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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: 2 of 2 for sickfics. Requested by multiple.

At first, Simon thinks the sound of his cellphone is an explosion.

It doesn’t register completely in his dream. It starts as a slow beeping sound, like a ticking, and then morphs into everything else, the usual. Explosions and blood, screaming and crying amidst the rubble, dust swirling in the air. In the dream, he doesn’t know where he is. Doesn’t know how he got there, only knows that he was looking for you, searching the faces and the limbs of the deceased for any sign of you and Emma, picking through slabs of concrete until the crying got closer, until it sounded like it was right on top of him, or underneath him, somewhere he can’t see but-

“’lo?” “Simon?” He squints, adjusting for a split second, before shooting straight up in bed.

“I’m here.” He told you to call, nearly begged you to ring him if you needed anything after he left your flat earlier. You were still in awful shape, but managed to get in the shower, and Emmaline had been fed and put back down to bed. He was able to help you with your dishes, washing and stacking them where he hoped they went, tucking the bottles upside down on their drying rack. There wasn’t more of a reason to linger in your flat. He didn’t want to be a nuisance.

“I’m s-sorry, did I wake you?” You sound upset. Still heavily sick, throat clogged with a cough, but your voice is distress ladened, sour with fear. You sound like you did that day the guy followed you in the park.

“No. What is it?” He fumbles for his jeans, sliding them on, phone tucked between his ear and chin. The mask is in there, he double checks, and he’s still trying to coax it out of you when he pulls his sweatshirt on.

“It’s Emma… she’s- she’s not getting any better and I don’t know what to do, I need to take her to hospital.” You’re crying, panicked, Emmaline screaming through the walls, and his skin breaks out in a cold sweat. What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she getting better? You’re still talking in the background, anxiously explaining her temperature and the reasoning for something medical he doesn’t understand, enough time for him to make the very short trip to your front door. His fingers twist around the handle, grateful it’s locked, frustrated it stands between him and the two of you. “- and what if I waited too long and something really bad has happened and I just know she must be so uncomfortable and I’m a terrible mum I just didn’t think that taking her to hospital was the right thing, there are so many germs already there and what if-“

“Hey, listen. Listen to me, love.” He tries to jog your attention, snapping you free from your spiral. “Everything’s going to be okay, okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper.

“Can you open the door, sweetheart?” He coaxes you, gritting his teeth at the sound of your harsh breathing, combination of your tears and what he’s sure must be a chest infection making you gasp a little bit, like you’re running out of air. He hears the click of the deadbolt, and the scrape of the chain- door all locked up, just like he taught you. Good girl. “That’s it.” He encourages, waiting for the turn of the handle.

You’re hyperventilating on the other side, still gripping the phone tight, crying baby in your arms, all bundled up like you’re preparing to take her outside… except you’re wearing a thin pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, frantic look in your eyes, missing a shoe.

Without thinking, he steps forward and pulls you into his chest, snuggling Emma between you and him, careful not to squish her, but keeps you close with a hand on the back of your head. It’s all instinct, something that’s been wired in the back of his mind, sleeping dormant for so long. He’s not quite sure how his hands know to give you comfort, but they do. Just for you, for Emmaline, and he lets himself fall into it, murmuring something soft into your hair, pulling her from your arms as he encourages you to get a jacket on, helping you with the one sleeve, making sure you both get your hats, helping you get her settled in the carrier. He keeps a hand on you the whole way to the car, your nerves about installing the base easily soothed when he shows you he knows how to do it, (and fails to mention the youtube videos on quick install that he’s been watching recently, just in case) settling her and then you in, even reaching over to buckle your belt as you lean over car seat, anxiously distracted, watching your baby. “Alright, ready?” He asks you gently, and you look to him, eyes wet with tears, limbs heavy. The need to reassure you, soothe you, screams in his head, and he takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. “It’s going to be alright.” I swear. I’ll burn the world if it’s not. “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #light on

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puranami · 5 months

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✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

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OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT

I LOVE UR STORIES

So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them

ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ

Pretty in Pink

me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3

Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777

You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.

Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.

He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.

“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”

“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.

“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.

“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.

“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.

You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.

“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”

A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(･ω･;)┛

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut

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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

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Amor

Summary: After a bad day at work, coming home to his family makes Javi realize his day wasn't so bad after all

Word Count: 1.9K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Tooth rotting, sickening, fluff 😩😭 Allusions to smut, breeding kink, dad!Javi needs his own warning bc oh my GOD (more specifically, girl dad!Javi...) (*Also general spoiler warning if you don't want to read NTL out of order!*)

A/N: Y'ALL. I told you the dad!Javi brain rot was UNREAL. After writing this, I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to stop writing for dad!Javi ever and I'm not even sorry about it 🤷🏼‍♀️ Don't mind me casually screaming from the rooftops about how much I am obsessed him okay BYE 🤪

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

Shitty.

There were a lot of words Javi could have used to describe how his day at work had gone.

At 9:30, after his weekly phone call with border patrol, who provided him with little to no helpful information, the word would have been annoying.

At 11:15, after Agent Miller knowingly jammed the copier and left it for someone else to fix, leaving Javi with no way to make any copies, the word would have been frustrated.

At 3:40, after his department meeting with the other Sheriff’s Offices from the county, none of whom came prepared, as usual, the word would have been angry.

And now, at 6:15, after a spilled afternoon coffee, a giant stack of paperwork that had been thrown on his desk, and a pounding headache, the word to describe his day was nothing short of shitty.

Throwing his briefcase into the passenger’s seat, cranking the AC up and the volume of his car radio to zero, Javi sat in his truck, silently brooding in his moodiness to sulk in the misery that had been his absolutely shitty day.

The rest of his drive home was the same as his pouting in the parking lot of the Laredo County Sheriff’s Department- no music, no windows down, no grin on his face like his usual drives home after work. Javi couldn’t remember a day at work this shitty since the DEA, and that in itself was saying something.

As Javi pulled onto your street, dust swooshed beneath the bouncing of his truck tires along the gravel road, the sun just beginning to fade from its vibrant yellows and oranges to its soft pinks, beaming behind the clouds scattered throughout the September sky. The view was just enough to snap him out of his overbearing funk- the brightly colored sunset painted behind the view of your house and tiny, shadowed figures dancing in the driveway meant that nothing else in the world mattered anymore. Not frustrating colleagues, piles of paperwork, even spilt cups of desperately deserved coffee. The only thing that mattered to him now, were his 4 favorite people in the world, waiting for him to come home. The only thing that mattered was his family.

Lucy was the first to notice Javi’s truck rolling down the driveway, immediately prompting the 4 of you to pause your soccer game that had been happening in the front yard, which, after your two year old had decided she wanted to get involved, had really turned into more of a match of “Chase Harper through the grass as she tries to run away with the soccer ball”.

“Daddy’s home!” Lucy and Elliot squealed, bolting towards Javi’s truck as it finally reached a halt at the end of the driveway, prompting you to scoop up Harper and follow behind, knowing she would be just as thrilled to see her dad, even if her little legs couldn’t keep up with her older sisters' quite yet. The girls bounced in excitement, frantically waving at Javi as they waited for him to exit the car.

From the moment the driver’s side door was open, and both Javi’s feet were on the ground, Lucy and Elliot were wrapped around Javi’s waist, squeezing him with a love and affection that instantly eased every last bit of stress, melting away any remnants of the previous parts of his day.

“Hi Daddy!” The girls giggled in delight as they latched tighter around their dad’s hip, the feeling instantly making him crouch down to their level and drape his arms around them, pulling them in as closely as he could in return.

“Hola, Pollitas.” (Hi, little chickens). The sigh Javi let out was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, hugging his girls just a little tighter and longer than normal, almost as if he couldn’t bear to let them go.

“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” Elliot squealed, wriggling her little body in Javi’s grasp.

“Yeah, Dad, you’re gonna crush us!” Lucy teased, both the girls bursting into laughter as Javi gave them one last squeeze before hosting them up, letting their little legs flail as he shook them in his grasp before setting them back down, pressing a soft kiss on each of their heads.

“Crush my Pollitas? Never. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi teased back, making the girls roll their eyes.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Harper cooed, outstretching her arms towards Javi as the two of you made it to the driveway, Javi immediately scooping her up from you and hosting her in the air, peppering her with little kisses across her body, making her squeal just as loudly as her sisters.

“Mi mas pequeño amor (My littlest love).” Javi grinned, resting Harper against his hip as his little fan club had finally parted ways enough for you to greet your husband, gently cradling his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the sweet taste of him that felt like home.

“Hi.” You smiled, pulling back just enough to see the sweet grin spread across his face before leaning back in for a hug, letting the warmth and scent of his body engulf you whole, making the grin on your face just as wide as his. “Long day?” You asked, still pressed against his chest, noting his arrival time back home was later than normal.

“Not anymore.” He beamed, staring down at you with that tender gaze that still made you melt, even after all your years together.

“Daddy, can I show you the picture I made you in art today? Please, please, please?” Lucy pleaded, once again wrapped around Javi’s hip, gently tugging at his shirt for his attention.

“I made one, too!” Elliot interjected, crossing her arms in defiance, a shocked look on her face that her sister dared to leave her out of the art contribution about to be made to their dad.

“Your little artists have been hard at work today.” You grinned. “I’m pretty sure the Peña house is going to soon be a nationally recognized museum for pictures of puppies, Daddy, and gorillas.”

“Gorillas? That’s a new one.” Javi laughed, looking at you with a confused tilt of your head, your only response to shrug your shoulders in just as much confusion and amusement.

“Mrs. Collins read us a book about them in library today! So I showed Elliot and Harper how to draw them!” Lucy beamed, proudly crossing her arms over her chest with a satisfied nod.

“I’m sure they’re amazing, mi amor (my love), gorillas and all.”

“Alright goobers, now that Daddy’s home it’s time for dinner, why don’t you go clean up the rest of your art stuff and we can show Daddy your pictures before we eat.” You smiled, Javi gently setting Harper back on the ground, only to quickly be scooped back up again by Lucy, the 3 girls racing through the front yard and into the house, giggling and screeching in excitement the whole way there, leaving you and Javi watching your daughters dash across the driveway.

Once the girls were out of sight, Javi’s hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your hips as he tugged you in closer, making your rest your hands on his broad chest as he kissed you, now making you giggle as he grabbed an unexpected handful of your ass, giving it a playful smack as you swatted at him, rolling your eyes.

“You’re in a surprisingly good mood for having a shitty day at work.” You smirked, biting down on your lip as you raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“How’d you know I had a bad day at work?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion, hand still gripped tightly around the small of your back.

“Because I know you like the back of my hand, Javier Jesús Peña. I could just tell. Plus, you always give those girls an extra big hug after a long day, since I know how much you miss them, even though you literally saw them this morning.” You snickered, lovingly nudging Javi before pressing another kiss onto his lips.

“What? Like it’s a crime to miss my family while I’m stuck in terrible fucking meetings and doing shitty ass paper work all day? To wanna spend all my time with my beautiful daughters and their even more beautiful momma? Fine, guilty as charged, I guess.” Javi winked, gently tracing his thumb on the soft skin of your stomach, barley peeking out between your shirt and shorts.

“Well I guess the five of us will all just head off to Peña prison together since we’re all guilty of missing you just as much.”

“God, you’re such a dork.” He sighed, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the comfort of each other’s embrace, forever your favorite feeling. “Okay, we should probably get back in there before the munchkins get up to no good, huh? In addition to trying to teach Elliot and Harper how to draw gorillas, Lucy was also trying to teach them how to body check someone when they played hockey in the driveway.”

“They are their mother’s daughters, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Plus, I apparently have some pictures of gorillas to go see.” Javi chuckled, reaching back to open the passenger side door of his truck to pull out his bag as the two of you headed back towards the house.

“Well, if you needed something to make you feel better, looking at Elliot’s attempt at drawing you, her, Lucy and Harper riding on a purple gorilla while I chase you riding a rainbow gorilla will probably do the trick.” The two of you laughed, walking hand in hand to the front door, pausing one last time on your porch before entering back into the giggles and grins filling your home. “And if that doesn’t work, I bet after we put the girls to bed, I can think of something else that might help you feel better, too.” You smirked, eyeing Javi up and down with a mischievous grin spread across your face.

“Yeah? You gonna let me give me baby number 4, huh Momma?” Javi’s face lit up, biting down on his lip, his eyes wide and smirk even bigger than yours.

“Bold of you to assume the rainbow gorilla isn’t enough. Guess we do have an extra room to fill, don’t we?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge before heading through the door, joining the girls in the kitchen, eagerly waiting with drawings in hand to show their dad. As Javi trailed behind you, greeted by the image of his wife and daughters gleefully gathered around the kitchen counter, waving their colorful papers at him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart burst at the seams, flooded with sense of love and comfort that he was convinced nothing else on this earth would ever be able to top.

Even on the shittiest of days, Javi knew that nothing could really ever be that bad, knowing he would get to spend the rest of his life coming home to the 4 people in the world that made it all worth it. Knowing he would spend his forever surrounded by the love of his family.

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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hyewka · 6 months

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Omg for your game beomgyu + hybrid ! Except he’s a bear hybrid since I don’t actually see it often despite him being a bear and though I love puppy hybrid gyu I want to see some bear gyu appreciation 😭🤭🤔

⭑ warnings; hybrid!au, switch!beomgyu, wolf!reader, mean femdom, dubcon, fwb, predator x prey, creampie, use of whore and bitch in demeaning ways, not proofread

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

you don't exactly know what the dumb cub's obsession with you comes from. you've never looked at him different than any other predator, and yet he has this weird big crush on you. does he know what's good for him or do all preys really just lack critical thinking?

"you're pretty," he babbles in answer of your question as you purposefully clamp down on his itty bitty thing. all it really has is girth. as expected of a bear.

"no duh. but i'm not the prettiest wolf out there so again, why do you like me so much?"

your eyes shoot open when beomgyu unexpectantly starts bucking his hips into your cunt, without permission. who the hell does he think he is?! you're about to curse him out, but as you lose your composure the faster he humps into your heat, he starts talking again.

"but y-you're the prettiest to me."

it's embarrassing how much those words have an effect on you. the heat that rushes up your cheeks is embarrassing, all of it is embarrassing, you're the one who's supposed to have him blushing and yet the dumb cub is the one having you so flustered. you manage to recover, quickly collecting yourself. you huff, taking it upon yourself to hold his wrists together over his head then using your right hand to trail under his shirt, pinching his nipples. that ought to teach him.

"ow! fuck! that hurt!" he shrieks, tears shooting to water his eyes.

"ill do it again if you act out little grizzly, sit there pliant or ill rip your little teddy ears off." he looks angry, frowning at you with his bottom lip stuck out like the baby he is, but really who is he to act like this? you're the one riding him and exerting all the effort while he sits against a tree. he should be grateful that you aren't a bigger bitch.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps it in as his frown transforms to ecstasy, mouth agape as his brows knit together and god, his facial expression really has you horny, hoping you could at least cum from this too.

then he rips it away from you. again.

"gonna cum, keep going you're sooogood at this--h-ha fuckkk"

you blink dumbfounded, does he really think you'll let his dirty litter in your belly? god what a dumbass.

almost immediately you stop and his glossy eyes fly open, he really looks like the most precious thing as he tries and fails to hump you. "no--no fuck!"

you tsk, letting go of his wrists and getting off his dick, dusting off your top. "hoped you'd last a little longer," you murmur pulling your panties up, indifferent to the fact that you just ruined an orgasm for him and he's squirming to try and get his high back with his hand. you could tell he's failing.

it's almost like a power trip leaving the bear on his ass, ruined to shreds against the tree, hiccuping and panting, legs still spread like a whore-- you're satisfied with your work if anything. so you didn't expect to be hurled with your back against the tree, everything going so fast and seemingly out of nowhere, the light switch terrifying with how dangerously close beomgyus face is to yours, with your wrists pinned.

"god you're such a bitch," he growls lowly, and you shiver, for the first time seeing his canines in a more predatory light. "want me to treat you like one? throw you around and give it to you rough like all the asshole predators?"

you don't let your weakness show, trying to bury down your fear. "let me go if you know what's good for you beomgyu." you warn trying to stare him down with the same intense look. it's not as effective as it usually is because he doesn't stop, tightening his hold.

"want me to use you as a body rag? thats what you want right? will that get you to treat me better than a fucking second class citizen? fuck your pussy and breed you with my cubs?"

with every word, it's like venom, your nose flaring, you're pissed. but yet the last bit stirs something deep in you, it's all confusing. why're you into this? you like toys you can control, not someone so unpredictable. who is he to think he could speak to you like that anyway? just because you haven't killed him the first chance you got and kept him around your circle he's acting out like he's better than you, like you've wronged him. you sneer at him.

"i could brush my knee against your dick and you'd buckle to your knees gyu, that's how weak you are. you wouldn't know a thing about fucking me like a bitch." you whisper, keeping the demeaning smile on your face, trying to ignore the feeling of his nails digging into your skin further and further, no doubt bruising.

you expect it, him attaching himself to you again. no matter how much you get a little mean, his lips still crash onto yours, rough and greedy and grossly passionate, like he's trying to convince you of something. it's different this time, he's not holding back, slipping his hand down your pants not wasting any time to rub at your clit, not waiting for any instructions and your body is reacting.

"so wet." he sighs into the feeling of your pussy, squeezing in a second, then a third. "what a whore."

he's fast, he's experienced with his fingers, he knows exactly what you like and it's all your fault for instructing him this entire time. he always had a glint to his eyes, like he'd snap and take you himself. and you guess today was his last straw.

"fuck, beomgyu, i-i'm gonna cum.." it's humiliating, but your pussy clenches around his slender fingers, and you could hear him whimpering, like this gets him off too. even when he's the one in control, he's still as desperate.

suddenly, like your warning is the call he's been waiting for, he turns you back to have your body against the tree, and you know he wants to go along his promise to breed you. suddenly you feel the emptiness of his fingers, and you're about to complain before he takes both your wrists in his hand, having them behind your back, his dick proding your entrance. "ready bitch?"

"beomgyu i swear if you cum inside of me-"

he doesn't listen, of course he doesn't. your tits bounce with each and every thrust and you just hope to the gods that nobody finds you like this. he's totally gone savage, trying to drill his cock deep into your pussy, whispering all sorts of filthy words. if everything before wasn't a big whiplash this was it.

even when you orgasm around his dick, he isn't satisfied. "beomgyu-fuck! stop please it h-hurts-"

"im not stopping until i have your tummy filled. ill make you have my babies." he says with so much conviction, his breath staggering.

"for the last time we can't breed dumb cub!" is what you wish you could say but all you're capable of with the mush state of your mind is intelligible moans. he's as fast and ruthless, playing with your tits when he can, not missing a second to kiss all over your neck.

you've lost to beomgyu of all people, how humiliating.

note; I haven't read over this but hopefully it's okay, crossing my fingers 😭

#✶ ━━ rana ; answered #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #hybrid smut #🌷. rana thoughts

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aziraphales-library · 5 months

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I remember a fair few fics where the premise is vaguely “Aziraphale does a blessing/miracle/other religious thing on Crowley and it’s strange/overwhelming/etc for all involved”. I just can’t… find any of them. I remember them being various ratings, pure fluff to pure smut

Your best bet is the divinity kink tag on AO3. Here are some to get you going...

The Agony And The Ecstasy by entanglednow (T)

A split second decision by Aziraphale to save them both from discovery leaves Crowley experiencing something he is unprepared for.

your love is sunlight by EveningStarcatcher (M)

“Why wait?” Crowley’s voice was faint, almost a whisper, but lined with the usual forced nonchalance. “What?” Aziraphale froze, brow slightly furrowed. “Just, I don’t have to wait.” Crowley’s cheeks flushed. “Could be all better right now. I mean. I-if you wanted.” “Are you asking me to heal you?” Aziraphale’s eyes flashed with something… divine.

A Negative Integer by racketghost (E)

“I’m the holy object,” Aziraphale says, and is also looking frantically around the room, the bookshop, the skylight filtering in the first glimpses of afternoon sun and holding dust particles suspended in their beams, dreamy and soft. “I can’t touch you.” “Yes you can,” he blurts out, and swallows down the cacophony of what are sure to be any number of embarrassing and hopeful ways in which the angel can touch him, really, whenever.

Bleak Without and Bare Within by Princip1914 (E)

Perhaps Crowley was right, Aziraphale thought. They were both working very hard in sometimes very awful places and for what? It was obvious that they couldn’t give up on temptations and blessings entirely--someone would notice, they had to surely--but combining forces here and there? What had Crowley called it, lending a hand, when necessary? It didn’t sound too bad. It didn’t sound like a good idea either, but Aziraphale supposed that was the whole point. It was a morally neutral proposition, and everything would still get done in the end. “I agree.” Aziraphale said finally. “As long as you accept that we’re going to have to teach one another.” Or, an angel learns to Tempt, a demon learns to Bless and things get a bit out of hand at the beginning of an unusual Arrangement.

Divine Hands by WanderingAlice (T)

After the end of the world didn’t come, Crowley had planned to spend a lot more time with Aziraphale, and Aziraphale didn’t seem opposed to the idea at all. Unfortunately there’s one glaring problem. Crowley has a strong, uncontrollable panic reaction to being touched by something divine. And Aziraphale cannot turn off his own divinity. A Good Omens Holiday Exchange fic written for the prompt: After the Notpocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale start getting closer...but they find out together that Crowley has deep-seated trust issues triggered by something about Aziraphale that he can't help. They have to overcome it together.

sanctuary by moonyinpisces (T)

“You’re staring.” “Oh dear,” says Aziraphale, completely unapologetic. “How rude of me.” Crowley begins to smile something slow, bright, and lovely, but he schools it with a bite to his lower lip. Aziraphale thinks of the way he looked two millennia ago, pressed up against the wall with Aziraphale's blessing healing his wounds, the only demon to experience divine ecstasy and live to tell the tale. How Aziraphale's hands itch to do it again, and again, and again. Crowley opens his mouth as if to say something, but then stops and spins around instead to go back to stirring the curry. “Shut up,” he says to the stove, flustered.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #divinity kink #adult omens #mod d

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bethelighthalazia · 1 month

Text

Nightmares

Summary: You´re having a nightmare which truly terrifies you enough to get triggered by your best friend´s nickname for you. But, your friends and especially your boyfriend are there to calm you down.

Genre: angst, fluff, horror

Pairing: bf!Wooyoung x fem!reader

Word Count: 2198

Warnings: mentions of blood, dead bodies, minor injuries

[note: used a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting!]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Lungs burning, yearning for air, calves cramping, yet you didn´t stop running. Your feet hit the ground hard, have you been barefoot the whole time? How long have you been running already? Time seemed stilled. With a pained yelp, you stumbled, your foot had met a stone, which made you fall to the ground. Clouds of dust busting up when your body collides with the floor, tiny pebbles digging into the skin of your palms. Slow footsteps approach you, echoing off the concrete that formed the whole structure. You knew what it was that followed you, who it was. It didn't make it any less frightening for you though. Your scraped palms burning when you pick yourself up again, tears stinging in your eyes when you hear him breathing behind you. “Ohh~ y/n, why are you running?” The voice barely snarled a whisper, yet it sounded as if it would be right beside your ear. This voice should be comforting for you, yet it sends a shiver down your spine, the little hairs in your neck standing up. Your tears blur your vision and you stumble once again, finding yourself crashing onto the cold concrete once more. He had caught up with you, you could feel his presence. Your hands wrapped around an item, a bracelet which slipped off of a wrist you were to hold onto, it's hard to make out the initials that had been engraved in it, filled and smeared with blood now. The scraping of metal against the concrete and then the swishing noise of it stopping right next to your ear let your blood freeze, eyes wide open. Drip. Ruby droplets falling from the blade that´s held close to you. Drip. Hitting your shoulder, the fabric of your clothes painted bloody. Drip. A cold, cruel laughter filling the air around you, seven faces looking down at your kneeling figure. A body in front of you, his usually lively brown eyes staring into nothing, you could easily make out the little mole under his left eye. "You're next, y/nnie~” The voice hums in a singsang, a sound you usually love, but now? Only one person always calls you this and in any other situation, it would be calming, but hearing it here, it frightened you even more. The last thing you hear, a metallic ringing in the air and your own scream.

A scream which continues when you sit up straight in your bed, hands clenched into the soft fabric of the blanket, cold sweat coating your skin and making Wooyoung's shirt, that you wear for sleeping, stick against you. Several footsteps trample down the hallway, Seonghwa the first to burst into your room, hair disheveled. Wooyoung's eyes wide open as he pushes himself past his hyung to reach you.

“Jagi, I'm here, what's wrong?” He asks breathlessly, one knee on your bed as he carefully reaches out to cup your cheek. “Did something happen?” You couldn´t bring out a word yet, your breath hitched and your heart beating hard against your ribcage. The boys just exchanged a glance and Seonghwa hushed the others back to bed, heading to the kitchen himself to get some water for you before he then leaves you and your boyfriend alone.

"N- nightmare." Your throat is dry, so you hastily grab the glass from Wooyoung now, emptying it in almost one go. Hands trembling, you hold onto the glass for a few moments, trying to remember the dream you just had, but it is as if it dissolves the longer you try to pull details back into your mind. Wooyoung gently takes the glass from you and gets into your bed next to you, his arms wrapping around your still shaking body. “Woo, I´m sweaty, you don-” You start, your voice still trembling, but he just shakes his head. “You're shaking like a leaf in a tornado, jagi. I don´t mind, we also cuddle after dance practice.” His voice is soothing, the lingering feeling of fear in your chest slowly subsiding when your head rests against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. When he lays back into the mattress with you against him, Wooyoung frowns while quietly humming your favorite melody for you. His fingers dancing over the skin of your back, he had slipped his hand under your shirt, you slowly dozed off again, this time, a dreamless sleep washing over you.

The next morning, you find yourself tangled into his arms, his hot breath fanning against your cheek. You can't help but smile softly, brushing some hair out of his face to just look at him. though, when your gaze stops at the mole under his eye, you suddenly remember his lifeless expression of your dream and it brings a quiet sob across your lips. This sound makes him shift against you, his fingers slowly returning to draw some shapes on your back as he opens his eyes. “Morning, jagi. Are you feeling better?” He hums sleepily to which you just nod, not exactly sure how you truly feel. If you were to describe your feelings, it would be a mix of uncertainty, fear and the feeling of drowning, even though you can breathe properly. But you also feel love, for Wooyoung and for the boys who let you be happy with their best friend.

“Hungry?” Wooyoung asks with a little chuckle, which quiets down quickly when he notices your expression. “Or…do you want to sleep some more?” Concern washing over his features, Wooyoung slowly sits up with you, head tilted slightly as he tries to read you. “No, we should eat some…and I have to apologize to the others for waking them.” Clearing your throat, you peck his lips and then head to the bathroom, leaving a worried and confused Wooyoung behind on the bed. Whatever this dream was about, it had a big impact on you, yet he couldn't figure out what it was. When you came out of the bathroom again, Wooyoung had left to get dressed himself, so you slowly made your way into the kitchen, not noticing San behind you when you walked into the living area of the dorms.

“Did you get some more sleep, y/nnie?” This nickname for you let you freeze in the doorway, your breath hitched and San walked right into you, he didn't notice that you had stopped. “Wh- Hey, are you okay y/nnie?” Breathing suddenly got hard, as if something has wrapped around your chest and squeezed all air out of you, your phone dropping from your hand. The noise of it lets everyone else spin around to you.

“Jagi?” Carefully approaching you, Wooyoung opened his arms and you just let yourself fall forwards, your legs not listening to any orders your brain gives. Your hands clench into the fabric of his shirt and your whole body again trembles while your boyfriend just looks at his best friend with a confused look on his face, which San returns no less surprised. “Jagi, you´re shaking…are you cold? Maybe you´re getting a cold?” He hums, your body warming up in his embrace, but you can't fully shake off the fear that's slowly creeping into your heart once again.

“I- I don´t know…I had a nightmare about you, Woo.” Your words come in a whisper, almost as if you'd have to force yourself to speak. In an attempt to cheer you up a little, he gave you a small smile, head tilted. “Did I look hot in it?” He asks, but the look on your face lets him go quiet in an instant, the wrinkles around his eyes from laughing turning into a deep frown. “You- you looked dead in it…”

Your words leave the whole room in silence, even though the others just had a lively conversation about the plans for the day. All eyes on you, you felt small, like back in the nightmare. But now, you had your Wooyoung holding you in his arms. The faces weren't filled with cruel amusement, but with concern and love. The other seven members loved you just as much, they saw you as their sister, one of them, while Wooyoung gave you his heart, and he held yours dearly.

“I- I'm sorry,I shouldn't have joked jagiya. H- how do you feel? Do you want to cuddle on the sofa?” His voice was calm and soft and when you nodded, he just lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his middle, and carried you to the sofa, where he sat down with you on his lap. Seonghwa had made some tea which he brought you a cup of, the others following their hyung and sitting around you, some on the sofa, some on the floor.

“You don't have to worry, okay? I'm here jagi and I won't leave you.” Wooyoung hummed while you slowly drank your tea, his fingers gently brushing through your hair, he knows that this always soothes your nerves. “Do you…do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps?” This offer, tempting as it was, caused another shiver to run down your spine. You're not sure if you could talk about it, to live through the nightmare once more while telling them. Yet, you took a deep breath and then you heard your own voice, shaky and quiet.

“It was dark, not a real place, just concrete as ground…” You started, trying to pull the dream into your mind again, a frown on your face. “I ran, someone was following me and I fell. I had your bracelet in my hand…it was covered in blood-” At your words, Wooyoung lifted his arm, so you could see the bracelet around his wrist. It was a simple one, a chain with only one pendant attached to it, a heart with angel wings, the date of your first meeting engraved in one wing, your and his initials on the other wing. “It's here, see? And no blood.” Reassuring words of him, he lowered his arm again and continued to caress your hair, not without placing a kiss on your head.

“Hmh, no blood. I- in my dream…someone was following me, h- he had a sword…and- and h- he had S- San's voice. A- and-” A hiccup and a quiet sob stopped your words, your whole body trembling, your gaze fixated on the cup in your hands. “Shh, it's okay. Take a deep breath, jagi. San is here too, and he has no sword. Besides, if he'd follow you, then only to hug and cuddle you to make me jealous, right?” Wooyoung chuckled quietly, knowing exactly how to ease your nerves and calm you down again. You nodded and after taking a deep breath, you looked up, seeing a smiling San, his smile gentle and showing his dimples. This actually caused you to let out a quiet chuckle.

“T- the others were there too…I don't kn- know why, but you laid there…i- in front of me and the others stood around us…a- and San's sword was next to m- my head and…and he said I'm next and th- then I f- felt the blade on my neck and- and then-” The others looked at each other in concern, Seonghwa quickly grabbed the cup of tea from your hand when he noticed your hands shaking heavily now. To this, Wooyoung didn't know what to say, or do. His caressing on your head didn't stop once, but he pulled you closer into his arms, as if to try and show you that you're safe.

“Don't worry, jagi. It was just a nightmare, I promise.” He whispered, swallowing and looking at his hyungs, hoping that they'd have words for you that would calm you down. “Wooyoung is right, y/n. It was a nightmare. You had a lot on your mind the last weeks, it was stressful and you only just moved in here. Something like this can cause such bad dreams to happen sometimes.” Hongjoong, who was sitting next to you and Wooyoung, had spoken in a soft voice, your head turning slightly to look at him, he also had a smile on his lips, gently brushing hair out of your face with his finger.

“We all love you, sweetheart. And no one would ever try to hurt Wooyoung or you. We promise.” He continued, placing a hand on his heart, almost as if to show you how serious his words are meant. When you nodded, you could feel Woo let out a breath he had held in, your arms wrapped around him. Behind you, you heard someone shuffle, another kiss pressed against the back of your head.

“I am sorry y/nnie…whatever dream-me did, I hope you know that I'd never be able to hurt you…and that I'd do anything to help you and Woo safe, right?” San asked quietly and you nodded, turning your head to him now. You knew that none of your friends would ever harm one of you, the dream just felt so real and frightened you. “I know, Sanie. I just…I was frightened because it felt too real…and because I am always scared to lose Woo…or any of you all.”

taglist: @mingis-mizu

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez angst #ateez oneshot #ateez imagines #ateez fluff

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freesia-writes · 1 year

Photo

ART BY @shyranno

Woke up to this gem this morning and decided to use it as a little writing prompt because I just love it so dang much. @shyranno‘s artwork makes me smile every time. Anyway, I’m new to Tumblr, fanfic, HCs, and all of this, so forgive me if I’m doing any of it “wrong”. ;) That being said... These will all be PG-13 suggestive fluff. Enjoy. And forgive me in advance. And yes, I will be doing all of them. ;)

Waking up with The Bad Batch

Part 1 - Hunter

He’s woken up a bit before you, content to lay on his back and ponder the world, one arm thrown behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. He senses your return to consciousness, rolling onto his side to face you, propping his head up on an elbow as a few chunks of hair fall lazily onto his cheek and eyebrow. You see him and smile blearily, wiping a hand across your eyes before stretching luxuriously with a sigh. As you relax on your back into the soft bed beneath, he reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, and relaxes the arm underneath his head, laying down to nuzzle close to your cheek and neck.

You lift an arm from underneath his, gently tracing fingertips along his bare bicep, following the curves down to his elbow, his forearm, his wrist, then back up, listening to his steady breathing next to your ear. You trace his arm back down to his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing it to your mouth to kiss his knuckles, earning a gentle rumble from his throat.

You relish the peace and quiet for a while, watching flecks of dust dance in the rays of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the window coverings. But alas, all good things must come to an end, and it’s time to get going for the day. “Come on,” you say, starting to sit up underneath his arm, pushing it down to your lap as you get up. You move toward the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side, and he scoots to the edge behind you, still laying down, placing a hand tenderly on your hip.

“Just five more minutes,” Hunter muses, smooth voice slightly lower than usual, “Or twenty...”

You smile, turning to trace the lines of the tattoo down the side of his cheek, and lean down to place one last light kiss on his lips, indescribably soft after a night of sleep. Pulling back, you go to get up, making it almost fully to your feet before he is sitting up behind you with lightning speed.

“Hey, that’s an order,” he croons, reaching both arms around your hips and pulling you down. You fall on the bed on top of him, laughing as the two of you make a clumsy heap on the sheets. He moves you to lay on top of him on your back, facing the ceiling, head tilted back over the curve of his chest and shoulder.

He traces both hands up your sides, gently pushing up your soft night shirt to the bottom of your ribcage, fingers tracing tantalizing lines up and down the curves of your waist, sending an electric current through your entire body. He takes a deep breath, and you can feel his energy stirring. He turns his face toward your head, and his whisper against your hair sends a shiver down your spine.

“We might be here a while.”

#tbb #tbb hunter #tbb x reader #tbb fanfiction #tbb fanart #the bad batch #the bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #tbbfanfic #tbb headcanons #the bad batch headcanons

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thelovelylolly · 3 months

Note

Tech bb 1 and 9 from ur valentines prompt list

Take Care of You

Summary: After a close call on a mission, you find comfort in Tech Warnings: mentions of violence and injuries Word Count: 705 Notes: I LOVE TECH OMG HOW HAVE I NOT WRITTEN FOR HIM BEFORE????? I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE ITS BAD AHHHHH

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how little pain you felt. The last thing the remembered was a rouge bomb going off close to you, throwing you yards away and knocking you out. You tried to sit up, then the pain caught up with you, hitting you on your back.

"Ah, you are awake," Tech's voice came from beside you.

You realized you were in your bunk on the Marauder, and you turned your head to see Tech by your side with his datapad in hand.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, typing away as he spared a quick glance up at you.

"Sore," you mumbled as you slowly turned yourself to dangle your legs on the edge of your bunk.

"I suggest you stay here for a bit longer, I'll give you another dose of pain medication in an hour and then you can begin to move around," Tech quickly said when he noticed you sitting on the edge of your bed.

"How long was I out?"

"Only a few hours. We've been traveling in hyperspace, so you haven't missed anything of importance. You are lucky, any closer and that explosion could've caused more serious injuries."

You looked over at him just as he looked up at you, your gazes meeting. He adjusted his goggles and didn't look back down at his datapad like usual.

"I'm also lucky I have a great squad member to take care of me," you said with a weak smile.

You could see pink dust Tech's cheeks, but he acted like he didn't notice his face warming up.

"Yes, well, I only trust myself when it comes to taking care of injuries like the ones you sustained. I don't believe you'd want Wrecker to tend to your injuries," he replied, looking back down at his datapad.

You laughed weakly, only to be cut off by a sharp pain from your back. You inhaled sharply through your teeth before trying to breath through the pain.

"How much long did you say until I got another dose of pain meds?"

"About an hour, I'm sorry I can't give it to you any sooner. I'll leave you to get some rest until then," he answered.

"You don't need to leave so soon," you quickly said right before he turned to leave.

His gaze found yours again. "Why is that? There is nothing I can assist you with, so I should give you some quiet time in order to sleep."

You patted the space next to you on your bunk, and Tech hesitantly sat next to you. He turned his eyes to the wall across from the two of you, setting his data on the side opposite of you. Slowly, you leaned your head on his shoulder, his somewhat cold armor offering some distraction to your pain.

You felt Tech tense at your action, then start to relax. A moment or two later, his arm came up and around you, careful not to brush up against any of your injuries. He rested his hand on your shoulder and held you close, his head leaning on top of yours.

You smiled, grateful for the peace and quiet with him. You felt yourself wanting to fall asleep again, a yawn escaping you, but you didn't want to fall asleep on Tech. You didn't want to keep him from his other jobs on the ship, so you tried to move away to let him go.

"Wait," his arm wrapped tighter around you, careful not to hurt you with your injuries but strong enough to keep you where you were, "don't pull away...not yet."

"I don't wanna fall asleep on you, Tech," you reply quietly.

"If it means you are distracted enough from the pain to get some rest, then you can fall asleep on me, cyar'ika. I'll wake you up when it's time for your next dose of medication."

You smiled at his sweet words, whether he meant them as sweet or not.

He picked up his datapad with his free hand and started to scroll through some article, his other hand absentmindedly running up and down your arm gently. You closed your eyes and let Tech's breathing lull you to sleep.

#tech x reader #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tech x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch tech

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ticklystuff · 2 months

Text

Energy to Burn

a/n: inspired by gaming's teapot dialogue (pls ignore thoma standing there menacingly i was too lazy to remove him for the pic..)

for some context, a lot of ppl that celebrate lunar new year will clean their homes prior to the new year! but ya i was supposed to upload this before lantern rite and that did not happen so just pretend i did

wc: ~1.8k

summary: aether has the very relatable problem of someone else doing his chores, oh the horror

---

Hallway clean.

Counters sheen.

Kitchen kempt.

House pristine.

Aether's eyes scanned over the entirety of his living space, taking in the now well-organized room. Sloppy would be misleading in terms of how to describe himself and Aether did enjoy cleaning on the occasion, yet a certain floating companion could easily offset his progress. Compound that with constant settled dust and dirt while being away and keeping the teapot spotless becomes a massive ordeal. He did his best, he really did, but things were never exactly how Aether liked them.

Yet as much as his own reflection in the countertops was pleasing to the eye, Aether couldn't help but release a lowly sigh, recalling a conversation from the day prior.

"Now, I know you won't let me pay any rent while I'm here, 'cause we're friends and all, but I will at least insist on making myself useful. So, if you catch me cleaning or gardening at any point — don't try and stop me."

It didn't take a genius to deduce the "culprit" behind the state of the teapot and Aether soon found himself running through the hallways of the house, crying out to his guest, always taking a second to marvel at the cleanliness of each room, before bolting to a different area of the building.

"Gaming! Gaming!!"

A brief run-through of the kitchen area rewarded Aether with a clue for his efforts: a propped open backdoor to the garden area. Lo and behold, there Gaming was, kneeling down to feed the numerous cats Aether liked to bring home to the teapot, seemingly oblivious to the blond's nearby presence. The dancer's current attire heavily clashed with the colorful flora he stood amongst, adorning a simple grey t-shirt that gave a slight peek of his midriff, baggy shorts that fell past his knees, and his usual shoes improperly slipped on. As Aether approached the other, he couldn't help but notice the little tune Gaming hummed, bobbing his head along. Lacking the usual accessories, Gaming's disheveled hair flew about in the breeze without a care.

"Gaming?" Aether slowly approached the other, prompting him to practically jump in response.

"Oh- woah! Morning, boss!" Gaming giggled, catching himself in the moment. "Look at these little guys! They love the treats I brought them! Oh, and speaking of which, did you see the breakfast I made? It's nothing special, but I prepared some congee for you. I also found some pumpkins laying around and cut them up, if you'd like to add them to your dish!"

"Ah, I haven't eaten yet," Aether nodded, watching the cats devour their food, "but I just wanted to thank you for cleaning up the house."

"Oh, it's no problem-"

"But also, you really don't need to go through all this effort," Aether quickly interjected. "You're a guest here and you should really be enjoying your time, not doing my chores."

"Uh-uh, no can do, boss!" Gaming gave another grin, not a beat missed in his reply. "I've already told you that's not how it's going to fly. Plus, who says I'm not having a good time doing your chores?"

"Gaming.."

"Heh, don't sweat it," he tilted his head, before huffing in reassurance. "My po po always taught me that I should always show gratitude to my host for having me as a guest. Besides, it's almost Lantern Rite and it's customary to clean your home before then. I know this isn't my own place, but it's where I'm staying for now, so might as well!"

"Well, not to this extent." He couldn't help but sigh, feeling conflicted, yet at the same time, Gaming didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"Don't worry about it," Gaming clicked amusedly with his tongue. "Just think of it as a productive way for me to burn all my energy for the day!"

"I suppose." Didn't really help him feel less bad about the whole thing, though.

"Alrighty then!" Gaming placed his hands on his hips in thought. "What's next on the agenda- Ah! H-Hehehey!" The sudden outburst took Aether by surprise, taking a moment to realize why. Now out of food, the cats Gaming had been generously feeding were brushing along the bare lower parts of his legs, some even pawing at his shins, meowing as if crying out for more food.

"N-No, get awahahay!" the brunet continued to giggle, hopping between each leg to avoid the encircling horde of kittens clamoring for their next snack. "H-Here!" Gaming quickly reached into his pocket, throwing out a surplus of treats that was enough to divert the attention of his new following.

And the whole time, Aether had been observing.. watching.. stewing the little idea that the teapot cats have so graciously handed to his brain on a silver platter. If Gaming had extra energy burn, he could certainly help with that.

"Whew," Gaming sighed in relief once the cats had dispersed. "Do you not feed them here? Why are they so hun- WahH! Hey! Boss, w-what're you-?! N-Nohoho! Nahahat you too!"

In his distracted state, it wasn't particularly difficult for Aether to bowl the other over, easily pinning Gaming to the grassy garden of the teapot. Once ready, Aether set his plan into motion, digging into the sides that were oh-so conveniently exposed thanks to Gaming's choice of current attire.

"You mentioned having a little extra energy to spare," Aether teased, pinching at the exposed sides in succession to create an erratic giggly response. "Thought that maybe I could help with that."

"Nahahat like thihihis!" Gaming shook his head with a smile, showing off the widest dimples adorning his cheeks. "I-I wahahas juhuhust trying to heheEHEHELP!"

Aether couldn't help but grin along, having just hit a particularly good spot that elicited the cutest squeals. He continued to make use of the newfound discovery, circling the area around Gaming's navel with the tips of his finger nails in repeated motions to draw out the contagious laughter. "Y'know this is your fault, right? If you hadn't started feeding the cats, I would have never found out you're so ticklish."

"Th-That dohohohesn't mahahake any sehehense!" Gaming kicked his legs and patted away at the hands that lightly clawed all over his midsection, but it was for naught, as Aether had no intent on stopping any time soon. "Ehehehehahaha! StahahAHAhahap!"

"I could," Aether drew out with his tongue, making sure to really dig into the vulnerable waist with incessant pokes, feeling Gaming's body lurch and his legs kick to escape the way Aether effectively straddled him, "if you promise to relax during the rest of your stay."

"NEHEHEVEHEHER!"

Aether shrugged his shoulders, perfectly fine with Gaming's stubbornness, if that's what suited him. His laughter was the best part, Aether soon realized; there was something softly warm to it, akin to nibbling into a slice of freshly baked bread. No matter the flavor of laughter, whether it be the sharp yelps from squeezing his thighs to the squeals Gaming would make whenever his navel was targeted, or maybe the bouncy giggles from tasing his sides, the lush vibrant undertones were never absent, satiating Aether's ears in the most fulfilling way possible. He was so content with the current situation that the reason the two were there nearly slipped his mind, until the sight of Gaming's tomato cheeks caught Aether by surprise.

"Hehe, oops," Aether giggled, giving his hands and Gaming a pause. "Well, have we burned enough energy for today?"

"Nuh-uh," Gaming finally shook his head. Breathless as he may be, there was still the faintest glimmer of vigor behind his smile. "I can do this all day."

"Hmph, me too." His hands poised once again, prompting Gaming's limbs to tense in response, yet Aether found himself stopping midair. If Gaming didn't break from everything tried so far, then it would only make sense to switch up his target, but where to? So far, nothing had worked, the boy seemingly a boundless well of laughter and energy, but surely there'd be something..

"What's wrong?" Gaming spoke up, his voice not having fully recovered yet. "Given up yet?"

"Heh, no," Aether lightly tweaked his hips, causing his arms to flail, before his arms landed uselessly on the grass next to.. a discarded shoe?? The blond blinked twice, taking a moment to piece together that one of Gaming's slippers must've flung off during all the kicking he was doing, which meant..

Aether quickly slid downwards, ensnaring the bare foot in an armlock before Gaming could make a move, creating what seemed to be panicked shaking from behind. "H-Hey, wait a minute," Gaming's voice could be heard running a mile a minute, as his free leg pressed against the grass in a last attempt to escape. "Okay, okay this is mean! No, no, no, you don't have to- NohohOHOHO! W-WahahahAIT!"

The effect was almost instant, as Aether scribbled up and down the sensitive sole, eliciting crackled laughter from its owner. He took a second to take a peek behind him, giggling at the scene of Gaming uselessly covering his face with his hands as muffled helpless laughter poured through. There was the occasional kick to his backside from the other spasming leg, but Aether made sure to reward those with a few rougher scrapes to his foot. "Surrender yet?"

"WahAHAHAHA!"

"I didn't hear a yes," Aether snickered, drowned out by Gaming's wailing, feeling the trapped leg buck in his grasp. His fingers ran up the length of the sole, earning himself squeal whenever he reached the base of Gaming's toes, before sliding back down to his heel.

"Okay! Okahahahay! Stahahap! I gihiHIHIVE!"

Just for good measure, Aether delivered a few more pressurized pokes to the middle of his foot, listening as Gaming slapped his hands on the grass in defeat amongst the pleading. When he eventually released his leg, Aether was surprised to see the limb fall limp instead of being pulled back to safety, though he supposed this was a good sign that Gaming's energy was finally spent.

"Urgh, why," the brunet groaned, exhausted without a doubt. "This is what I get for being a good person."

"No, it's what you get for being stubborn," Aether chided with a shake of his head, before offering his hand to help the other on his legs. Once Gaming stood up, Aether couldn't help but ruffle the disheveled mess of brown hair in an attempt at brushing away the pieces of grass caught in the strands.

"Mmm," Gaming shook his head, before running his fingers through his hair a couple of times. "Maybe you won today, but there's always tomorrow's chores. You can't totally stop me."

Aether rolled his eyes in response. "Is that so?" he said, fingers wiggling towards Gaming's sides.

"Okay, okay!" Gaming already began giggling again, jumping back to safety. "I'll learn to chill."

"Promise?"

Gaming sighed, almost as if he had something else to say, only to shake his head. "Fine, promise."

#gaming #aether #genshin impact #tickling

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spacemilkies · 1 year

Text

stress management

pairing: könig x reader

rqt: [] yes [x] no

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i promised to write about this fandom ages ago but got distracted as usual. but hey, can we talk about this new autosave feature. saved a life today.

synopsis: könig knows how to fix a very bad, no good day

warnings: on the job stress. fingering. könig is a literally a king

if he knows one thing, könig knows a lot about hard limits. he grew up on the cusp surviving the severity of emotional cruelty at a young age. so he, subjectively, knew better than anyone the signs of a very bad, no good day.

he was pre-warned throughout the day by both colleagues and indirectly yourself. his off-days were few and far between and rarely matched with yours, so he spent the first three hours straightening up the flat when he got the text about the surprise inspection.

being part of the special forces did not excuse unscheduled routine checks and more often than not it never failed to catch soldiers off guard. he was one of those, metaphorically caught with his pants below the knees more than once. the job came with many expectations, it was impossible to keep up with them all.

but you.

you were a perfectionist, priding yourself with promptness and precision. as a weapons specialist, your caches were always primed and ready. you were so particular, it had become normal for you to customize specific loadouts for different teams and specializations. each freight equipped with situation fixed accessories and artillery.

it set you up for a lot of success but equally as much failure on the wrong day.

the warning came from fender, the demolitionist expert whom praised you as his saving grace on more than one occasion. könig trusted him to watch your back in the field in his absence, the tacked on friendship came later after the result of too many beers and a local football match.

you valued all your loadouts, but there were a few that picked up dust. the speciality meant that you catered to all factions, but lately kortac favored tactical contestation over free-roam agency. a forgotten division that apparently took precedence today, and unfortunately you off guard.

there was no telling the severity of the reprimand, for something as simple as a short bullet count could count towards you. but he knew your reliability favored higher than the marks. it wouldn't stain your record, but it would certainly ruin your day.

könig had given you an hour after receiving the news to see if you would seek him out. he had no doubt that you would spend the rest of the day clearing and taking inventory of every cache on deck and likely recalling some others. when it became apparent that you weren't in the mood for comfort, he decided to strategize another approach.

it became increasingly apparent just how much the failed inspection wore down on you when you arrive home in a /mood. könig was ready, however, alerted by the pointed click of the front door closing.

he’s a picture of openness, relaxed comfortably against the wall adjoining the kitchen and the hall as you kick away your shoes and stack them neatly at the door. he always finds it adorable how your persistence to structure is retained regardless of any emotion. it’s what makes you so good at your job and so proud.

könig knows though, that now is not the time to mention work, instead opting to great you with his usual kiss and squeeze at the waist. you never withhold affection when it comes to external factors, though your reciprocation is a muted affair.

könig matches your reservation at first, cataloging your stiff posture and rigid movements. he can see the tension taut in every muscle of your body, more obvious in the way you handle appliances and when your back is turned to him.

he knows you’re not yet ready to talk about it, so he offers peace another route, attentive to your reaction as he slides against you from behind. between the two of you, it’s difficult to catch one another off guard with your actions, on the job training making it imperative to be cognitive of your surrounds.

so he’s assured that his approach is consented if not yet wholly welcomed as his fingers deftly unravel your hand from whatever you have in your grasp. könig is aware that he has a lot of ground to cover in the short range of your allowance before you catch on. he swallows your instinctive complaint, coaxing you into a rhythm of lips and tongue distinctive to your relationship.

it’s a difficult angle for him to kiss, and likely stiff your neck to meet him over your shoulder due to his height, but it’s a perfect way to keep you secure. with the right tactic, he only needs a few minutes to effectively bring you down a few notches.

he loves when you curl beautifully into his touch, the role of a nurturer falling seamlessly into his palms when you allow yourself to be pliable like this. the two of you share the role, knowing when taking the mantle is necessary. könig has never let his size dictate a relationship, preferring to rely on healthy communication to assign what was needed in any giving situation.

you gasp into his mouth when his knuckles first brush against heat of your sex beneath your pants. the way you immediately latch onto the gesture and draw your hips away from the counter in invitation, give him all the approval he needs to make quick work of your fastenings.

he planed for it all to be hasty but thorough. just enough to workout the initial frustrations before offering you the soundbox and a meal. he knew from experience that not all things could be talked out, but effective comfort could come from other gestures of affection. if all you wanted was an orgasm and hot shower, he’d pluck your strings until only he could keep you upright then carry you to the bath himself.

könig moves the articles of clothing out of place rather than pulling them down, easily finding the elastic at your inner thigh and slipping his fingers underneath. he is ready when your knees go weak, his free arm holding you at the waist as he slides a digit into the stretch of your body. you’re no longer invested in his offered kiss, so he pulls away in favor of blooming small red blossoms against the skin of your throat as his thumb strokes your pearl with each punctuated nip of his teeth.

the rate at which you wet his fingers only strengthens his decision to go down this route as he adds another finger to your weeping entrance, teasing them into a slow thrust that already has you tightening in anticipation. the hidden danger of a calculating mind gave way for perceptiveness to detail as he stroked your most sensitive walls with practiced ease.

the flat of his tongue traces the line of your jaw, the even exhale through his nose leaving a slight chill against the dampness left behind. “no matter what sours your day, i will be here to make it better,” he promises against your ear.

he’s aware that he makes it impossible for you to reply, but it’s intentional. for now he just wants you to feel— soak in all his love and adoration until is washes away everything on the opposite side of the threshold of the door.

your head drops back against his shoulder, as your hips undulate with the rise of your toes as you attempt to meet him on each upward drive you’re sure the roses he’s littered against the column of your throat have brightened under the heat of your flush, projecting as beacon of your obvious pleasure.

any thoughts of returning the favor are effectively cut off by a twist of his wrist as the calloused pads of his fingers create friction with a bundle of nerves.

it’s tacky and slick as he glides through your passage. a particular angle brings him knuckle deep, as his thumb continues to rotate in circles without rest. you’re well gone by this point but he exhausts the point by crooking his touch inward to produce white spots in your vision as your eyes flutter shut. your body trembles with the effort of wading through the anticipation as pleasure coils in your stomach and radiates to pressure at the base of your spine.

somehow your threshold allows you to pinpoint the roundness of his nose as it meets the crown of your head. the tone of his voice dropping as his fingers widen to spread you open to his touch,” let go, little maus.”

and you follow the command like a wave pulling you to the sea, the sensations lapping over you in a consistent current. könig remains insistent, blunt nail scraping hypersensitive tissue until you squirm. he hums a note of satisfaction as you squeeze one last time before going limp in his hold.

you inhale sharply when his touch leaves you, but voice no complaint when soiled his fingers run excessively over your thighs to get rid of some of your release still clinging to them.

his lips return to your hairline, and there’s a delay before you realize the movement is intended to form words.

“…now then, tell me about your day.”

you can 100% send me your thots on this man. i can go on for days

#könig x reader #konig x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #könig mw2 #call of duty imagine

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koishiro · 7 months

Text

# - 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : bumping into (what you thought was) your enemy on a winters morning, you realise he isn’t so much of the annoying boy you once thought he was. bakugo just wants you to know how deeply he feels for you, chasing that hug that was ripped so viciously away from him

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : slight angst to fluff??

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 2k

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : i put this off for so long… (this is actually kinda pointless)

masterlist | bnha masterlist

I bundled myself up in my winter coat — the same old grey one my mother had bought me years prior, slowly falling apart yet still thick and warm. I hadn’t walked a block before I felt the chill of an impending snowstorm settling around my shoulders like a blanket; but undaunted by what lies ahead on this brisk morning walk towards the school building, I gathered up the courage to continue. There's something special about stepping out into nature after all - no matter what conditions lay ahead.

The cold morning air numbed my nose as the icy breath of winter settled upon the landscape. It was colder than usual, prompting me to draw my coat tightly around myself in an effort to contain my body's warmth. The trees were beautiful that day, with no green leaves in sight—just a blanket of fresh white snow dancing by way of a glimmering light between them and reflected off the frozen-over lake where a few daring children slid across its surface like seals on ice.

There was something indefinable in the crisp air and soft light of this morning that made me feel more alive. Everywhere around, colors shone in a sharper hue than usual, and birdsong sang through the trees with a special clarity. I half-closed my eyes and breathed it all in - cinnamon spice from somewhere nearby mingling with the smoky scent of woodfires out on nearby stalls; remembering shared Christmases back home surrounded by family laughter; wondering what they'd be doing right now.

I had been living in Japan not too long and was attending the prestigious U.A High School, where heroes came to refine their abilities and skills. But despite my best efforts, there was one boy who seemed to have a problem with me; he always picked on me for no reason other than maybe his own insecurity or jealousy of my growing reputation as a powerful hero. His taunts were unrelenting and every time I encountered him it felt like an assault from the inside out – I could let myself be thrown off balance by his words or strive to take back control of what he thought would break me down.

You were well aware of Bakugo's temper, which could sometimes spiral into an eruption of unchecked anger. But the most incredible thing about him was his restraint. Despite this misdirected fury, you never saw Bakugo direct it at anyone in particular — not even you who he had made a habit of singling out for years previously. It seemed that though his voice rose to a deafening pitch and those flares of emotion coursed through him like electricity, they somehow remained safely contained until they could eventually be dissipated in harmless fizzles and scowls against the wall or table instead aimed at any living soul.

Bakugo was a raging storm in human form, his temper quick to flare and his voice booming even when he wasn't speaking. His words were always tinted with anger or annoyance whenever you had the misfortune of being within earshot. You would frequently find yourself watching him from afar, holding your breath as if bracing for some kind of ripple effect akin to dropping a pebble in still water - any attempt at conversation instantly dissipated like dust in the wind no matter how innocent it seemed and although you never really liked him, there was an air of resignation that surrounded both your interactions; one born out of desperation and necessity rather than out of desire.

Still, something was different this time as he looked at you with a newfound emotion, like he had just caught a dazzling vision come to life outside the barriers that both societies had seemingly placed between you. His words were more gentle now and even in the cold winter air around you felt an unrestrained warmth; one that rapidly began to thaw your heart and have it beat with a foreign feeling you had never experienced before.

Bakugo stood before me like a soldier at rest – tall and proud, but still uncertain. His breath was visible in the cold winter air as he exhaled heavily. He wore his usual confidence on top of an otherwise unreadable face, clad in a fluffy navy bobble hat, the kind with woolen pom-poms and a soft foldover band. His signature orange winter coat was cut and draped around him like an ancient cape; two large buttons on either side kept it secured against his body. His feet were sheathed in high black Doc Martens - thick leather uppers, heavy rubber soles – which gave him both stability and protection from whatever might threaten below.

Tension emanated from him and his eyes flickered with nervous energy as he shifted from one foot to the other, not knowing what to say or do next. Despite this display of uncertainty I could feel how strong he was beneath it all; a force too powerful for any mere words or actions by himself alone to suppress.

The same could be said of me, though I was more shy and introverted compared to him. A soft pink scarf hung from my end, complimenting my skin and my hair situated in an intricate updo. I drew strength from his presence, becoming bolder as he shifted from one foot to the other.

He gestured with his outstretched hand, the metal of my house keys glinting in the morning light. "You dropped this, dumbass" he said softly. I looked down to see my own keychain lying in his open palm, each individual key jutting upwards like a tiny hill.

“Oh, thank you Bakugo” I gave a grateful smile and reached out my gloved hand for my keys but before I could take them back, Bakugo's fingers closed around them, drawing them closer to his chest - holding them captive. My gaze shifted to his face where a frown had planted itself across the brows of his deep eyes, “why do you always call me that?”

I gazed up at him, noting the pensive expression that had come across his face. It was clear to me this bothered him - why wouldn't I call him Bakugo? I had no reason to call him anything else nor did I want to. But instead of words, all that came out of my mouth was an uncertain "Sorry?"

His frustration had reached its boiling point. He gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists at his sides as the words left his lips - “you always call me Bakugo. Why?” His expression changed from one of anger to something sadder and more lost, as if he wanted desperately for someone to understand why he felt so frustrated all the time. His arms dropped limply down by his side in a gesture of helplessness and despair before finally turning away from me, instead glaring at the snow covered ground.

He moved forward slowly, his feet grinding out a path in the crisp white snow with each step. His winter coat was like a beacon amidst all the greys and whites of our silent surroundings; marking his presence for me to follow as I kept my distance behind him.

The surrounding trees were frozen and still, their icy frosted leaves reminding me of childhood winters when I stayed up late searching between constellations in night skies trying to find warmth amongst celestial forms. Breaking through our shared silence he muttered something under his breath that seemed small yet profound enough that it urged me closer towards him than ever before without us having said a word.

“‘m sorry”

I abruptly halted my steps, and heard Bakugo follow suit a few feet in front of me. My head spun around to face him, and I uttered in disbelief: “You’re sorry?” The sarcasm of my voice was thick enough to choke on, a scathing undertone only barely contained by its edge of seething contempt. “Do you know what exactly it is that you’re apologising for? Or is this simply another one of your feeble attempts at humour?"

Bakugo shifted uncomfortably in his spot, clearly not used to having to deal with these sorts of feelings - let alone apologise for them. His words were stilted and clumsy as he tried to express himself, "I’m a dick I know, but I don’t mean to be-"

Bakugo cut himself off as soon as he noticed the deadpan look on my face. His mouth quirked downwards into a frown and his eyes darted away from mine. He began to fidget, it was clear he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself in this uncomfortable moment.

He cleared his throat before speaking again, almost uncertainly at first. "I mean... I was aware of what I was doing, and I know you don't exactly like me," His voice was low now; slightly embarrassed by the admission of knowing our strained relationship for too long had been unrequited on both our parts.

"I can't help it," he continued, lifting his gaze back up towards mine. "You're just so... nice" He said the last bit softly, almost as if he were telling me a secret and didn't want anyone else to hear it. I felt my cheeks flush at the sudden compliment and found myself wanting to say something back, but I couldn't think of anything suitable.

I stared up at him as the words spilled out of his mouth, my brows furrowed in confusion, “You get along with everyone and it pisses me off” His voice was laced with frustration and anger, “the stares you get and the way people just find it so easy to approach you - it really fucking pisses me off”

Bakugo held his hands tightly in front of him, his eyes wild and bright with fury. His clenched fists trembled while he spoke, each word coming harder than the last. "And I'm over here thinking over what to say to you every fucking morning," he ranted, "every fucking morning while you greet everyone else in that damn class except for me!"

As the words left him like arrows flying from a bowstring, so did all of his remaining fight. He hung limply between them both; drained by what had just flown from his mouth as if a heavy veil had been lifted revealing something underneath too vulnerable and raw for him to handle.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out why he was so angered by something that had nothing to do with either one of us - why would I greet someone who’d snarl at me either way?

“Remember valentines? Those stupid flowers you got on your desk?”Of course I did, how could I not? It was the first time anyone got me anything remotely thoughtful. “I spent two fucking hours picking them out, for some stupid fucking meaning that got half-and-half a hug - he stole my hug!”

The words hit me like a slap across the face. I would've laughed at the pout on his face if it weren't for the sheer seriousness lacing his voice. He spoke of these small tokens of love with such wistfulness - as though he had been robbed of some deep, passionate feeling that those little flowers held within them.

His unchecked rage and emotions were evident on his features as if someone had given him back an empty box after holding out their hands for something valuable, something precious; his stolen hug.

Bakugo had tried to mask his handwriting without realising how similar it was to Shoto’s…

All this time I had thought it was Shoto who had given me those beautiful pink tulips tied with a delicate white laced bow. The sheer joy and amazement that filled my heart when I saw them sitting on my desk nearly made me squeal in delight. Without thinking, I ran over to where Shoto was standing and wrapped him in an enthusiastic hug only to now realize months later that it was Bakugo's broken frown behind those flowers all along.

”I didn't know…”, my words dragging from me like a broken record. My voice was but a whisper, laden with the pain he must've felt all this time. Those small gestures that had gone unnoticed had meant more than I could have ever guessed; it stung to know that they'd been overlooked completely when all he wanted was for them to be seen by me - for me to understand everything without him having to say anything at all.

“That’s what hurts,” he spoke louder now, but his resolution held no heat or spite - just hurt in its purest form; acknowledgement of what hadn't been realised earlier gracing his lips as I waited to hear whatever it was lingering in his voice.

"All I ever wanted was for you to see me," he said quietly, averting my gaze and swallowing hard before continuing. "I know that none of what I did is forgivable. But all these years, I kept on hoping that maybe someday you would actually see me"

He looked up at me, an unspoken plea in his eyes. "I'm not asking for you to forgive or forget - I just wanted you to understand why I made all of those mistakes, why my life became so disordered and chaotic. All those stupid things I did to you, pulling your hair or kicking your chair - all for you to see me, ‘m sorry”

Those two words had never held so much emotion before. All those teasing moments, all the crying I had done meant nothing yet meant everything.

Closing the small distance between our feet, I hugged him with such warmth it battled his own. Bakugo was clearly shocked at first, not realising its intent would end with my arms wrapped around his middle. He remained motionless for a moment, hesitating before slowly wrapping his own muscular arms around me in an embrace that felt like a shield from the world outside our small bubble of newly found comfort.

“What did they mean?” I said, my voice muffled by his orange puffer jacket. Tilting his head to level my own he stared down at me with a confused look, “the flowers, what did they mean?”

He moved in closer and pushed back the collar of his coat to get a better look into my eyes; I could smell a slight hint of cologne on him that was sweet but faint and it made me shiver slightly in response. His lips parted as if about to speak before he suddenly paused again and ran one hand through the sandy brown tresses on top of his head

“You can’t laugh at me, ‘kay?”

Resting my chin on his chest, I stared up at him in wonder. He mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out; asking him to repeat himself, he mumbled again, this time clearer: “I care for you” Those simple words sent a flood of emotion through me that felt like a million stars lighting up my eyes – “that’s what they mean”

Had I thought I’d be here now, wrapped in the arms of the boy I swore to hate as he whispers these words to me, I would've thought I was crazy.

I felt a warmth spreading through me even though it was colder than cold outside but that didn't matter because my heart no longer held any hate for him anymore; I had let it melt away with the first touch of our embrace beneath that snow-covered sky.

“Can I have my keys back now?”

—

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 (2) : #3 in my 𝘶𝘱𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 / 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘴

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

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parkersbliss · 2 years

Note

hii can i request five's 😭 ( just some back story ; shes one of the sudden birth kids but isnt one of the umbrellas. they knew each other for awhile, helped saving the world. her and five became a couple back in '63 and she died while fighting. )

five saw her when they got back but shes one of the sparrows now. she can read minds?? u can change or add her powers. she tries to read five's then saw them together hehe, her heart's got soften for him

One Minute | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x female!reader

wc; 1,295

warnings: blood, violence, the usual

requests: CLOSED

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

“Who the hell are you assholes?”

Five was used to expecting the unexpected. His whole life it felt like there was never any set reason for anything. Things just happened, and he had learned to not question them.

But this?

He had some questions here.

“Yeah,” Another voice chimed in. “Dad, who are these people?”

Five’s siblings seem just as shocked as he was.

“They claim to be my spawn,” Reggie spoke.

Allison turns around with a confused expression. “Claim? Okay, Five, what the hell is going on?”

Five shrugs. “I don’t know yet, but it’s concerning.” He wasn’t even sure what Allison or Reginald had said. All he could see was you.

You and Ben stood side by side, arms crossed as you stared at the six intruders. One of them with long hair steps forward, trying to hug Ben, and he punches him across the face. The six intruders begin yelling at you and your siblings, and you just roll your eyes. Who the hell did they think they were? Walking into your home and claiming it was theirs. They were deranged, and you were going to figure out why. You look to Ben with a raised brow, and he nods at you.

You step forward, stretching your conscience forward, and into the mind of the man in the hat. As soon as you enter, it’s loud. Things are hitting you in every direction, and you try to push your way through. You try to sort through the chaos, but it’s a jumble of things. Drugs, alcohol, war, the 60s… is that a cult?

You retract after that, stumbling back and shaking your head. The six intruders were siblings, just like you with special abilities, and they were called the Umbrella Academy. And they had time traveled — twice. Marcus shouting brings you back to the issue at hand.

The big blond one tries to reason with your brother, but he punches him straight into the man with a hat. You roll your shoulders back, preparing for a fight when you catch the eyes of the youngest boy. The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver. It was like he was staring right through your soul. You glare at him, throwing up your middle finger before Ben takes care of him.

“Can you stop staring at my sister?” He scoffs, punching the boy in the face. “Pervert.”

You stand back and let the two brooding males fight each other off. You’re shocked by the boy's power. He was good, teleporting across the room and getting the last hit on Ben before he vanishes again. You shrug, walking upstairs only to find him again.

You tilt your head as he whispers something to his sister, and she runs off.

“Ben’s right,” You said. “This whole stare thing is weird.”

Five rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are dusted red out of embarrassment. “Whatever.”

You raise a brow at him. “Are you gonna hit me or?”

“What? No. Why would I—”

He’s cut off when you punch him across the jaw, and he falls to the floor. He clutches the area, offering you a pained look. But not physical pain, it’s emotional. He lays there, staring at you with the same look in your eyes. It's really starting to creep you out. He obviously knows something you don’t, and you were going to find out. You close your eyes and let your conscience fall into his. There’s one clear memory that stands out to you.

Five grabs the gun from the Handler, but not before a single shot rings out. He doesn’t notice at first because soon enough, she’s dead on the ground, and he thinks, ‘thank god.’

“Five!” Allison screams. The boy turns around at the mention of his name and his heart drops.

A girl was on the ground, blood pooling from her chest as she takes ragged breaths. Five drops to his knees next to her, placing her head in his lap, hands shaking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Five whispered.

She blinks slowly. “Five?”

“I’m right here,” He assures.

“I don’t wanna die,” She said through a sob.

He pushes a piece of hair behind her ear, trying to stay strong. “No, don’t say that. You’re not gonna die.”

“Please, please, don’t let me die, Five,” The girl begged, squeezing her eyes shut.

Five places a hand on her cheek, trying to shake her awake. Tears fall from his eyes as he holds her. He was making promises he couldn’t keep. She was dying, and there was nothing he could do but try to comfort her. “Listen to me. You’re gonna be fine, (Y/N). I promise.”

Her lip trembles as dark spots cloud her vision. “I love you, Five.”

Something snaps inside of Five, and he taps her cheek lightly. “(Y/N),” Five said through a panic. “I love you too, (Y/N). Hey, hey, wake up!”

The girl's eyes stayed shut, and Five doubles over, sobbing. She remained limp in his arms, and even though Five knew she wasn’t going to make it, a part of him still hoped. But that hope was gone. She was dead in his arms.

Her bright eyes would never open again. He would never get to hear her say his name again.

She was gone.

And all it took was a minute.

“I—,” You breathe out, stumbling back. Five’s emotions were intense, similar to ocean waves crashing over you. You could feel his pain and the look he gave you made sense. It hadn’t even been a day.

Five gulps, standing back up.

You’re not sure what to say. You don’t even know where to start. How is it that you died? That this boy knew you when you had no recollection of him? You loved him, and yet you didn’t even know his name. Well, before invading his mind.

Five’s closer to you now. His eyes are searching yours for something you’re not sure you can give him.

“I’m not her,” You said softly. “I don’t know you.”

Five nods. “But I do.”

You scoff, stepping back. “So? We’re not the same person.”

“How do you know that?” Five presses, stepping forward.

He’s right. You don’t know for certain that you weren’t that girl. You had different memories, and different circumstances but are you not the same person? You had the same smile, the same crude humor, and love for your family.

He takes another step forward, his hand touching your arm. Your breath feels caught in your throat as you gaze into his eyes. They held so much love for someone he didn’t ‘know.’ There was so much adoration in them as they glossed over.

“You look just like her,” He whispered.

You blink, trying not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. His evergreen eyes trace all the features of your face, and you feel small under it.

“I’m sorry,” You said. “But you have to go.”

“What?”

You back away from him, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards an exit. “You have to go, now.”

“(Y/N)—”

You hear Ben screaming your name, and you turn around to see one of his tentacles and turn back to Five. “Please, just go.”

You can see the hurt in the boy’s eyes, and you sigh. In one quick motion, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll find you again, okay?”

Five’s eyes are wide, but then his face hardens with determination, and he disappears in a flash of blue just as Ben finds you.

“You okay, sis?”

You turn around, slamming the door. “Little shit jumped away.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben assures. “We’ll get them soon enough.”

You offer him a grin, but deep down, you know you weren’t going to let that happen.

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty @umbrellatte @hahaspoilerhaha @mi1kobitch @analuizafernandescavalcante @icarus-star @yuki1s--note @m4nd0l0r @ells-graveyard @eichenhouseproperty @iaevs @oneirataxia-girl @ay4kshalatus s @mysterygirl-14 @speaker15 @ch0c0-cake @sacrificialstars @lilsubbysblog @unhealthyob @chariotte @666abby6666 @zanrioo @bubsonnobx @dontknownameauthor @instabull @xuenihao

#five hargreeves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number five #tua five x reader #tua five #five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five imagine #five headcanons #aidan gallagher #tua s3

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ask-sibverse · 10 months

Text

Prompt requested by @dreamseersystem : "Low Blood Sugar"

Reader X Bad Sanses, feat. the Star Sanses

Your first mistake was probably just eating a salad for lunch.

Well, no, your first mistake was not keeping low blood sugar snacks in your inventory like Horror reminded you to probably a dozen times by now. It's not your fault! It was hard to remember you now had access to something like that!

You probably shouldn't have had just a salad for lunch though. Nightmare had told everyone you all were going on a raid that afternoon and you probably needed the carbs. But you weren't that hungry! And Horror hated having sodas in the castle sooooo. (Not that you usually drank full sugar sodas anyways. Too sweet.)

Your next mistake was not paying attention to your symptoms. To be fair, the Star Sanses had shown up and you had proven yourself surprisingly capable in a fight so they were actually taking you seriously. Your trembling legs and racing heart rate and blurry vision could just as easily be adrenaline, right? And you had more important things to worry about, like dodging Ink's paintbrush.

Of course, then your vision went dark and you collapsed for a few moments and Ink was carrying you and everything was kind of a blur. But you felt someone CHECKing you and a spider donut being pressed to your mouth. Thankfully you were aware enough to swallow. (later you and Horror would talk about what happens if you get low enough to lose consciousness and when to use a glucagon and other things, but that was later).

By the time your blood sugar was up enough for you to actually be with it and fully aware, you were back at the castle, with everyone watching you.

Horror fretted over you especially, low blood sugars seemed to trigger something in him akin to the idea of people he cared about starving. Maybe because the solution to both was food.

Cross was also very openly worried, and asked questions about physical activity and training and food and blood sugars.

The others... Weren't quite as open about it, but you could tell they cared. You spotted a pack of juice boxes in Dust's room, he claimed it was for when he didn't have energy to go to the kitchen for something but they'd only appeared right after the incident and he never seemed to take any for himself.

You stood up too quickly once the next day and stumbled. You could feel a boney arm around your waist almost instantaneously, steadying you while Killer asked about when was the last time you ate and if you'd eaten enough.

Nightmare was even less obvious but. There was something about the way he watched you until your blood sugars were stable and the way he kept making sure you ate "properly" before raids after that... He worried about you too

#bad sanses #bad sanses x reader #horror x reader #horror sans #killer sans #killer sans x reader #cross sans #cross x reader #dust sans #dust sans x reader #dreamtale nightmare #nightmare x reader #t1dreader

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mrprettywhenhecries · 4 months

Text

a little bit of sugar [s.h]

Steve Harrington ✘ f!Reader

⇾ w.c. 1.8k words ⇾ warning(s). f!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering, teasing, semi public sex ⇾ a/n. Day Two of HoHoHoe Week. Prompt - Holiday Baking. Read part one here!

Things get steamy in the kitchen while decorating cookies, but Steve craves something even sweeter.

[ masterlist ]

“Where’re you guys going?” you asked, noticing your parents getting bundled up as you searched through your mom’s recipe box for your grandma’s butter frosting recipe.

“To the mall for a little last minute holiday shopping,” your mom answered, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “What are you two up to?” she countered, lifting an eyebrow at you and Steve.

You couldn’t shake the feeling she knew your boyfriend had gone to visit your room the night before.

“We’re gunna decorate some cookies,” Steve answered, slipping one of your mom’s frilly aprons around his neck, earning an amused grin from you.

“Oh, fun!” your mom chirped, before reminding you where all the sprinkles were, even though their kitchen setup hadn’t changed since you’d lived there.

“See you in a bit,” your dad said, waving as he pulled the door shut behind him.

“Alone again at last,” Steve chuckled, winking at you, and you grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Focus, Steve,” you warned lightly. “We need to get these cookies frosted if we wanna eat any,” you insisted, smacking his hands away playfully when he tried to pull you closer. “Steve!” you laughed, trying to be stern and failing.

“Alright fineee,” Steve sighed, propping his hands on his hips like he usually did when he was being sassy. “What do we need for the frosting?” he asked, looking over your shoulder at the recipe card.

“Powdered sugar, milk, butter, and vanilla extract,” you read off and Steve went to gather the ingredients. “Next cupboard over,” you prompted as he pulled open the wrong one, stretching to search for the powdered sugar and you couldn’t help but admire him from the back, biting your lip as your thoughts returned to the events of the night before.

Catching you staring, Steve cleared his throat as he pulled the canister of sugar down, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Focus, remember?” he taunted, cocking an eyebrow at you, and you stuck your tongue out in return.

“Oh, I’m focused alright,” you assured him, putting the room temperature butter into the mixing bowl and measuring the vanilla extract. “You just look really good in that apron,” you teased.

“I’m starting to question your taste a little, hun,” Steve chuckled, measuring the powdered sugar to run through the sifter.

“Well, I am undeniably attracted to you, so what does that say?” you said with a shrug, watching the smile on his face out of the corner of your eye.

The Christmas music your parents had left on in the other room drifted to the kitchen as you worked, adding the milk slowly while Steve sifted the sugar. Once he was finished shaking the last bit into the bowl, you turned on the mixer, letting out a gasp as powdered sugar flew everywhere, dusting you and the counter, while a white cloud hung in the air, drifting lazily downward like the snow outside.

Too stunned for a moment, all you could do was blink while your mouth hung open. Steve’s laughter washed over you and you turned to gape at him, grabbing a handful of sugar to toss at him in retaliation.

“What was that for?” he spluttered, his turn to gape at you and your turn to laugh.

“That was for laughing at me!” you exclaimed, still giggling at the fine white powder that coated his face and hair.

Scrunching his nose up, Steve dipped his fingers into the wet frosting at the bottom of the mixing bowl to smear across your nose, earning an incredulous gasp.

“Steve Harrington!” you cried, giving him a taste of his own medicine, or trying to–your boyfriend catching your wrist before you could reach his face, his lips wrapping around your finger, sucking it clean, leaving you flush faced and gaping for a different reason.

Pulling your finger from his mouth with a soft pop, he arched an eyebrow at you, a smug grin tugging at his lips and before you realized what you were doing, your mouth was on his, kissing him hotly as you backed him against the counter.

“Thought we had to finish this first,” Steve teased, grinning against your lips, though his grasp on your waist said he wasn’t letting you go.

“We can finish that after,” you breathed, the heated ache between your legs now too intense to ignore.

Steve chuckled, swapping places with you and lifting you easily to the counter before stepping between your legs.

“You taste so sweet,” he mused, his hands slipping under the hem of your skirt and up your thighs, his palms warm against your skin.

“That’s probably the sugar,” you giggled, helping him work your panties down, watching as he tucked them into his back pocket.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, his brown eyes flicking up to yours as he licked his lips. “Bet there’s something else that tastes even sweeter,” he drawled, a playful smirk tugging at his lips that sent a shiver through you.

Without waiting, he pulled your hips right to the edge of the counter before parting your thighs and kneeling, holding your gaze until he dove under your skirt.

“Steve!” you yelped with a laugh, pulling your skirt up so you could see him.

“Yes?” he asked expectantly, pausing to kiss your inner thigh, his eyes once more flicking up to yours.

“You may continue,” you chuckled fondly, running your fingers through his thick hair. “I just wanted something to hold onto,” you purred, giving his roots a gentle tug.

“That’s what it’s there for,” Steve teased, bobbing his eyebrows at you before eagerly kissing his way higher, til his breath ghosted over your aching sex. When his tongue delved between your folds, his nose nudging your clit, you didn’t bother to stifle the moan that spilled forth and your head fell back against the cupboard behind you with a soft ‘thunk’.

“Shit, you okay?” Steve asked, pausing to check on you and you nodded hastily.

“I’m fine, please don’t stop!”

Steve chuckled, obeying with a soft groan as he spread your folds to lap a broad stroke all the way up to your sensitive bud, circling it deftly with his tongue as he urged you to hook your knees over his shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you whined, rocking against his mouth as much as you could while held in his grasp, desperate for more.

He moaned into your cunt, his eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks as he focused on your pleasure, his fingers digging into your hips where he held you, seeming to enjoy it almost as much as you were.

Knowing your parents could return at any moment to find you like this, squirming under your boyfriend’s tongue atop their countertop only made the whole thing even hotter.

Steve’s lips wrapped around the hood of your clit to gently suck, his tongue unrelenting against your bundle of nerves and you clenched around nothing, wishing he’d fill you with his fingers at least.

“F-fuck, oh please!” you managed to whimper, barely conscious of the mess you were making, your juices mixing with Steve’s saliva, rolling down your folds and dampening the back of your skirt. He hummed in response, but didn’t slow and you knew you were getting close, your release hovering just out of reach.

“M’close,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in Steve’s hair, nails biting into his scalp as you held him against your cunt, desperate to cum against his tongue.

“Please, Steve–” you begged, your head once more falling back and he granted your wish, his tongue lashing against you as he slid two fingers into you, curling to stroke that spot inside that made you see stars, and you fell apart with a desperate cry, your body going rigid as your mind went blank.

Steve lifted his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as you came down from your high.

“I was right, much sweeter,” Steve teased, a wide grin tugging at his lips as he peered at you from under his tousled mane of hair.

Unable to keep your own smile hidden, you brushed his hair from his forehead and leaned in to steal a kiss, moaning softly at the taste of you on his lips and tongue.

“And I think they should change the definition of ‘best boyfriend in the world’ to ‘Steve Harrington’,” you mused, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Glancing down, even beneath the apron covering him, his arousal was quite noticeable, and your grin deepened coyly.

“Eating me out made you this hard?” you asked, slipping your hand down the front of his jeans, feeling him through the thick denim and Steve’s breath hitched, his hips giving an involuntary jerk.

“What can I say? Seeing how good I make you feel does that to me,” he chuckled.

“You’re so good to me,” you sighed, wondering if you’d have enough time to help Steve get off before your parents got home. “Would you like some help?” you asked, biting your lip as you continued to caress him and Steve was about to open his mouth to gladly accept when the garage door motor kicked on and your heart leapt into your throat.

“Shit, they’re back!” you hissed, slipping off the counter. “We need to clean this up,” you exclaimed, springing into action to wet a washcloth and grab some dry towels, tossing one to Steve.

By the time your parents walked into the kitchen, laden with shopping bags, you were just cleaning up the last of the sugar, Steve standing on the other side of the island so no one would notice the bulge in his jeans.

“What happened in here?” your mom gasped, setting her shopping bags down to survey what was left of the damage.

“When we turned on the mixer, the sugar flew everywhere,” you explained with a laugh.

“I see that,” your dad mused, noticing the white powder in your hair and on your cheeks.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” your mom asked, nearly rounding the island to join you.

“Nope! We’ve got it!” you exclaimed quickly, noticing the flash of panic in Steve’s eyes.

“Alright,” your mom relented, holding her hands up in surrender. “We’re gunna go wrap the rest of these presents then, if you need us,” she said, grabbing the bags and heading for the stairs. “But no peeking!” she warned.

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” you assured her, waiting for them to disappear upstairs before letting out a heavy sigh. “That was close.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve groaned, throwing you a flat look.

Flashing him an apologetic grin, you ambled toward him, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“It was your idea in the first place, remember?” you cooed, arching a wry brow at him, earning you that unamused head tilt while his hands planted on his hips.

“Yeah well, I, for one, would like some help now,” he said pointedly and you couldn’t help but laugh, teasingly feeling him up again, earning you a breathless moan.

“I think I could do that,” you purred, taking his hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom. “But you’ll have to be quiet.”

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