more.. cough.. sfw ones but yeah!)

#one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece #fanfic #luffy #fluff #luffy x reader #mugiwara no luffy #op luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #straw hat luffy #one piece luffy #headcanon #Spotify

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daylite-writes · 1 day

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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader

At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…

cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.

1k words

~~~

“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.

You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”

“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”

You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.

Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.

You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.

When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.

Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.

It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?

A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.

Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.

You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.

He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.

You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”

You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.

“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”

“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”

It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.

At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.

You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.

He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”

He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.

He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.

Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!

#yandere tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere ajax #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe x reader

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moumouton4 · 1 day

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Protect What Matters To You || Sasuke Uchiha x fem!reader

A/n : I decided to finish the fic I started 2 months ago before the 3 weeks of exams start soon

Masterlist ⚜

Warning : None just fluff, though mention of worshiping and a surprise

Summary : You and your boyfriend are walking in the streets of Konohagakure today, though he feels a little more protective than he usually is. But something unexpected will stir his emotions

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 684

He had always been the protective one. Always glaring when people got too close to you, he would take a step closer until your sides touched. At times, his hand would clutch around your wrist or at your hip if he was in the mood for light pda, his cloak flapping like a shield around you.

At first, it was a bit tricky to keep up with, you had just started dating and all this was very new to him. He was one to easily get overwhelmed by his feelings, even though he was pretty gifted to hide it. After some time and some more discussions just the two of you, he came to terms with the usual ways of dealing with such situations. Besides after a while everyone knew you two were dating so they always thought twice before disrespecting you in any ways. Unfortunately for them - and Sasuke’s nerves - not everyone had this presence of mind.

He had seen them coming from afar, actually he did spot them from the moment they started walking down the path to Konohagakure marketplace. His eyes instinctively narrowed at the loud people that walked your way. Four boys of about 15 years old, chatting and laughing loudly as they made a din going down the narrow path leading to the marketplace.

As per usual, his ninja instinct kicked in as he studied them, his hand never loosening the grip it had on you. And as they got closer it only grew stronger and tighter. He glared at them, his Sharingan threatening to come to life as he tried to channel his protectiveness. The boys continued laughing together and pushing one another in some sort of fake battle, clearly not minding anything nor anyone around them.

And what had to happen happened, inadvertently one of the boys who just shoved his friend to the side ended up bumping into you. Being the robust kunoichi you were, the impact didn’t make you budge an inch, your eyes didn’t even widen because to be fair you had been looking at them from the same time Sasuke started, you just knew something like this could happen. Just like when you walk on the beach and walk near people playing football there, you just know you are going to get hit by the ball.

Though it seems Sasuke didn’t expect something like this could happen. Everything went very quickly. Instead of looking at the careless kids you immediately caught Sasuke’s wrist, whose Sharingan flared to life in an instant.

“Sasuke no, it’s fine” you reassured your boyfriend, gently pulling at his arm as he tried to take a step towards them. Fortunately your gentle words convinced him and he relented. Though his eyes followed the kids in a mix of silent threat if this were to ever happen again. He just couldn't help it when it came to you.

After the teenagers completely disappeared from his view he turned his head back to you, trying to keep his stoic façade, but he couldn't prevent the deep sigh that escaped his parted lips. Lately Sasuke has been very tense to say the least “You’re sure you’re alright ? And don’t underestimate it” he instructed.

You smiled at him “Yeah there’s nothing to worry about”

“Sure ?” he pressed on, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach.

“Absolutely” you said feeling another rush of warmth as he started making slow circular motion, in a soothing manner - though it seemed he was trying to soothe himself as well - on the little swell that has started to subtly show for the past 3 weeks “He or she is perfectly fine”

A small smile spread on his lips at your reassurance. Without saying anything more, he brought his other hand to your lower back, reluctantly taking his hand off your abdomen before guiding you back on the path you were taking minutes ago. Now he was going to take you back home, where his nerves would ease a little, and where he would be able to worship your like the queen he knows you are.

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto x reader #naruto fluff #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden fluff #sasuke uchiha #sasuke uchiha imagine #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha fluff #sasuke #sasuke imagine #sasuke x reader #sasuke fluff #fluff #miri-writes

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maenecoon · 2 days

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tw (mostly mild) depictions of violence and blood, bc it's involves vampires, also major spoilers for a fic im working on rn

i may or may not have a vampire kimchay fic idea

except the execution of it is going to have me combusting into flames??

anyways, thoughts about kim finding an annoying baby bat in the forest. he wants to ignore it, but he can't. so fine, he takes it in.

except...

kim definitely doesn't know how to care for a feral bat.

anyways! cue sweet/fluffy/bat-and-vampire shenanigans! like babybat so sated with blood that he becomes a little drunk, or at least the bat-version of drunk. babybat who flies into the window trying to escape because he's not good at echolocatio. babybat who sneaks into kim's closets to bite holes in every single one of his silk shirts.

vampire!kim somehow being whipped af for this cute but annoying little shit that he's somehow adopted. feeds him blood pudding and gives him many head scritches. shows him his red string murder board and rambles about his murder plans and all. vampire!kim who started off detesting or tolerating this pest at best but unable to imagine starting a day without the weight of babybat curled up on his chest.

then the murder plan happens. kim wants korn (his father/sire) dead, bc who doesn't, and he sneaks in to "kill" him.

he's gone in, wooden stake and holy water and all.

he goes bat-shit crazy. bodies of full-sized vampires drop to the floor around them as kim works with ruthless efficiency. he's memorised the techniques of his father's men and their weaknesses. he's dreamed about this for centuries. and it's pays off.

and then enters korn.

korn was always going to be the issue.

kim had no plans of returning alive - he knows to end lorn by all means necessary even if it means his own life - but korn has gotten more powerful. sire bonds are difficult to break, and even if kim has been diluting the bond and doing his absolute best to weaken their link, korn still has kim in an iron grip.

(if you'd read my phayurain vampire fic, there's this thing about sires being able to control their fledglings because of a bond they share when a vampire (sire) turns someone into a vampire (their fledgling). )

anyways.

when suddenly a weight in his pocket starts to stir. it's the little shit, the bat. and kim's all panicked because little shit is small and harmless and now barely the size of half his palm? like, kim's on his knees and has his hands shaking with effort not to plunge the stake into his own chest, by the command of korn.

it takes just a second, but bat flutters out of kim's pocket. bat, with all the rage that a bat can muster, swings himself right on korn's face and digs his fangs into korn's eyes. the eyes are part of what maintains the sire-control that korn has over kim, and kim is able to use that split second to drive the stake into korn's heart.

the moment that korn falters, falling to the ground with a thud, is the moment that the bat drops to the floor.

kim thinks like yeah, fuck, that must've taken a lot out of this poor baby bat, and god that fall looked bad, when all of a sudden the bat is expanding. almost like his bones are breaking (and kim winces because that sounds anguishing) and reforming and he keeps growing bigger and bigger and bigger until kim realised that this was no bat.

this was a vampire, trapped in the form of a bat.

this is his fledgling, his fledgling who was supposed to have died.

chay.

yeah anyways!! fun little story that i'm working on rn!! lmk what you think/want to see, if you got to the end of this! !

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dabisair · 1 day

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toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

#dabi x reader #reader x dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #i have a lot of pretty words saved on Pinterest #And this one slapped me in the face #anyway idk what is really going on here but it's going

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dumbass-hyperfixations · 2 days

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I started watching 911 recently (and I’m not gonna lie, it’s mostly because of Buck’s coming out because I wasn’t gonna start watching yet a show with a very potential queerbait in the middle of an otherwise very diverse and interesting looking cast) and I’ve been loving it, and even though I’m only on season 3 now, I really want to contribute with an idea on how the show could start up Eddie’s own coming out journey (which is hopefully in the cards)

Now, I don’t know how much closer Michael Grant gets to everyone else on the show (since I’m on season 3, I haven’t really seen him interact much with anyone but Bobby and Hen from the 118, and idk if that changes or if his relationship with other characters deepens over the years), but I would really like him to be present at Chimney and Maddie’s wedding. And maybe Tommy and Buck are being cute on the dancefloor, and then the camera pans to Eddie, who is seated to the side with Marisol, looking at the pair a little wistfully (just enough for us to know that maybe sitting there with Marisol isn’t exactly what he wants to do). And then, the camera would go to Michael, noticing Eddie’s look, and Marisol’s sort of dejected and bored expression. And he sees a couple that not only appears unhappy with each other, but also sees a whole lot of himself in Eddie.

So, as the wedding reception is coming to a close, Michael is at the bar as Eddie comes by, looking for one more round as the bartender announces the last call. And as he waits for the drink, Michael strikes up a conversation with a bit of small talk (again, idk if they’re close enough to have a deep conversation right off the bat), and then goes, “hey, did Bobby or Athena ever tell you why we got divorced?”

And Eddie stumbles over the answer a bit awkwardly, like yeah, it was because, well, um, you know, because you’re …

And Michael chuckles, putting him out of his misery with a “a flaming homosexual? Yeah. No sense in beating around the bush about it. At least not anymore. You know, I was so deep in denial I never even kissed a man until I was in my fifties?”

“Really? So you’ve … only been with women until you came out?” Eddie asks and Michael nods. “And you’re sure you’re not bisexual?”

To which Michael laughs and reassures him that no, not bisexual, just a very very repressed gay man. Then, he drives his not-so-subtle point home by saying:

“And even still, I don’t have many regrets about my life. I got two incredible kids out of it, and I can’t imagine my life without them. My only regret, though, is that I spent fifteen years with a woman I couldn’t love the way she loved me, and I wasn’t even man enough to give her a chance to look for someone better. Fifteen years. That’s a hell of a lot of time to take away from someone.”

And while he speaks, we see Eddie glance across the room, to Marisol fussing over Chris. And, inevitably, to Buck laughing along with something Chimney said on the other side of the room. And when he looks back at Michael, he sees a very knowing expression on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” Eddies asks, still guarded as hell, to which Michael chuckles.

“Nothing, man. I guess I just officially entered my lonely gay drunk at the bar days. But if I can pass a little wisdom. If can already you feel it in your gut that you’re not with the right person, maybe don’t be like me and spend the next fifteen years trying to figure out what you already know.”

And then he leaves, and BOOM, Eddie is forced to realize things he would much rather keep repressed.

#i know im new to the fandom but gosh #michael and eddie’s stories parallel each other in so many ways #ESPECIALLY IF eddie is going to come out as gay at some point #and i would just die to see michael having his paternal guiding hand in his coming out #it doesn’t even have to be the wedding it could just be a family fire house gathering #just let michael tell his story to eddie and maybe wake him up to non-comphet possibilities in life 😭😭#eddie diaz #911 abc #911 show #gay eddie diaz #buddie #911 buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz

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honey-on-your-tongue · 2 days

Text

Too Close

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Part two

Series masterlist

Blog masterlist

Eight o’clock sharp, you’re standing in the small apartment lobby, staring at the faded paint on the walls chipping. Your outfit of your first day at your new job is simple and classy—or you hope so, at least. A short, white, plaid pencil skirt combined with formal but comfortable shoes, and a plain white button-up blouse that shows your midriff. Your hair is down, just washed, styled in that way that makes you feel most confident.

You’re still nervous. Nervous off your fucking ass. And the prospect of seeing Javi, of having him take you to work, of spending time with him…It makes you flustered. He’s handsome, he’s witty, he’s kind. From what little you’ve met of him until now, he’s just your type.

But…

But he’s older. He’s much older. He must be what? Thirty-four? Thirty-five? Thirty six? Somewhere in between, you guess. And why would a man like him even glance at you? You’re a kid to him. He’s almost twice your age. What are you thinking?

You hear a door opening and keys jingling. A moment later, Javi walks to the lobby in a red button-up tucked into his jeans, a belt holding them up. He’s wearing a jacket and a tie, and he looks…

Fuck, he looks hot, you think, trying not to think about it.

“Mornin’,” he greets, those dark eyes taking in your outfit.

You feel yourself growing a little uneasy, shifting your weight around a tad. “Is this okay?” you ask of your outfit. “Does it get too cold here?”

He shakes his head. “Your outfit’s fine,” he tells you. “But I might need to take you out into the field with me sometimes, and it would probably be better for you to wear something that’s comfortable in case we need to stay out all day.”

You pause. “You're gonna take me into the field?” Your voice should be afraid; instead, you're delighted.

He chuckles. “No where too dangerous,” he promises. “Just little meetings with sources. Nothing for you to worry about. Besides, I'll be there to keep you safe.”

You smile softly. “My grandpa never let the other agents take me out onto the field. He was too afraid of me getting in harm’s way, I guess.”

“Dealing with sources isn't really that dangerous,” he tells you as he places a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the underground parking lot of the building. Tingles brush up your spine. “Worst parts are when we burst into coke labs or hideouts, stuff like that.”

“They're also the most exciting, I bet,” you say. “I mean, dangerous, obviously. But the adrenaline…”

He chuckles. “It's only exciting if you survive,” he points out. “Usually there are more funerals than celebrations after those kinds of raids.”

You're silent for a second. “I…Yeah, you're right.” Your voice turns soft, pensive. Of course it's not some game. What are you thinking? You're seeing it from a journalist’s perspective, not from a DEA agent’s. Raids make great stories, sure. But having to participate in those raids…

You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re now a member of the DEA, not a journalist. The world isn’t only about telling stories now, it’s about living them.

Javier leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you. Immediately, you're blushing again, nervous and flattered. You stutter out a thank-you and Javi chuckles smoothly.

He gets in the driver's seat and, oh, God, if you thought he was hot, watching him drive just about sends you hurling over the edge. The way his aviators give him a mysterious hue, the early-morning sunlight shining through the window as he drives you through Colombia…

His nose, his lips, his jawline…Oh, you want to kiss it all. Kiss his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his lips. Oh, those lips…

You realize you're staring when Javi glances at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You alright there?” he chuckles.

You blush, snapping your head away, glancing out the windshield. “Y-yeah. Fine. I'm just…trying to get a bearing of my surroundings, y'know. I'm gonna have to drive to the embassy myself eventually,” you say quickly, hoping your voice doesn't quiver as much as you think it does.

“I wouldn't mind driving you every morning,” he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. “We leave the same building and get to the same place. Problem would be when we each gotta go our separate ways.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “You work late?” you ask, out of curiosity more than anything.

He chuckles, a sound somewhere between amused and endeared. As if you were a child asking some silly little question. “You…could say that.”

You bite your lower lip, wanting to ask more, but you don't want him to think you're a naïve little girl. You're twenty-three. Not a child.

He's almost twice my age, you think, of course he sees me as a child.

Javi glances at you, noticing the slight pinch between your eyebrows. Did he say something wrong? Did he make you uncomfortable? He has the feeling you want to say more, to ask more. What's holding you back?

“I usually don't have a very regular schedule,” he tells you, hoping to ease your nerves. “It depends a lot on the narcos since we gotta take ‘em by surprise and we never really know where they're gonna be. So we gotta seize any opportunity we get.”

You nod. “Right. It's…Is it stressful? Always guessing where they're gonna be?”

“More than stressful, it's frustrating,” he responds. “Every time we think we're close, they vanish like thin air. Especially Escobar. He's a real tough motherfucker. Careful, ingenious. It's like chasing shadows. Every time we go after him, it's as if he already knows it.”

You pause, turn to him as he stops at a red light. “Every time?” you question.

He nods. “Yeah. We've barely even been close.”

“And you've made sure there are no leaks within the DEA? Or the Colombian military? Because it's a little odd that he can always predict your next move.”

Javier's eyes widen. Of course. How could he not think of that? There's probably someone playing for both sides. A mole filtering information to Escobar. But it would have to be someone close, someone who knows all of their plans.

It's not Carrillo. Carrillo is fully trustworthy, Javier is sure of that. But maybe someone on the Search Bloc, someone new…

He gives you a little smile. “Smart thinkin’,” he tells you. “It would've never occurred to me.”

You shrug as if dismissing your great idea. “I'm a journalist. My work depends on sources and info leaks.”

Smart, gorgeous, witty, humble…

Javier tries to keep himself in check. You're everything a man would want.

But not him. He shouldn't want you. You're so young, there are so many guys out there who would be better for you. He knows that. But, God, what he wouldn't give to get a taste of you…

The day flies by—no, the weeks fly by. Between doing your investigations, adjusting to the new work environment, getting used to living on your own, learning Spanish, and trying not to think about Javier, a month passes in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly you have an established routine, suddenly you're settled in. Suddenly you understand more Spanish and your accent decreases slightly. Suddenly, Colombia is becoming a home to you.

But the deeper you fall into Colombia, the deeper you realize it's a war zone. A small-scale kind of war zone. Sicarios—hitmen—make people disappear without anyone noticing for days.

Only reason you know is because those people are usually your sources.

Javier was right about the work being more frustrating than stressful. It's like sand, slipping right through your fingers. No matter how hard you try to hold onto it, it just seeps away.

You make progress. You know you do. But most days, it doesn't feel like it. Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy, they both respect you. They appreciate you and your contribution to the team. Carrillo, the Colombian coronel, does too. But other men…they're a little sensitive about having a woman working with them.

They doubt you. They catcall you. They assume you got the job by sleeping with some higher-ups. And it pisses you off. You wanna punch them all, curse them, call them out for the disgusting pigs they are.

But you don't. You keep your calm. You're better than them and you know it—they know it. That's why they're anrgy with you. You threaten them. Your presence, your abilities, make them feel insecure. And that brings you a very much deserved wave of satisfaction.

Every new piece of information you bring in, the prouder you are of yourself. Until you realize Escobar keeps getting farther and farther away from the DEA. He buys and kills his way through life, opening himself a pretty little path, a red carpet rolled out at his feet.

Some days, you're upbeat. You feel you're moments away from catching the drug lords. But other days, you feel like you came down to Colombia for nothing.

Today is one of those days.

Late afternoon, everyone leaving the office after yet another failed raid. The warehouse had been emptied even before the DEA team was on its way there.

There's a mole, you think as you put away files with months’ worth of information. There has to be a mole. Someone is talking. Someone is ratting us out. But who?

You exhale thickly, a dull ache spreading behind your eyes. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fuck,” you mutter, stressed, annoyed, frustrated.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You grab a file with a big, red stamp on the front that reads deceased—one of your sources just recently killed by sicarios—and aggressively toss it in the trash can. As if that would solve all your issues.

You don't realize he's standing in the office until he sighs. “Tough day, huh?”

You turn around, jumping a little, to find Javier there. He looks almost as pissed as you must look. More, probably. He's already been here for years and Escobar is still running free.

“Understatement,” you mutter, turning away from him. You grab another file, open it. You read the name. Some Francisco something. You grab a large stamp and press it onto the front page so the word deceased is now there in big, bold letters. You toss that into the trash too.

Javier approaches you slowly. You can feel his presence burning behind you, like warm sun on your nape, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Some of us are going for a drink,” he tells you, voice light and casual. “Just in case you wanna join us.”

You turn to him. “Who's going?”

Me and you, Javier thinks. Just us.

“Alright, fine. I'm going,” he says, chuckling softly, smoothly. “There's a bar downtown that I like to frequent when I don't have the best days. And you—no offense—but you look like you could use a drink.”

A small smile appears on your lips. He wants to kiss the corner where your mouth curls.

He can see it in your eyes, you're thinking it through. Weighing the decision. Maybe if he tips the scale a little…

“On me,” he adds, giving you a little smirk. “Y'know. Just a little something to take the edge off.”

Your smile broadens and he knows he's succeeded.

“Alright,” you agree. “You're driving.”

You don't have to say it. It's become the default. Even though the embassy finally delivered your own car, Javi keeps driving you to and from work. Unless he knows he's going to have to stay out later or go through with a raid in the middle of the night, he always insists you let him drive you.

You always politely tell him it's fine, that you can do it yourself, but he doesn't want you to do it yourself. He wants to drive you. Wants to have you sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Wants to hear you hum along to the songs on the radio. That's become the highlight of his day—you have become the highlight of his every single fucking day.

And he hates himself for it. What is he thinking? You're half his age, you can do so much better than him. He's broken, tarnished. He doesn't need to drag you down with him.

But the way your eyes light up when you see him. The smiles you give him. The way his name rolls off your tongue.

Good God, how many times has he spent too long in the shower, one hand braced against the cold tiles as the water falls onto his back while his other hand fists his cock? Head down, hair wet, eyes shut tight as he thinks of you, of the way you say his name. Your little skirts and gorgeous eyes. Your soft, sweet lips…

Over and over, he spills his release onto the shower wall, thick white ropes that trickle down the drain. He does it until it hurts, until the warm water runs cold, until there’s no more of his come to spend. And yet, no matter how much he does it, it's never enough.

Nothing is enough. Not cold showers, not jerking off for hours, not sleeping with his usual hookers and imagining you. Nothing does it.

If it's not you, it'll never be enough.

He takes you to a small club. A private, luxurious little place. Both of you are still in your work clothes. He watches you remove your blazer and are left in a pretty top and a skirt. You let your hair down, untuck your blouse from your skirt, and suddenly you look different. You look free. And Javier's heart skips because he now feels like he has the opportunity to take you home. To lead you to his bed. To spread your legs and let himself finally taste you, feel you, fuck you…

He leads you to a booth in a corner, comfortable and a little more private than other tables, and you sit across from each other.

He watches you, saying nothing as you look around, studying your surroundings. Music is playing softly in the background, people are talking, glasses are tinkling. But he can only focus on you.

You turn to him, a small smile on your face, those beautiful eyes almost shining. “So, as a regular here, I bet you know the menu by heart. What drink would you recommend?”

He chuckles. “I like to take my whiskey. Not a big fan of fancy, elaborate drinks.” He eyes you for a second, purposely letting the tension grow. “But I'd suggest you order a piña colada. Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.”

Javier notes the blush that forms on your cheeks and he feels proud of himself. He didn't take it too far, just a small flirtatious comment. And already you're all flustered.

God, the look on your face if he were to fuck you in front of a mirror, if he'd spread your legs to see your wet pussy, if he'd touch you, kiss you…

Fuck.

He starts getting hard, his cock bulging against the seam of his pants. He slightly adjusts his jeans to relieve the pressure a little.

A waitress comes over and takes your order. Your drinks arrive not long after.

“How are you adjusting to life down here?” he asks you, sipping his whiskey. Bitter, cold. Just how he likes it.

You sip your piña colada, removing the little umbrella on it. “Well enough,” you reply. “Only thing I still struggle with is the language a little.”

He nods in understanding even though he speaks Spanish fluently. He grew up with both languages, he hadn't been forced to learn from zero.

“You'll be able to get it,” he assures. “You're a quick learner. If Steve was able to learn, you're certain to nail it.”

You laugh and he chuckles. He likes that too, he realizes. Your laugh, the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, the shine in your gaze, the way the sound resonates from your mouth.

Suddenly it's a little hotter in the club and for the first time in a really long time, Javier feels nervous around a woman.

You like the way he looks at you. Those dark eyes taking you in as if he can't afford to miss a single detail about you.

Smiling a little coyly, you take another sip from your piña colada. It's so sweet.

Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.

Butterflies burst in your stomach. You gaze back up at him. He meets your gaze for a moment before looking away.

He reaches for his tie, undoes it with one hand, starts tugging it off.

Good God…

You press your thighs together. The tiniest of gestures and yet he looks so fucking hot doing it.

You wish he'd tie you up with that tie, pinyou to the bed, take what he wants…

Mind out of the gutter, you tell yourself. Mind out of the gutter.

As the night goes on, you both talk about everything and anything. The conversation doesn't dry up. It just flows. It's odd how much chemistry you two have, it's almost like you'd be perfect together.

But you work together. But he's much older. What would people say? What will happen when—if you were ever to be more than coworkers? More than friends?

No, don't think about that. It won't happen. He's just being kind, taking out the new girl to help her. It doesn't mean anything.

But you doubt yourself. The way he's looking at you, those dark eyes, that intense gaze…You could swear there's more to this than mere kindness.

As the night grows darker, the music gets louder. People start moving onto the dance floor, the lights dim. As the sounds rise in volume, you and Javi sit closer to be able to hear one another.

And suddenly everything shifts. Suddenly you're so close, suddenly the atmosphere is different, suddenly you're staring right into his eyes and he's glancing at your lips.

A soft breath leaves you. How many piña coladas have you had? This isn't you thinking, it's not you leaning closer to him. It's someone else, some other girl—confident, bold, she goes after what she wants. It's not something you would do. But this new version of you…

His lips are grazing yours now. You're so, so close to him. You can smell the cigarettes on his breath, can feel the heat of his skin. He smells of cologne and whiskey and smoke and soft musk.

“I was thinking,” you say, voice low, sultry. What's that sound? Is it the music booming or your racing heart? “You should teach me Spanish.”

“Teach you Spanish?” he asks, eyebrows pinching together. He seems confused, unsure about where you're going with this.

You nod. “Yeah. The toughest part is getting my tongue to roll the right way. And I was thinking you could show me…”

His eyes shine with realization. He understands now, you can tell. “Fuck,” he says breathlessly, voice low and thick. “C’mere.”

And then he's kissing you.

His mouth is warm, soft, and he tastes like danger.

One of his hands finds your waist, the other cups the back of your neck to pull you closer. He devours you, lips coercing yours open before his tongue slides in, tasting of whiskey.

When your tongue meets his, he groans quietly, the sound reverberating through you. The hand on your waist tightens its grip, the other one tangling in the hair at the back of your head and tugging slightly.

You gasp. He smirks. Javi pulls you closer until you're just about forced to get on his lap. You're happy to do so, straddling his hips, one hand on the back of the booth sofa to hold you up, the other one cupping his face.

When you lean your weight down on Javier, he groans, a barely-restrained sound that makes you wetter than you already are.

You can feel he's hard, his cock pressing right between your thighs. You get comfortable on his lap, the bulge in his pants right against your clit.

His hands move down to your ass slowly, testing the waters. When you don't complain, he squeezes the supple flesh, groaning into your mouth.

And it's wrong. And you know it's wrong. But you let him.

Fuuuuck.

Javier's mind is a blur, his every thought fogged over with the feel of you on top of him.

His cock aches for you. You're on top of him, the feeling of you on his lap is almost enough for him to jizz his pants.

Jesus fucking Christ, you're perfect. All of you is perfect. You feel so much better than he could've ever imagined.

His large hands squeeze your ass and start guiding your movements, making you grind against him. You let out a little sound, a soft, quiet moan and his hips buck up against yours. In response, you whimper, thighs tightening on either side of him.

He keeps guiding you, making you ride him through the fabric of his pants. He can feel the crotch of his jeans grow wet with his precum, his hips starting to move against yours in search of more.

More, more, more.

He wants so much more. He wants to lift up your skirt, move your panties to the side, slide his cock into you. He wants to feel you, your warm, wet pussy clenching around him…

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips. It's not enough. It won't be enough until he fucks you. Properly fucks you.

One of his hands moves from your ass to the side of your thigh, and then between your legs. He plays with the edge of your skirt and then his hand wanders under it.

His calloused fingertips find the fabric of your panties and his cock twitches. He gently teases your folds through your underwear, feeling how wet you are already.

He pulls moan after moan from you, smirking against your mouth, swallowing your every sound.

“Javi,” you whimper, pulling away from his lips to take a heaving breath.

“Shh, angel, you don't everyone to know what we're doing now, do you?”

You shake your head softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Mmm, n-no. I just—Oh, God.”

He pushes your panties aside, rough fingers finding your bare cunt. It's so wet, the coarse hair on your skin soaked.

You jerk at the feeling of his fingers on your pussy and he chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound.

He gathers some of your slick with his middle and index fingers and spreads it all over your cunt, leaving you nice and wet so his thumb can glide over your clit in soft, neat circles.

A string of incoherent words leave you and Javi smiles. He wishes he had you in his bed right now so he could spread your folds with his fingers, look at how wet you are.

But this will have to do for now.

He slides his middle finger into you, his thumb adding more pressure on your clit as he draws mindless shapes on the needy bud.

You rock your hips against his hand, moaning, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That's a good girl, angel,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “You're doing so well. I'm gonna add another finger, yeah?”

He slides his ring finger into you as well and you throw your head back, gasping softly. He curls his fingers up to find that spot that makes you clench around his digits and he smirks.

The more he fingers you, the wetter you get, the tighter you grip him. “C'mon, angel. Come for me, yeah? Let me give you what you deserve.”

You mewl, nuzzling your face into his neck as he fucks you open with his thick fingers.

“Shh, shh. You're so close, angel. So close. Fuck, I can feel how tight you're getting.”

His words seem to spur you on because you start riding his hand faster, more eager, as if you can't get enough. And then there's a moment where your body seems to pause, your every muscle tensing, your eyes shutting tight, and then you fall over the edge.

Javi watches as you climax, the sight more beautiful than anything he's ever seen in his fucking life. He doesn't want this to be the last time he sees you like this. He'll die if he can't get more of you.

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, helping you ride out the pleasure. “That's a good girl. Are you alright, angel?” He kisses your jaw, your neck, inhaling your soft scent.

You nod weakly. “Mhm,” you hum, shuddering a little. “‘m fine.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips softly, tasting you. God, the things he wants to do to you. He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his body aching to taste you. You taste so sweet, so gentle, so fucking perfect.

Oh, what's he fucking doing? You're half his age. You're too good for him. He shouldn't be—

Your hands start moving to the front of his pants, palming his throbbing cock through the fabric, and suddenly Javier forgets himself. He forgets everything.

If it's not you, he doesn't care right now. He'll figure it out later. There will be time later.

So he just gives in. Just ignores everything and allows himself this moment with you.

It'll only be once. Just once, he promises himself.

Cross my heart.

Dividers from @cafekitsune! Thank you again for these beautiful dividers!!!

Taglist

@maiyart @cheesepannini @picketniffler

I'm so inspired while writing this omggg I just need this man so much 😭😭😭

I hope you enjoy babes!!! <33333

#javier pena angst #javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña smut

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leota-nexus · 2 days

Text

[SakuraBot Mode: ACTIVATED]

Crawling outta the rubble to post I think my first selfie on here? I actually exist! Or something!

I was trying on the bodysuit for a WIP cosplay, grabbed the skirt for a laugh, & completely stopped in my tracks because damn now that's a LOOK!! 💮🤖💖

...Alright I've been trying to edit this post down for a couple days because I don't want this to come off like an advertisement but I gotta be a heartfelt sap for a moment. It's my nature, can't help it. 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♀️ Skirt review & personal ramblings under the cut:

Shoutout to @shopwitchvamp seriously. This skirt immediately replaced the cargo pants I've been living in the last few years. The fabric is so lovely & comfortable, the deep pockets are amazing, AND I can temperature-regulate in this crazy unpredictable weather!!! Hell yeah!

My partner got this skirt for me as a birthday gift because it reminds me of the digital sakuras in Night City that I keep using for virtual photoshoots but also in this Hot Topic Hello Kitty kinda way that just speaks to my millenial soul (🖤🎀🖤) I mean, obviously I'm in love with the design but the weight & texture & movement really made it an insta-fave in a very meaningful way for me.

And then I realized this is the first new piece of clothing I've owned since pre-pandemic. My body's changed so much that basically nothing fits. I had one pair of pants left that was at its limit and for years I've wore it like a uniform everytime I went outside with a baggy shirt to cover up. I got this skirt and suddenly I was styling outfits again, like wtf?!

So my partner & I realized how desperately our depressed neurodivergent asses needed:

new clothes that actually fit

with comfortable textures & fun patterns

that are actually functional & made to last

preferably from small businesses we respect

...And now we text each other about WV restocks lmao

The only problem is that because we couldn't afford anything from the Feb preorders, we figured we'd save up & see what came back in stock next month. Except it came in a month early. So LUCKILY we've already been saving up for this because now I'm waiting for my second skirt & partner's first joggers to be delivered today! And then they restocked more yesterday! And then they announced more restocks next week! Oof ouch our wallets but at least today's payday and now we actually have fun comfy clothes that fit to celebrate our 10 year anniversary together in a few months! 💕

Thank you, WitchVamp! We love you! Now if you'll excuse me I need to go sit by the front door like

"C'mon package... Maybe if I just... ~Booweeoop!~ No? Alright, check the tracking number..."

#selfie #witch vamp #feeling like a cyberpunk character catch me in night city lighting incense with misty in the esoterica 🖤#lol my partner saw this in my drafts & said “alright Peni” so also catch me in a spidermech repairing gadgets & gizmos a-plenty 💮🤖💖

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aothotties · 3 days

Text

Mommy Chaser (2)

Previous Chapters: 1

Warnings: None! (At least not in this chapter), Eren curses like once, him and the reader have a moment where they get close but no smut this time.

Word count: 1890

~~~

Tonight’s the night that you and Eren have dinner since meeting at Jean and Mikasa’s party. Unfortunately for you, your babysitter canceled last minute and your parents are out of town.

The moment you found out you rushed to call Eren and waited to hear bad news, but instead, all you got was an okay. No protest, no anger, none of the usual from other men who talk to you.

Eren wanted nothing more than to meet your little angel. He didn’t want to come off as strong or overbearing so he made sure to keep it cool on the phone.

Eren reassures you that your little one being there wouldn’t be an issue whatsoever. He even offers to take you all out, but you politely decline and decide to have a night in. He happily agrees and disconnects the call so he can prepare for tonight.

He arrives promptly on time and flashes his pretty white teeth at you once the door opens.

“You made it!” You say, a slight hint of shock in your voice.

“I sure did, I told you I would. And these are for you.” He hands over a small bouquet and you lightly inhale.

“Eren these are beautiful, you didn’t have to get these for me.” You set them down on the counter and go back to stirring the food in the pot.

“Well, they can be for your mini me as well, where is the little munchkin?” He looks around the living room.

“It looks like she’s waking up from her nap right this second. Can you come to watch the vegetables for me please?” You ask, he happily obliges and takes over at the stove.

You run upstairs and he focuses his attention on the array of veggies in front of him. He looks around and takes a peek at the chicken in the oven.

“Yeah, I’m gonna marry her.” He mumbles to himself as he stares at the food in front of him.

“Here she is!” You sing as you walk back into the kitchen.

Eren closes the oven quickly and smiles happily at the baby on your hip.

The little girl holds onto your shirt tightly and stares at Eren as if she’s getting a read on him. He holds his hand out in front of her and she slowly grabs at one of his fingers, she gives him a small smile and he chuckles.

“You must be special, she doesn’t normally warm up to people this fast. She also seems to like your rings.” You watch as he looks over the jewelry on his fingers closely.

“What can I say, I’m good with everyone.” He shrugs playfully and goes back to stirring the food.

Your daughter begins to whine when he turns his back to her and he quickly turns back to face her. She lets out a fit of giggles and reaches her arms out to him.

Eren feels his heart fill with joy and he happily takes the little girl into his arms.

“Hey there pretty girl, you look just like your mommy.”

It’s true, your daughter is your twin and has been since the day she was born. She’s just you, but in the form of a toddler.

“You’re doing an amazing job raising her, I can tell.” He praises you, you can’t help but shy away from the compliment.

“Well thank you Eren, it’s nice to hear that now and again.” You kiss your daughter on her forehead and start plating the food.

“How come I didn’t get one?” You turn around to see Eren pouting, your daughter looks at his face and immediately copies him.

You snort in response only to realize he’s not laughing, he’s very serious. You playfully roll your eyes and walk up to him, he leans down to your level and turns to the side.

You raise an eyebrow and he waits patiently for you to move closer. You play into his game and plant your lips on the middle of his cheek.

“Is that better Eren?” You question as you walk around to set up the table.

“Yeah, mama that’s fine for now.” He responds and you try not to smile at the nickname.

“What do you mean for now?” You take the baby from him and strap her into the high chair next to your seat.

“Patient my love, we’ll get there eventually.” He pats your hand and picks up a fork as he digs into his food.

“Oh my fucking god.” He moans as he eats and covers his mouth quickly.

You hold back a laugh and he begins to apologize profusely. He swallows the food and covers his face in embarrassment.

“It’s just so good I really couldn’t help myself” He wipes his mouth and goes back for more.

“It’s fine I promise, that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all day. And honestly, I’m flattered you think so highly of my cooking” You follow his movements and begin eating as well.

…

“Goodnight pretty girl.” You whisper to the sleeping baby lying in her crib.

You turn her nightlight on to the lowest setting and bend over to kiss her forehead, you pull the door up a bit and head towards your living room.

Eren is standing up and looking at all of the pictures on your wall and fireplace. He feels your presence and looks over in your direction.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to stare, I’m just looking around.” He apologizes and you shake your head.

“No it’s okay, I have them up there for a reason.”

His eyes lock in on a photo of a man holding your daughter in the hospital. You can be seen in the background taking a nap.

“That’s her and her father, that was the most chaotic day of my entire life.” You run your forehead as you think about that day.

“Well I don’t know about you but I like chaos, tell me more.” He turns to look at you and you chuckle in response.

“I mean if you’ve got time then sure. I’m gonna need a glass of wine before I reminisce though.” You tell him, you make your way into the kitchen and grab two wine glasses.

“Why don’t you pick something out, they’re in the cabinet up top.”

“Are you asking because you can’t reach it?” He teases, he easily grabs a bottle and opens it with the corkscrew.

“So anyways, the day started with me waking up at 4:30 am with the worst cramps…”

One glass of wine turned into two, and then that turned into you trailing off into another story about who knows what. Know you two are on your second bottle of wine while going through an old photo album.

“Okay imma get it this time, this is a picture of you, and then over here is lil mama right here?” He looks at you for an answer and you nod in response.

He silently cheers to not wake her up and you cover your mouth as you let out a chuckle.

“You’re funny Eren.” You finish your glass and set it down on the table in front of you.

“I feel like you know almost everything about me, tell me more about you.” You turn and face him, silently admiring his features as he speaks.

You can feel the wine start to settle in your system as you lose focus on his words and start having lees thoughts.

You squeeze your legs together tightly and nod along with him.

You can’t help but start to wonder what it would be like if his hands were to touch all over your body. What would his lips feel like against yours, or even wrapped around your pretty little-

“Hey, what’s for you losing focus?” He looks over at you in concern and you just smile and shake your head.

“Nothing at all, I’m just a little tipsy. Would you like a snack?” You change the subject and speed to your kitchen, maybe some distance will calm you down.

“Yeah you’re tipsy, but I wanna know what you were thinking about!” He follows behind you quickly, so much for distance.

“Eren it’s nothing I promise.” You reassure him as you climb up onto the counter.

“Well if it’s nothing, then tell me. We’re both adults aren’t we?” He questions, filling the space between your legs with his body.

You grip the counter and he takes your hands in his before draping them over his broad shoulders.

You nod your head at his question and he gently places his hands on your waist, he maintains eye contact with you and keeps his hands at the same level.

“Then tell me what got your attention.” He mumbles, his green eyes trailing down to your lips.

“Y-you did. It’s just the alcohol getting to my system.” You answer shyly and he smirks at your answer.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be ashamed Princess, I’m honored. I can’t act like I’m completely innocent either. The moment you opened the door I had to hold myself back.” He says as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Eren, I’m not ready for “

“It’s okay, we’re not doing anything you’re not ready to do.” He reassures you, he presses a warm kiss to your forehead and you sigh in relief.

“It’s late though so I’m gonna head out, can I see you again this week?” He asks, heart racing at the small chance that you’ll tell him no.

“Please stay, we’ve been drinking and I’ll feel more at ease if you stay.” You take his hand as he turns and he manages to hide his shock.

“Oh uh, yeah that’s fine. I’d love to actually. All I need is a blanket and a pillow.” You nod and walk to the linen closet.

You grab a large pillow and blanket that looks comfortable. Before you walk out to him, you scream into the pillow to release some of your emotions.

You come back up for air and clear your throat. He takes the items from you and you pull the couch out for him.

“I’ll have to leave early to take her to my mom's house before work, so I’ll get you up then.” You let him know and he nods in agreement.

“That sounds great, thanks for the wine and pictures. You have a good night.” He says before pulling you in for a hug.

You sigh out contently once you’re in his arms, you force yourself to pull away from him after almost a minute.

“Thank you for being patient.” You hold one of his hands in yours and he kisses the back of it gently.

“Don’t thank me for being a decent human being. I’ll see you girls in the morning.” He kisses your forehead one last time and you smile as you walk to your bedroom.

Once you close your door you find yourself walking over to your bed. You plop back and stare at the ceiling as the butterflies in your stomach continue flying.

Your phone lights up and you pick it up to see it’s from Mikasa.

You chuckle at the both of them and turn your phone on DND. You get comfortable under the duvet and close your eyes, finally drifting off peacefully.

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