He Thinks He's Gonna Eat Him

he thinks he's gonna eat him

When your baby started kicking for the first time, you immediately sprinted towards your husband who was still deep in slumber in the comfort of your shared king sized bed, it was only 3:30 in the morning after all, a little too early to rise, and you would have been snuggled up to him if your bladder capacity hadn't prevented it for the third time that night.

_ "Katsuki wake up wake up, you have to feel this! It's moving!" you announced in a loud whisper while shaking him lightly.

_ "Huh what, what's moving? Do I need to blow it up?" he was obviously disoriented as he tried to blink the sleep away, knitting his eyebrows in concentration so he could focus his blurry vision on you.

_ "What? No, are you crazy?" you bursted out laughing at his unexpected response, and waited for him to gain full consciousness as he wobblily sat up to face you.

_ "Is everything okay?" he reached out to gently trace your cheek, and you could tell he was fully awake at last.

_ "Here, feel this," you took his other hand and placed it on your bulging tummy, "our baby is moving."

His eyes widened and his mouth hung open in obvious amazement, and you watched in awe as your husband's face lit up at the new feeling under his palm.

_ "This is real, we're actually having a baby." the wide, almost face-splitting smile appearing on his face was the same one he had when you announced your pregnancy a few months ago, and the warmth it evoked in you was also the same as back then.

_ "We are Katsuki." and you couldn't help the tears of joy welling up in your eyes as you watched the bliss radiating from him, placing your hands on top of his and holding on tightly.

That night -and every following night- he kept his hand on your belly when you climbed back to bed, holding you from behind and rubbing soothing patterns on your tightening skin while kissing your neck and whispering sweet 'I love you's' and promises for eternal happiness together, until you finally drifted off again.

𝐻𝐴𝑈𝑁𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸

—a/n: hii i am pasi and i like to make people cry and suffer.

He didn't mean it. right?

"You are so fucking insufferable. My wife was so much better than you. You can never be like her."

It stung you. your heart raced faster as fear, panic and pain seeped in your blood. You and toji had gotten into a petty arguement earlier. It was only a matter of time before it turned into a full fledged fight the way none of you were backing down. usually, you both would've just been mad for a few hours before apologizing to each other—although your apologies were in the form of long hugs and favorite food—but this one took the worst turn.

The room was silent for thirty seconds after the words left his mouth. Tears threatened your eyes. To be honest, you did not even have the energy to put a fight with them. So you just let them fall.

"I know." You finally spoke but it was a broken whimper. "I know, dammit." You bit your lips, holding in your loud cries. You wanted to sob till the neighbors knew something was wrong, but you suppressed them. "I can never be like her. She was perfect. She was beautiful. She—she would never get on your nerves like me." You stammered between sentences. "I get it. I respect her." Toji looked at you with raging eyes, his adrenaline still hadn't calmed down but you could spot regret when his brow softened a little.

"But, honestly toji...I don't give a fuck about being like her. I never tried to be. All I tried was to— to love you more that her so you could know your worth after you lost her." Every cell in your body tried to gather as much courage as it could to just stand there and being able to say this.

All the anger in his suddenly had vanished, replaced with regret and hatred for himself. He never wanted to make you feel like this. He never wnated to fuck this up, and make you cry. But now he had. He let his hand reached you, only to notice your leg stepping backward.

"I am never going to be enough, right? Fuck. I can't do this."

"No. Don't say it—"

"I think it's time I leave." Feet rushing towards you, his steps heavier.

"Don't say that. Fuck I am so sorry. I didn't mean it, baby. I..." Broken sobs left your lips. He wanted to kiss them away, but he didn't know if he could right now. Big thumb brushed away your thick tears, palm resting against your cheek. He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. Placing your body on the grey mattress, he climbed on the bed, laying next to you with your head on his arms. There were no words exchanged for the rest of the night. When your sobs stopped, he kissed your forehead as you passed out from exhaustion. The sight bought him both peace and pain. He promised himself that he will make it up to you tomorrow.

The sun was brighter the next morning, or at least that is what Toji felt when the sun rays coming from the window fell directly on his body. Usually, he'd wake up to the shade of your body. His eyes widened as he hastily sat up, finding you nowhere on the bed.

"No. No. No. Please."

He rushed to the bathroom, but it was empty. Kitchen? Empty. Hall? Empty. Wait. He moved closer to the coffee table when he caught a glimpse of what seemed like a note.

"Thank you for everything and I am sorry I wasn't enough. Goodbye Toji."

A loud thud emerged as Toji's kness met the floor, clueless eyes scanning the room. It qas more silent than usual. The kind of silence that was killing him. Has it always been this quiet?

Idk if you have seen that one text ss where the guy is like "take a nap" and then a few hours later he goes "I said a nap not a fucking coma" feel like that would be sooooo rafe x reader, like reader just falls asleep anywhere and everywhere and rafe is just like "girl.....😐"

thought of two instances of this! thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!

“hey, hey,” rafe shakes your arm, sighing. “mm.. r-rafe?” you mumble, your vision a bit blurry as you wake up, yawning. “w-what you doing here?” you question in a little groggy voice, getting shy as you can see him a little clearer. he was just so handsome. “the fuck you mean? you didn’t answer my texts all fuckin’ day. got worried.” he confesses, his eyebrows scrunched together.

“oh.. yea,” you giggle softly. “was jus’ getting my beauty sleep, papi.”

“b-beauty sleep? you serious? it’s 1:30 in the afternoon.” he scolds in a condescending tone. “papiii,” you whine, hiding your face in your pillow. “you’re judging me. can feel it.”

you hear him sigh, rolling his eyes. “not judging, ma. jus’.. curious how someone can sleep that long.” “well.. it’s because it gets tiring being the worlds best girlfriend, lotta weight on my back,” you giggle at your own joke. “mm, yeah. give you that one.” he chuckles before kissing your forehead. “cmon, missed you. we’re going out, yea?”

୨୧ second instance

“hey, where your girl go man?” topper asked as rafe adjusted his hat backwards. he usually never let you out of eyesight. “uh, what?” he asks before looking around, seeing that you were no longer by the clothing rack that held a variety of cropped, revealing tops that quickly made rafe imagine having to tell you not to wear those when he wasn’t around when he first saw you snooping there. “the fuck?” he quietly whispers to himself, scanning the store.

after a few minutes of looking around and even calling your cellphone— he approached one of the workers, already working himself up. “hello, ma’am, uh.. wanted to ask if you’ve seen a girl wearing a pink dress? has little flowers on it? was wearing those uh tall sandals or whatever you call em,”

“oh, you mean platform sandals?” she giggles softly, “yea she asked me where the dressing room was and headed straight there.” she replies with a small smile. “ah, alright. thanks.”

when he arrives to the dressing room he goes to the one stall that’s closed, knocking before twisting the doorknob. “didn’t even lock the damn thing.” he grumbles to himself before stepping inside.

you sat on the dressing rooms chair with your head leaned back and eyes closed. “oh you’re kidding me.”

he lightly smacks your cheek to wake you up, a bit upset. “o-oh! hi papi,” you say meekly. “was tired of all that walking.. was only going to take a real small nap..” you confess, your cheeks a flushed pink.

“baby.. i.. what? cmon doll, you serious with me right now?” he questions, a disapproving expression on his face. “you’re the one that wanted to go to the mall, remember?” it was true, you wanted to get closer to topper and kelce— being rafe’s friends and all, so you invited them to go shopping with you. “i-i know papi, we just did so much walking ‘s all..” you whine, standing up as you hug rafe gently, sighing. “oh doll, cmon. let’s just go already.” he says lightly, dragging you back out and telling the boys it was time to go home for the day, them being secretly glad as they had literally no idea what to do in all the stores you had been visiting— let’s just say every since then, rafe refused to let go of your hand anytime you guys went out afterwards.

hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭

Finders, Keepers.

16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates

Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 1185

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The Roommate Collection.

Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.

It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.

He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.

He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.

You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.

"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"

Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.

"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."

You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.

You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.

Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.

"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"

"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."

"Waffles it is."

Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.

"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.

The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."

"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."

You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.

"Are you... alright, Carmy?"

"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."

"... like what?"

"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."

He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.

He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.

"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.

"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."

You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.

Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.

He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.

As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.

"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."

You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.

"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?

You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.

"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."

You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.

"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.

"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.

"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"

𝓇.cameron. ┆ babydaddy!rafe 𝓍 babymama!reader.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ lil busy 2day but i'ma try n get some fanfics out to yall tonight . <3

thinkin' about szn3 buzzcut!rafe bein' your babydaddy—he's more grown, a full man now, a leader and now in charge of his father's company. rafe takes the role of being in charge very seriously, he takes even more serious care of you as though you both are still lovers, still together. he'd do anything you'd ask of him—if you call him up crying and need him at 3 o'clock in the morning? it ain't even a problem, rafe is up in an instant, holding up his phone to his ear while trying to calm you down, saying sweet nothings and rambling about whatever the fuck nonsense he can think of to keep you from crying, while simultaneously rushing around his bedroom at tannyhill, frantically throwing on a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. no matter what, rafe still acts like y'all are still together, that you're his girl, so no matter how little the problem actually is, rafe is dropping everything to go and take care of you. usually, he refers to you as his lil mama, his girl, baby... still desperately in love with you, and still tells his friends and family that you're his girlfriend, and that when the baby comes, he's gonna put a gorgeous, massive rock on your little ring finger and marry you. of course, you scold him for doing these things, always shy and sweetly bashful when rafe says such sweet, loving, romantic things to you and about you. and oh, you absolutely loathe but secretly love how he's always doting on you—you especially love that no matter when you ask for it (all shy n cute n shit, makin' rafe smirk) or how you need it, he'll give you a nice, hard fucking with those deep, long strokes that make you purr like a newborn kitten, or if you're needing a more gentle and tender touch, and some sappy words, then he'll give it to you all gentle and make love to you. whatever you need, rafe'll spoil his babymama without blinking an eye—you're gonna be the mother of his child soon, so of course you're still his girl, and if he plays his cards right, you'll be his little housewife even sooner.