#only drabbles here and there yknow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xsleepinggoodx · 18 days

Text

Mikey x reader short drabble!

timeskip: 19 year old Mikey. Yknow that one Mikey before manila? The one with the short blond hair? That one!🥰

Slight NSFW warning!

………………………………………………………………………………

You and Mikey were in the most heated make out sessions you ever been in. In his garage room, in his bed, on his lap, and door locked. The tension was real. His shirt was off and his veiny arms were around your waist, squeezing every so often. Your hand cupping his cheeks as you both fought for dominance—he wins every time though.

You letting out whimpers every so often as unravels you. Your hips grinding from time to time. You guys done it before, but not really often. You’re busy with college as he is he. He spends time hanging out with Toman, you’re there too ofc, but every so often, you two share intimate stares. He’s drilling his eyes on you when you’re laughing with Baji or Mitsuya. You’re admiring him as he tells a funny story. Again, the tension is there but you guys simply didn’t have alone time together, especially not sexually.

Now you guys finally were able to hang out, alone. Telling him stories from your college as he listens, replying with similar stories, him telling you crazy moments from his fights with Toman. Playing games with him, reading together. But it just got so heated, his loving gaze on you as you read the book and when you finally looked at him back, he pounced.

That’s how it led you guys here, tongues wrapping around each other as saliva drips down your lips. When you final let go for air, panting heavily with your lovesick eyes, he smiles lovingly as he catches his own breath.

“You said you had a bad day?” You asked, tracing his collarbone.

“I already told you about it, I really don’t wanna think about it.” He pouts, already rolling his eyes.

He told you about how annoying this one gang was, the leader trashed his bike terribly. Now it was in Draken’s motor shop in repair, he couldn’t ride it for a week.

“How bout I help you relieve some stress?” You asked innocently. “You always help me…I wanna make you feel good..” you said, your eyes resting. He

He looked confused but then it finally clicked.

“Baby, you don’t have to-“ he started before he got interrupted.

“But I want to, I wanna make you feel good..please~?” You stared at him, with your begging eyes. Oh your eyes, only if you knew how much he adored and admired you.

He nodded slowly. “Please baby, I need you.”

You giggled as you got on top of him, your hips sitting on his. His head looking up at you as you captured his lips again, before trailing your soft lips down his chin, neck, finally his chest. You sat up and clutched the hem of your shirt.

“Do you want me to take it off?” You said, teasingly.

“You really don’t have to.” He said hesitantly.

“Mikey~~” you teased as you giggled.

“Yes please” he begged shamefully. You knew Mikey was good with his words, getting him to beg was always tough, but you knew how to melt him. That’s why he loved you so much, you always challenged him. Which is not something he received often. You smiled as you chucked taking your shirt off, revealing your baby pink bra. The bra stap perfectly falling off your left shoulder.

You smiled as he admired your face, then his eyes traveled down, admiring your goddess-like body. He always knew he hit the jackpot, but now it’s official. He couldn’t help himself as he rose up and kissed you, trailing down your chin, then to your neck. Leaving hickies behind. You let out a soft hum as he continues, nipping your sweet spot, his hands where they were once on your waist were now softly cupping your breast.

He grinds his hips on yours, earning whimpers from you.

“Fuck, I love you so much, baby” he said, his voice muffled from his attacks on your cleavage. You softly scratched your fingers through his messy golden hair. Rewarding yourself with his kisses.

“I l-love you too~” you said. Love honeyed your voice. You were definitely down bad for him. The best part is that so was he….

…………………………………………………………………………….

Enjoy everyone, sorry I didn’t go all the way. I’m not confident in my NSFW writing skills🫣

#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers mikey #manjiro sano #Mikey x reader best ship

372 notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 8 months

Note

Hey!!! I just finished reading song of Achilles and I have been crying for the better part of the last hour while reading, hence in serious need of some Bucky comfort. So how about college or lumberjack Bucky (cuz they’re my favorites) who don’t really understand the whole fuzz over books but still holding his girl while she sobs her chest out out about a book (you can change the book of you want), hot tears down her face, ugly crying yknow?

It’s okay if you don’t want to :)) Have a great day 💕💕💕

Pairing: lumberjack!bucky x reader (can be read separately from undisclosed, but also a little reference to it)

A/n: Okay sooo this was so sweet and I had to write a drabble for it!! All this angst I've been writing needs some comfort! :)

~~~

He hears the crying first.

It’s a terrible sound that constricts his chest each time it meets his ears. Bucky would like to consider himself partially responsible for your tears becoming a rare occurrence, so when he hears them, he experiences an array of emotions—fear, panic, a twisted sort of heartbreak.

At the front door of his home, Bucky strains his ears to confirm what he’s already dreading. Because maybe you weren’t crying. Maybe you were sick? That wasn’t much better, but at least it was a more concrete issue.

When he hears the tissue box and the loud meow from Alpine—the closest thing to concern he’d ever heard from a cat—Bucky doesn’t even take his coat off before he’s barreling into your bedroom.

You startle, puffy eyes darting up to him as he takes up space in the small room.

And he’s devastated. You hadn’t looked like that in a long time, all tear-stained cheeks and frazzled hair. Bucky considers the multitude of reasons you could be so upset, but then decides it doesn't matter. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“Oh, honey,” he coos. His socks make soft sounds on the carpet as he walks over to you, but the action only sends more tears down your face. Bucky could collapse. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

You don’t say much at first, opting to bury your face into his chest the second he makes contact with the bed. It’s too warm in here for the amount of clothes he’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t really care. You keep crying—Bucky keeps running his fingers through your hair.

Each sob that leaves your lips sounds more broken than the last, breaking Bucky down bit by bit. He wants to fix this, make it better, but Bucky has never been good with words. He’d been trying, for you. He will try now.

“Tell me what happened, sweet girl?” he mumbles into the skin of your temple, lips hesitant to leave your skin. He was always better with physical communication. He was also the best at loving you like this.

Your breathing gets choppy as you try to calm down. Shallow puffs of air meet the stitching of his sweater, and he rocks you as a way to coax a more steady pattern into your lungs. Even though he was wrought with panic, you were okay. Bucky had you, so you were okay.

“He—he died, Buck,” you eventually choke out. “He died and then there was no—there was nothing—” your words cut off again as more tears soak his chest.

“Who?” he stresses, although his tone doesn’t give that away. “Who, honey? Someone you know?”

“No,” you sob. The sound knocks the air from Bucky’s lungs.

Taking inventory in his head, that means all of his friends are safe, all of your friends. It means your awful family is alive as well, and while that doesn't matter much to him, at least he knows it isn’t the source of your strife. But the pain in your voice, the way you were limp against him and fighting for air.

Bucky couldn’t understand.

“Tell me who. What has you so sad, hm?” he tries, voice dropping into an even gentler tone.

You dig your fingers into Bucky’s jacket, pulling away after a moment. Bucky reaches for you, trying to chase your figure because he wasn’t done trying to make this better, he needs to make you better. But then you slap something into his lap and he’s confused again.

“Them,” you all but sob, turning back into the material of his jacket.

Bucky wraps an arm around your shoulders as he inspects the book on his thighs. He’s still lost, but your crying has morphed into sniffles so he asks, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He’s packing it on with the endearments, but seeing you like this is brutal.

“In the book,” you explain. “They were so in love. And then he died. And afterwards—Bucky it was awful.”

Oh.

A book.

This is manageable, to Bucky. You’re not in pain and he can handle this.

He hauls you closer into his chest. You shuffle until your frame is enclosed by his. Bucky’s size had always been something he found inconvenient until you came into his life. Because after that, he found it was good at making you feel safe. A way to protect you from anything.

Even… a book?

Surely a book.

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you,” he hums.

“Never die,” you whisper, and Bucky's mouth twists uncomfortably.

“I won’t.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #lumberjack!bucky #undisclosed #asks

464 notes · View notes

mandarinmoons · 3 months

Note

I've had this idea for a while now and I've never seen anyone write it!! Could you write a little drabble about s2 reid where the reader helps him gel back/style his hair in the morning? Yknow the famous side part with the glasses 🤭

Omg I love this. Season 2 Spencer is my baby x

The kettle finished boiling and you poured the water into two cups of coffee, the scent of it filling your nose. Spencer was getting ready for work and it was a habit of yours to wake up alongside him and have your breakfast together.

As you finished up buttering the toast you heard Spencer shuffle into the kitchen and wrap his arms around you, “Baby, can you help me?”

“Sure, what’s-,” as you turned around you held back a laugh as you saw the situation with Spencer’s hair. It was spiking up in all sorts of places and as you ran your hand through it the locks had no intention of staying down.

“How do you sleep in such a way that it ends up in this state?” you chuckled and Spencer’s cheeks blushed lightly. Spencer had a habit of tossing and turning in his sleep and his hair paid the consequences.

“C’mon, let’s go get this beast under control.”

Spencer followed along and sat on the edge of the sink as you gently ran a brush through his hair. His face winced lightly as you tried to get through a knot but you made sure to be as gentle as possible. Once the hair was brushed you got out some gel and lightly spread it over the sections where it didn’t want to be tamed.

“Anddd, there, what do you think?”

Spencer looked behind his shoulder and his eyes went wide when he saw your work. His hair was nicely parted and the finished product was well suited for him.

“It looks great, thank you,” Spencer turned around and pulled you closer as he pecked your lips in thanks. You smiled and your hand reached to his nape as you traced your fingers through the hair that didn’t get coated in product.

“I think you look really handsome.”

“Do you? Oh wait,” Spencer reached to the side for his glasses and rested them on his nose, “now you’re not blurry anymore.”

You chuckled and leaned closer as you took a hold of his cheeks and kissed him more a few times, “And the glasses only add to that.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @indigosamsblog @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

220 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

HELLO!!! OMG I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH ❤️✨. I WAIT FOR YOU EVERYDAY TO POST 💖 YOUR WRITING IS LIKE THE BEST THING IN THIS WORLD 🙇 CAN I PLS REQUEST LOOKISM MEN WITH A HOUSEWIFE READER. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE YOUR WORK 😍🥰

Hey anon, thanks for reading my brainrot and your request! You are adorable and I am loving the energy in this ask.

Gone for hc, but lemme know if you want a lil fic/drabble. I started to write a snippet for Jake and Goo and then realised I wanted to write for more of the boys but it gets a bit repetitive, yknow?

Lookism Boys with Housewife S/O headcanons

Jake Kim

After what feels like a lifetime of instant ramen and worrying about Big Deal, it's nice to have some homecooked meals and know that at least one part of his life is running smoothly.

Will always try to split the chores and errands evenly with you, because it's Jake. And if you wave him away and say no it's fine, he will follow you around anyway because spending time with you? Yes please.

Goo Kim

If you want to be a housewife, knock yourself out, honeybun. If you want to just sit around on your ass all day and do nothing, that's fine too. Goo will hire cleaners. Whatever makes you happy.

Actually loves doing shared chores with you though, and canonically he loves to cook. You do the prepping, he does the actual chef work. A little because it's a fun roleplay for him, and a lot because he does appreciate time together where he can just ramble on to you.

Gun Park

Housewife is.. fine. He can provide more than enough for the both of you. Honestly doesn't have any feelings about it one way or the other.

From a practical and pragmatic sense, it's nice to have someone he trusts look after your home. And then if/when there are kids coming along then it's also a lot easier if you are a stay-at-home parent too.

Samuel Seo

You're not so much a housewife, as a kept wife. Samuel has the vibes that if he can afford to so, and he absolutely can, then you are not lifting a finger.

Yes, he loves you but more because it's a matter of pride that he can provide for you in all areas of your life. You keeping the household running smoothly? Fine. But doing dishes? He has the ridiculous notion that it's below you.

Eugene

Yeah, you're also not going to be a housewife with Eugene. You can be in a power couple with him, but there is zero expectation to be a traditional housewife. You guys employ people for that.

Enjoy your shopping and brunches and being on the board of charities or whatever with other socialites.

DG/James Lee

This guy has enemies and unhinged fans coming out of his butthole, so for your safety and his peace of mind, housewife is great. Leaves pretty much most of the errands to you as his fame prevents him doing even the most simple things (but yet no one catches him beating up minors).

Extremely private with his personal life and with you. You're the only bit of normalcy in his insane life (lives?) and appreciates the sanctuary and home you have both built. Seeing you do the laundry, dust, cook, whatever? It's a sigh of relief for his soul.

Zack Lee/Vasco Tabasco

The two of them are pretty similar here.

Are you kidding? Absoutely loves that you are a housewife, there's something about the fact that you are looking after their wellbeing that they adore.

Has very traditional ideas of gender roles, much to the chagrin of you at times, so them being the financial provider, and the household being your domain sounds great to them. Any issues with that? Don't worry, just let them know and they will bend over backwards to make sure you're happy.

Xiaolong

Takes a long time to get used this, and even then you being a housewife and looking after the household and family never quite feels right.

Don't blame Xiaolong though, he has had a lifetime of servitude. Always feels a little guilty about not looking after you in all areas of your life. He never quite fully breaks out of this mindset but is forever grateful for you and all that you do.

Vin Jin

What housewife? You're on the road touring with him when he's an international platinum-selling rapper.

Johan Seong

Well a positive of you being a housewife is that the further away from danger you are, the better.

However, being the sole financial provider does stress him out. He's had to scrape so goddamn hard for his mother's surgery, and the thought that the he has to do that forever? It does freak him out a little.

Much much prefers an equal partnership.

Eli Jang

Loves the stability of having you being a housewife for Yenna.

He trusts you with his life, and more importantly with Yenna. Eli knows she is in a safe pair of hands with you so that is a massive weight off his mind.

Overall it does a lot for healing the shitty childhood he had. Experiencing the loving home you have cultivated means more to him than you will ever know.

Warren Chae

He is the best househusband, and no one can convince me otherwise. Being able to have a calm life, with a loving partner and his biggest concern are looking after the home and family? After worrying about Hostel? Sign him the fuck up.

Warren will wave you off to work with a smile, the most delicious home-cooked lunch ever and a little note for you to read and perk up your day.

683 notes · View notes

k4katsujin · 11 months

Text

brain empty just thoughts full of miguel having a soft spot for you and hobie's relationship

like if you were in different dimensions hobie would beg for miguel to let him visit you.

and if you were in the same dimension he would beg miguel to send him on missions with you

wait now i want to make it a lil fic

kind of a drabble? idk

ok afterthought this is way longer than a drabble lmao mb

word count : 561 😭

it was a peaceful day at the spidersociety's headquarters. all the anomalies you and hobie have caught while patrolling were imprisoned in their cages, you did your daily patrolling chores and now boredom seemed to have gotten the best of you.

sometimes when you're bored, you wonder what your boyfriend was doing. well, factually speaking he was not quite your boyfriend, because of his "i hate labels" stuff, but it was most likely the two of you had something

sadly you spent most of your time wondering how he was going. you couldn't communicate because your communicator broke and miguel decided hobie had to give his to you.

you know what? fuck that hierarchy thing, just because some vampire spider man didn't want you to multi dimensional travel doesn't mean you wouldn't.

you then left your small apartment and headed to the headquarters.

"don't even think of it." firmly said miguel.

"what? i didn't even say anything yet-" you say.

"your backpack. it's the one you always bring with you when i send you in missions with hobie. considering the disaster it made when i left gwen visit miles last time, i am not letting this happen a second time." he said firmly.

"please." you try to beg. "it has been weeks since you last sent us on a mission together. plus it's soon our birthday and we celebrate all of them together. please? i promise you won't hear anything from me next."

"fine" he sighed, "but only for three days."

"four days? please?" you try to negotiate.

(i don't know how to describe it but imagine him pinching his nose yknow the thing he did In the movie)

"if i let you go, will you stop harassing me ?" he asked, visibly annoyed.

"pinky promise!" you exclaim, "thank you so much!"

he then opened a portal which led you to your boyfriend's dimension. you walked a bit to the bar where he probably was, as usual.

once you arrived, riri, one of hobie's best friend, warmly greeted you.

"glad to see you around!" she says with a warm smile. "if you're here to see hobie, he's in the back!."

you then headed to the room in the back of the building. you did find him practicing with his band. taking care to not disturb them, you sat on a small table in the back of the room.

you couldn't help but admire him. despite everything he went through, he always kept going.

"hobes", said a member of the group."i think someone's waiting for you."

as soon as he noticed your face, you could see his instantly lit up.

once his practice went all smooth, the two of you headed outside. a fresh breeze greeted you as the two of you tried to catch up on the lost time.

"i can't believe miguel let you come there" he says in disbelief. "i ain't complaining though, i missed my sunshine a whole bunch" he continues before kissing you.

"i missed you too, hobie," you murmur with a soft smile.

the two of you kept wandering in the streets, talking about random things.

"you down for cuddles, sunshine?" he asked as you came back home.

the two of you sat on the floor, your head on his chest, feeling his soft heartbeat.

eventually you both drifted to sleep, his hand playing with your hair.

yoooo 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 call me the ceo of ooc hobie atp x)

uhhh yea sorry the end is a bit rushed but 😭😭 also im in an agsty mood so i'll write smth when reader finds out hobie is cheating on them when they come to his dimension 😈😈

ALSO if you want some sleepy hobie hcs you can find them here ! :D

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #queer writers #writers on tumblr #kaheri's chronicles

318 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 10 months

Note

What about a little Drabble with a reader that can sing? Nothing professional, just had a little training growing up and only does it for fun. Maybe hobie finds her singing and listens for a bit but as soon as he’s discovered she gets kinda embarrassed about it and stops. Or he’s playing music and she just starts singing along cause singing to a song is easier than by yourself, yknow? One of those two, whichever sounds more fun to you :D

Hi angel! Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️ there was supposed to be a snippet of lyrics here but I remembered copyright law lol.

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

No specific physical description of the reader.

No warnings just FLUFF 🥰

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Grabbing your walkman from the table then clipping it to your sweatpants, you slap the headphones over your ears, while arming yourself with the colorful feather duster–you press play.

The familiar guitar riffs booms loudly through your headphones, you really shouldn't listen to music this loudly; But to hell with it, you need the background music so you could focus on cleaning the flat.

Tapping your socked feet rhythmically on the wooden floor, you shake your hips slightly to the music, harmonizing with the singer, you're home alone, the usual bashfulness when you're singing is nonexistent.

Starting with the surface of the counter, you walk towards it with a pep in your step. You dust the wooden top in rhythm with the drum beats.

You mumble through the beginning of the song, waiting for the chorus, which is your favourite part because of its iconic lyrics.

You sing without a care in the world, while you use the feather duster as your mic. Continuing on dusting away when you don't remember the next lyrics.

Unbeknownst to you, Hobie stops himself mid-greeting once he sees you dance and sing along to the faint music coming from your mustard yellow headphones.

He chuckled to himself when he recognizes the lyrics you're belting out.

You hang around him too much, before you started dating this kind of music wouldn't be your cup of tea. But now? You're the one who's dragging him to every concert.

He watches you from your windowsill, one leg up on the metal hinges, nonchalantly perched on it. Hobie wishes he has a camera on him to record your little concert. Mentally memorizing the scene in front of him would do for now at least.

You try to match the cadence of the singer as you turn around, clutching the duster like a mic.

You screech when you see Hobie's familiar figure, dropping the rainbow duster "Hobie! How long have you been there?!"

Hobie opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Forgetting about your headphones still blaring music, still in shock with embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Hobie stands up, motioning for you to take off the headphones.

You take it off your ears leaving it hanging over your neck, still hearing the muffled music through it, you definitely shouldn't have been listening to it this loud, or you would've heard Hobie coming in, saving yourself from embarrassment.

"Been here since the beginning" He smirks at you teasingly.

You cringe, face palming yourself "oh god!"

Hearing Hobie's footsteps you sneak a peek through your fingers. Instead of closing the gap, he shoots a practiced web on your waist. Pulling you towards him in one swift movement, you twirl around, feet sliding effortlessly until you're in his embrace.

You squeak out, grasping his strong arms to stabilize yourself, Hobie has the same idea, he holds the small of your back, lifting the hem of your shirt slighy, his thumb grazing the exposed skin.

"Got you" He gives you his signature smirk, turning your legs into jelly, good thing he's holding onto you.

You're amazed by how he can just take your breath away with minimal effort.

You hide your face in his leather vest, groaning in embarrassment.

"Didn't know there's a concert at your place, where's my ticket, hm?" He eggs you on, playfully shaking your form.

"Stooop" your muffled voice reverberates through the spandex of his suit. Hobie finds you adorable, he likes your singing voice, he'll tell you that later, but Hobie likes teasing you too much.

"Alright, alright I'll stop," Hobie says in between laughs.

You poke your head out from his vest, looking at him through your lashes with a pout.

"When I'm done" he finishes his sentence, grinning. "I didn't know they had a new band member, you got a double life too? Like Hannah Montana?"

"Augh, you're a menace!" You hide your face in his vest again, popping your head out quickly, you look at him suspiciously "wait, you know Hannah Montana?"

"Who?" Hobie feigns ignorance. He leans towards your face, cupping your chin, leading you in.

"You–" before you could get a sentence out, Hobie crashes his lips to yours, silencing any quips.

You can both still hear the music playing through your headphones, the singer chants out the last lyric of how much they can't keep their hands to themselves.

Hobie finds the lyrics appropriate as he kisses you deeply.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thanks for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #atsv x reader #fanfic #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you

234 notes · View notes

xstarkillerx · 1 year

Text

XStarkillerx Star Wars Masterlist

Anakin

Unofficial Anakin audio 0.1. (NSFW) xxx

Anakin, your ex-friend-with-benefits leaves you a jealous voicemail

Accompanying lore x x

Anakin Audio 1. (NSFW) xxx

A short, sweet, snippet. No plot, just moaning

Anakin audio 2. (NSFW) xxx

"let me get harder inside you."

You and Anakin have to keep your voices down so you down wake anyone and get caught. Very sweet, very eager, mostly moaning and whispering.

Anakin Audio 3. (NSFW) xxx

"I could never punish you like I do the others... you always think that my love, will always outweigh my anger."

You are captured after trying to escape the Alzamec of Winsit, the sith cult on Mustafar that Worships Lord Darth Vader. Vader makes sure you know how much it hurts him to punish you.

Anakin Audio 4. XXX

"I know my wires are crossed, I'm too old to change now, it's never gonna go away, that one... darling, my lovely, my love... let me bite... let me scar you."

A deeply honest, emotionally vulnerable, and sensual monologue about Anakin’s visceral desire to sink his teeth into you.

-------------

Anakin Drabble 1. (NSFW) How chosen ones masturbate

Anakin Drabble 2. (NSFW) Cruel and Unusual Punishment with a cigarette

Anakin Drabble 3. (NSFW) Anakin the Somnopheliac

Anakin Drabble 4. (NSFW) How to Dom him when you're shorter than him

Anakin Drabble 5. (NSFW) Anakin and Sparring as Foreplay

Anakin Drabble 6. Anakin and his arrogance regarding Saber Forms (comapnion piece to Drabble 5.)

Anakin Drabble 7. (NSFW) Anakin and a Muzzle

Anakin Drabble 8. Vader the Leech

Anakin Drabble 9. (NSFW) Street Racer Anakin

Anakin Drabble 10. The Oral Tradition

Anakin Drabble 11. (NSFW) Play Limp

Play Limp follow up

Anankin Drabble 12. (NSFW) Anakin enables your porn addiction (based on @anakincentric 's version of him)

Anakin Drabble 13. (NSFW) Being Anakin's second choice

Anakin Drabble 14. (NSFW)

Anakin only fucks you after you've fucked yourself raw

Anakin Drabble 15.

DILF Anakin doesn't exist and here's why

Anakin Drabble 16. (NSFW)

Ani sucks your pretty girl dick under your skirt.

Starkiller (Galen Marek)

Starkiller Drabble 1. (NSFW)

Starkiller rant (I want to fuck the bald virgin 👍)

Starkiller Drabble 2.

The parallels between Ahsoka and Starkiller: a semi-coherent essay

Starkiller Drabble 3.

Starkiller and Ahsoka: reason why they reverse grip (a lesson in saber theory)

Starkiller Drabble 4. (NSFW)

Sometimes he thinks about destroying you...

Starkiller Drabble 5. (NSFW)

Starkiller and biting you

Starkiller Drabble 6. (NSFW)

Starkiller and getting bitten

Starkiller Drabble 7. (NSFW)

Starkiller and how he Processes Pain (NSFW) (companion piece to drabble 6.)

Starkiller Drabble 8. (NSFW)

“i feel like the first time he manages to finger someone to orgasm he just wants to do it again immediately yknow?”

Ahsoka Tano

Ahsoka Drabble 1.

The parallels between Ahsoka and Starkiller: a semi-coherent essay

Ahsoka Drabble 2.

Starkiller and Ahsoka: reason why they reverse grip (a lesson in saber theory)

Luke Skywalker

Luke Audio 1. (NSFW) xxx

Luke getting completely and utterly wrecked with overstimulation.

Maul Opress

Maul Opress Drabble 1.

Maul in the Jedi Temple

Obi-wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan Audio 1. (NSFW) XXX

"I know my wires are crossed, I'm too old to change now, it's never gonna go away, that one... darling, my lovely, my love... let me bite... let me scar you."

A deeply honest, emotionally vulnerable, and sensual monologue about Obi-Wan's visceral desire to sink his teeth into you.

#Star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #maul opress

523 notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 4 months

Note

MX NANANANANNAANAAAAAA!! Hey I hope ur doing well <3 I’ve been following u for a while but I was wondering when did u actually start writing for this blog and what was the first story u posted? I’m pretty sure the first one of ur works I read was either perv geto or the aphrodisiac chocolate with gojo! lol I’ve been hooked ever since. Also also! Is there anything ur really itching to write and just haven’t gotten around to it yet? I love ur big brain so so much I hope u have a great day and ur taking care of yourself!! Mwah!

i could be wrong… i think it started as like a 100 word drabble abt nanami and it got a lot of interaction so it made me wanna write full fics and here we are :) // I LAUV UU THANK U MUAH <3

—

about fics i wanna writeeee, here’s a couple sneaky peakies of ideas ive been itching to write……

- heian era sukuna x reader n she comes from a very well known sourcerer clan, sukuna learns of her and sees her beauty, wants to yknow… get to know her a little cos he’s curious. i also wanna add something abt readers dad hearing about sukunas infactuation abt u somehow and is very resistant to you going but that only fuels your curiosity so you sneak out and meet him aaaaand :3

- another is reader being some kinda curse enigma like sukuna and they are ‘friends with him’, they take a liking to uraume and do anything they can to get them to like them back, eventually ending with uraume getting absolutely fucked out of their mind by reader of course

- yuki comforting you once you get out of a breakup by dicking you down with her strap when she finds out he never made you cum tehe

#the uraume one….#it’s my go to sleep scenario #jjk smut

76 notes · View notes

hirsheyskisses · 2 years

Note

Can I request for Vox Akuma with Reader accidentally said how handsome he is?

❝Is it hot in here, or is it just you?❞

┆Vox Akuma x GN!Reader

┆┆Fluff (mentions of drinking.)

You and Vox had been friends for a long time. Pretty much since you'd joined up with Nijisanji. Somehow managing to get into a twitter spat over Pilk with none other than the voice demon, Vox Akuma.

Which is how your friendship began to blossom into something more.

His unseiso nature actually mixed pretty well with your own; you finely walking the line between seiso and unseiso. You could be so wholesome most of the time, yet in some cases, mostly seen with Vox, Mysta, or Luca; you would whip out the dirtiest comebacks imaginable. And to say Vox had been taken by surprise the first time you had was an understatement.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice how handsome Vox was; his piercing golden eyes, toned body, soft hair, cute smile, oh- you could go on and on about it. But never once did you tell him. After all, that'd damage your image of being one of the one's Vox could never get!

But, unfortunately for you, you were a pretty talkative drinker. This being your first drinking stream and all..

"Voxxxxxxyyyyyy~" You sang. Vox had just joined your call. when you were so deep..

"Well hello there, (Name)." Vox chuckled, watching your model so cutely sway back and fourth on the screen. "You're so handsome, yknow thattt? So pretty n .. oh. Ohh shit i wasn't- aHHHHHHHH."

Your voice broke off into a half scream, half choking on the water you were about to drink. Your drunken mind only realizing a second too late you shouldn't have said that. "i take it BACK-"

"Ohhh?~ Does little (Name) think I'm handsome?" "i do nOT-" Vox cut you off. He had obviously leaned closer to his mic, voice deepening purposefully.

"If you ask me, (Name).. i think you're quite sexy yourself."

Your face flushed, mouth gaping, visible on the screen. Chat was going wild, but you didn't waste time reading it; instead, you could just stare stupidly at your monitor for a moment before..

"Is it hot in here, or is it just you, Voxxy-"

HELP i realize my fics are getting a little short but yknow what, i like writing drabbles rn--

960 notes · View notes

theloveinc · 6 months

Note

tw: prostitution probs

OMG I know your shinsou drabble about him faking being your pimp for an undercover mission was like a little long ago, but it changed my atoms molecular structure

Like maybe you both are discussing what you've discovered that night on the couch you're sharing with the criminal and you hear somebody coming and than you gotta act like you're having... YKNOW??? 😫

Like maybe you noticed it first so then you like throw yourself on top of shinsou, fake moaning that sounds real, bouncing a little on top of him so the couch creeks a little to really sell it and it takes a little for shinsou to catch on but he's a mess because you sound real 😣😣😣

And from the criminal's POV, it's dark so he can't see your clothes that are on and is like well don't like me interrupt you before he heads back to whatever he came from 🤭

(link to ref. post here!)

SFAJKSDHJKAFDSHK it only takes him about five seconds to get the gist of the scene but... those five seconds change his entire perspective on the both of you, don't you think??

Because I think for the first few moments when he thinks it's real... he forms an entire confession in his head that's ready to spill from his lips just as fast, going hot where your hands splay on his chest, his cock jumping in his jeans when he tries to say your name. Even the hands he immediately puts on your hips to help guide you are genuine, not just to make the whole thing look... less pretend.

But then your eyes are shooting back down to his face and they're not filled with love or lust, they're filled with panic in waiting for him to play along....... and the whole moment he was able to build up comes crashing down, forcing him to realize exactly how he feels about you and....... how doomed your situation is, if you're gonna have to physically, now, keep up the charade rather than just label it.

(Especially because he's supposed to be the one in charge, the pimp, and it kinda makes him want to vomit thinking about treating you like something he owns, and yet he still has to pull himself together enough so that the criminal doesn't get suspicious if he actually acts like he loves you..............)

Then they're gone and you're all relieved (still sitting on his crotch) and now he has an entirely NEW problem that has to be faced (gasp, his feelings!!), and that's aside from the chub he's praying to god you can't feel.

Good. Grief.

#shinso #NO BC ME TOO AND I'VE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABT HIM MORE LIKE WHAT DO U EVEN DO !! ABT HIM!!!#ANON HOW COULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEE #I NEED IT SO BADLY I NEED IT LIKE WATER AND AIR #sorry if it's a lil short my roommate cut me off halfway so i lost my flow #but please i'd love to talk abt shinso more!!#im just thinking abt him on the couch all red-cheeked with an arm over his face to hide his embarrassment from you #and you're so sweet just trying to make sure he's okay... not even realizing that you made things WORSE #when u were just doing ur job #like genuinely u think he was spooked not that he has to face the fact he loves u now #it's... ASDHLFKASJDFKAJSHDN #I NEED IT I LOVE U ANON BYE #CAITIE THINGS #GEN #anon

59 notes · View notes

astroels · 1 year

Text

E.williams drabble

Ellie copes with Joel's death and her guilt by drinking her nights away and reader comforts her.

a/n: saw a video that brought attention to Ellie's collection of alcohol bottles with a photo of Joel on the tabletop with empty cups and it inspired this

0.8k words

alcoholism, apocalyptic au,

Your shared bed with Ellie grew cold with her absence. Groggily waking up, you realized she was gone again in the dead of night. Ever since you came back from Seattle, it was like this. You spent the days as if nothing happened, but once nights hit, you knew Ellie was off trying to soothe her guilt. Her habit had grown frequent, never having consecutive nights of being present in bed.

You laid in bed, still partially unconscious, but soon rose to look for Ellie. You called her name softly as you made your way downstairs. No answer came back to your voice. She must have been deep into her drinking process. You couldn't help but feel guilty about not waking up earlier. You really tried every night, but she fought you sometimes, you knew she didn't mean to, but it was reaching a point that would break both of you.

You saw the back of Ellie's head; She was seated near the familiar dresser that held the achohol, her body fluid against the chair as she looked out the window. You walked up to her silently, not knowing how she'd take your presence again. When you got closer, you decided to put your hand on her shoulder to alert her. She kept looking out the window for a few seconds, then turned to you and met your eyes They were red and puffy, almost like they wanted to sleep but fought, like she'd been crying all night.

"Ellie..." You said softly. You spoke again after a moment. "Let's get back to bed, yeah?" Ellie moved her head limply to face the window again. " 'm fine here." Her words were slurred but you understood what she said. "it's pretty late 'yknow." You moved in front of her, bending down in front of her legs so she wouldn't have to look up at you. "and?" Ellie said nonchalantly, grabbing to pour even more alcohol in her previously empty cup. She hiccuped before raising the glass to her lips. You stared at her in uncertainty, should you grab the cup and be stern or try and talk her out of it on your own?

"Hey... you really need to stop doing this Els." You gently laid your hand over hers that held the cup. Her grip tightened before she let go defeated. You placed the cup back to the tabletop. "Doin' what?" She grunted almost angrily. "Drinking your nights away, it won't help Ellie," You said in the softest voice you could to not stir her. She scoffed at your words. "haven't done that, 's not what I do." Her words came out quiet as if she was talking to herself. You unconsciously gave her a pity look, just wanting her to break her wall and share how she felt already.

You didn't want to argue with her, but this issue was only getting progressively worse. You took her hands in yours, getting her attention. "You've traded so much of our stuff for this crap," you looked at the alcohol, "It'd be better if we helped you in a healthier way than this." Ellie laughed. "Haven't done a thing, I don't need help." She rolled her eyes as she continued. "Everyone drinks, 's normal." She mumbled to get it out but got her point through.

"Not like this, Ellie. Please let me help you." Ellies laughter died down, a sudden tenseness filling her body. She hesitated to speak, but it came pouring out. "his face, screams, stuck in m'head." She gave a half smile as if too make it less awkward, but slowly turned into chokes and nose sniffling as she continued. "Can't do it 'nmore." Her back fell limp and no longer supported her, leaving her bending forward with her hands holding her face. She shook with each sob that got lead out. "I failed hm." You stood up and brought her into a hug, standing her up. Her head laid into your shoulder as she cried. "I miss him." The way she cried made your heart swell up too. "I know, baby, it's gonna be okay." You soothed her back and hair. She cried in your arms for a good while.

Once her sobs became sniffles, you decided it was a decent time to speak. "There's water waiting in the room, we should sleep, okay?" You brought her face to look at you. She looked at you with a saddened face, a tired one. You brought your hand up to her forehead to brush her slight bangs behind her ear. Ellie melted into the touch with closed eyes and nodded.

Once the both of you were under the sheets, you hugged her from behind. You gave her your warmth and love. You touched her tenderly as if you could take her pain away. You kissed her back goodnight. "I love you, baby, I'll take care of you." You softly spoke. Ellie was sound asleep, her slight snores filling the silence of the bedroom. She was all you had; You were all she had. Things like this were meant to be worked through no longer how long the cycle repeated. The love you shared was enough to get through more nights and less drinking.

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #tlou 2 #ellie x reader #elliesstar #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x female reader

189 notes · View notes

goldenempyrean · 1 year

Note

hii!! since you were looking for some drabbles heres an idea!! R taking care of a sick natasha using the prompts "I thought you said that you were feeling better?" and "I sneezed twice, is that a crime?"

Lemon Tea

〚 Notes - I still have a few drabbles to do yet! This is short but sweet - get it? - lemons are sweet? Yknow whatever. Let's ignore that. Enjoy ;) 〛

〚 Pairing- Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Nat says she's feeling better but you're not so sure. 〛

〚 Wordcount - > 500 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Natasha?” You gave the redhead a questioning look from the table when she began pouring the freshly boiled kettle into a cup along with a lemon teabag which had caught your attention immediately.

“What?” She paused, looking over her shoulder to be met with you folding your arms as you looked her over.

“I thought you said you were feeling better?” You questioned, continuing to study her whilst she finished making her drink.

She sipped it slowly, holding the cup with both hands, “What do you mean? I do feel better.” She insisted, but the way the corner of her lip smirked was eagerly giving away her bluff.

“You only drink tea when you don’t feel well.” You pressed her further, shaking your head a little as you came over to press the back of your palm to her cheek.

It was lucky you did because it meant you were quickly able to grab the steaming cup of tea from her when her nose suddenly itched.

“Hh’iishoo! hHeh’ktshhiiew!”

“Bless you.” You sighed a little, wanting nothing more to wrap her up in a cosy blanket and cart her back off to bed but you knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, “Do you see what I mean now?”

“I sneezed twice is that a crime?” Nat groaned, rubbing at her running with the corner of her sleeve.

“No. But you sneezed loudly. Something you only do when you really don’t feel good. Meaning…” You trailed off, eyes staring at her in hopes she’d finish your sentence.

“Fine, maybe I still feel a little si- Hh’tshiuew! - sick, but it’s fine.” Nat argued weakly, sniffling as she tried to get her nose back under control.

“Nope.” You smirked in subtle triumph, popping the ‘p’ at the end of your word, “we’re going to go get cosy back under the duvet in our room and you are going to rest. No arguing. I want you to actually feel better.”

Nat dropped her shoulders in defeat, sheepishly reaching out to take her tea back whilst your arm fell comfortably round her waist, “Okay…”

“Good! Now let’s go get you feeling better, yeah?"

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ceiestiaie @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff soft #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #sick!natasha romanoff x reader #sickfic #fluff #marvel #mcu #avengers #nastasha romanoff sickfic #nastasha romanoff x fem!reader #sick!natasha romanoff

197 notes · View notes

mochees · 24 days

Text

— two tortured souls

dazai osamu x chuuya nakahara | wc: 3k | crossposted to ao3

TAGS: drabble, angst, depression, post-corruption ability use, soft/comfort, generally low mental health mentions, chuuya has a BATH, use of petnames for teasing.

A/N: hihi!!! long time no write!!! remember when i dropped the most depraved, disgusting, self indulgent eremin fic ever and then dropped off the face of the earth with empty promises? me neither, moving on! anyway. been wanting to get back into writing lately but yknow..... the undergrad life........ but i find myself with too much time now that the semester is over so have a drabble thing i wrote a year ago and then just never posted lmfao. it was supposed to be longer but i just couldn't get the ending right so i left it kind of open i guess? anyway skk is real to me

Willingly sacrificing your autonomy is so much more than physically exhausting. Corruption leaves Chuuya feeling truly empty and insignificant. It makes him feel as though he really is just a vessel for something else. An empty, fleshy shell that doesn’t even belong to him. Unlike the physical exhaustion, however, the feeling lingers. It hangs around like a morning fog, obscuring everything as far as he can see. It’s disorienting and restrictive. Most of all, it’s loud. The voices that dwell in the fog are so loud, much louder than anything Chuuya has ever heard, and they echo. They echo, bouncing off of each other and amplifying every emotion, every word, every moment of despair.

Chuuya can’t remember how many days have passed since he used corruption. At least two, maybe even three. The fog is so thick that days eventually just blur together, and time turns into molasses. Resigning himself to a night or two in darkness, he tucks his knees against his chest and covers his ears with his arms, attempting to block out as much of the noise as possible.

But you can’t silence your own guilt.

It was pitch black in the house by the time Dazai arrived, which was unusual, but he figured that Chuuya was either tucked in and fast asleep already or strewn across some surface with a movie.

“Chuuya ~,” he sang. “I’m back ~!” Concern grew on Dazai’s face when the routine groan of usually completely false annoyance didn’t sound. He counted all the hats in the closet as he tucked his own clothing away and muttered to no one in particular, “he’s definitely here…”

The detective took a few steps before he sounded again, “Chuuya? Where are you?” The absence of an answer worried him further. No matter how tired, angry, or drunk Chuuya was, he always made a point of greeting his partner as unenthusiastically as he could.

Dazai made his way through the house, checking a few rooms before he found Chuuya. Scrunched up in the far corner of the bedroom, his faint form was desperately trying to be swallowed by darkness. Even for someone who consistently allowed themselves to actually be swallowed by the darkness, seeing Chuuya in such distress and anguish was deeply unsettling for Dazai. Chuuya always surrounded himself with people, and for him to look so alone–

Dazai shook off his thoughts and made his way over to the man, crouching low a few feet away.

“…uuya? Chuuya?” When he didn’t respond, Dazai raised his volume a fraction.

“Are you alright?” Chuuya jumped a little, unaware that someone had crossed into his world of anguish.

Dazai chuckled. He couldn’t help but find it a little humourous; it’s not often he was able to get the jump on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Dazai?” Chuuya’s voice was hoarse and distant, and Dazai immediately steeled himself.

“Are you– what happened?”

The executive didn’t answer. He just stared—not through Dazai or at anything; he just looked ahead with no purpose. Chuuya could hear something but could not decipher the sounds for the life of him. He only realized they were words when he noticed Dazai’s mouth moving.

There was nothing about Chuuya's demeanour that told Dazai he was conscious. But he also wasn't unconscious. God knows Dazai is all too familiar with Chuuya's unconscious mind, and this wasn't it. There was no light in his eyes, but they weren't lifeless. It was as if Chuuya had trapped himself in his own body, caught between two states of being. He didn't know if Chuuya could even process what he was saying in this state, but he also didn't want to stop. Perhaps Dazai believed in a silly idea that the sound waves might reach him, that they would guide him through whatever limbo he was in.

Once he finished, Dazai rose from his place on the floor and made his way to the bedroom door. Chuuya could see him leaving, but he couldn’t hear his footsteps. All he could focus on was the voices getting louder again, and the second that Dazai was out that door they started to echo again. Unwilling to fight them, Chuuya lowered his head back down and let the pressure build in his chest and ache his muscles.

Physically, the pain was no different from a hard day's work, but emotionally, it was excruciating. Every breath was hell. Each inhale wound a cord up tightly, but breathing out did nothing to release it. All of the fibres in Chuuya's body felt like they would snap and finally grant him a moment's release, maybe even exhaust him enough to sleep, but they didn't. Instead, they grew tighter and tighter, digging into every strand until it inevitably cut him into a million little pieces.

When Dazai returned, he was greeted with a sight more devastating than before. Tension was emanating from Chuuya like heat from a grill, and he looked positively hopeless.

“Chuuya,” Dazai’s voice was uncharacteristically soft—unfitting, really—but he hoped it might help Chuuya focus. “Will you come with me?” He waited a few moments, giving the redhead extra time to process.

To Chuuya, the sounds outside his head would die before they could fully reach him. The echo was good at drowning everything out like that.

But luckily, Dazai always did have a talent for evading death.

“You don’t have to do anything, I promise. I’ll–” He hesitated. How can you promise to take care of someone else when you’ve never been able to care for yourself?

“–I’ll help you. Please, Chuuya. If you stay here, it’s not going to get any better.”

Chuuya Nakahara knows that he is right. Of anyone, Osamu Dazai would know, wouldn’t he? It takes him a little while, but with a few shaky breaths and silent tears, he lifts his head and places his hand in the one outstretched before him. This won't fix him, but he has to admit that when Dazai rubs his thumb along his skin, it releases some of the tension in his shoulders. Dazai leans forward and slowly reaches for Chuuya’s other hand, stiff from how tight he was grasping onto his other arm.

“Okay, up we go.” Wasting no time to get Chuuya out of the isolation he'd built for himself, Dazai does his best to support as much of his weight as he can while holding his hands. He doesn’t know how long Chuuya had been sitting there, but he reckons his legs have probably gone numb. As if on cue, Chuuya almost falls right back down before Dazai has a hand on his waist.

“Careful.”

Chuuya's eyes are red and puffy, and his agony has left trails down his cheeks. Chuuya has always been beautiful to Dazai, stealing heartfelt glances when the former isn't looking. But seeing him like this is, in a way, even more breathtaking to Dazai. It means that after all these years of being so sick of each other's mere existence that Chuuya, his rival, his partner, trusts Dazai enough to shatter before him completely. Bringing Chuuya's hand up to his mouth, he lets his lips linger for a few moments as they wait for Chuuya's legs to regain feeling.

Once Chuuya is stable, he lets go of the shorter man’s waist and leads him with one hand, still petting his thumb across the freezing expanse of his hand.

Chuuya doesn’t know what his partner has been doing, or maybe he does. He can’t remember right now; he doesn’t want to. Wherever Dazai is taking him, it takes no longer than twenty seconds, but he feels like a stranger in his own home, wading through the thickest pool of molasses. He can see a straight hallway ahead of him, but it seems like an endless maze of twists and turns. One foot in front of the other, he tries to tell himself, but it’s hard to tell your feet what to do when you feel like a stranger in your own body to. He can feel his face growing wetter as they arrive at their destination. However, in a brief moment of relief, he realizes that they're not tears but steam.

For the time that he had disappeared past the threshold, Dazai had run Chuuya a hot bath and made him something simple to eat. Knowing all too well what feeling this way does to one’s motivation and desire. But honestly, the last thing Chuuya wants to do right now is to bathe. It’s far too much work, and he’d rather be back in the dark in the corner or under a blanket. Even if it meant he’d be alone with his stupid fucking thoughts.

“I know it seems like a chore, but it will help, Chuuya.” Dazai’s familiarity with the muddied waters of one’s own psyche was currently vastly irritating. Chuuya knows that he’s right. He does, but even then, it’s still too much for him to handle right now.

Dazai takes Chuuya’s other hand back in his own. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I– I don’t know.” His voice sounded better to Dazai, the steam probably settling in his throat.

“It’s okay not to know, but I can’t stay here with you if you don’t know.”

Chuuya snaps his head a little at that, shooting his partner an exhausted expression. Dazai gives a slight smile at the motion and gives the others' hands, still in his own, a reassuring squeeze. Perhaps it’s a little morally wrong given the circumstances, but he thinks that he could have a little, tiny bit of fun with this.

“Would you like my help?” He asks again, and Chuuya nods his head before practically collapsing into his arms.

Oh, it is absolutely morally wrong, but he can’t help himself, so he softly teases the man. “Such a gentleman! Flirting with me before we spend the night in each other's company!”

That earns a tired groan from Chuuya who is not willing to put up with Dazai’s usual jeering, but also not unexpected of the brunette to choose the completely wrong time to make his jokes.

“I’m sorry, my darling.” He uses the pet name, knowing he’ll be able to get away with it tonight since Chuuya is too tired to fight him. He runs his fingers through red strands, waiting for Chuuya’s breathing to even out in his hold before moving his hands down to the hem of his shirt. Deft fingers slip underneath and rub small circles into the skin there.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Upon receiving a satisfied hum of approval, he lifts Chuuya’s shirt over his head and drops it onto the counter. Staying out of your head is hard when you’re alone. Knowing Chuuya has already surmised his partners' intentions of distracting him, gently, Dazai pulls him back into his chest and runs his nails down his back. Chuuya’s skin was already freezing before, so he can’t tell if his goosebumps are from chills, or from him. He hopes it’s the latter. After a few seconds, his movements shift into steady pressure trying to work out the tension that Chuuya had cultivated. When he feels Chuuya fall further into him, Dazai is pleased with his work already.

“Chuuya,” he presses harder when he finds a particularly knotty spot at the base of Chuuya’s neck. “Unless you want to get in with your pants on, you’ll have to take them off.”

This earns Dazai a particularly unimpressed look when Chuuya pushes off his chest.

“What?”

Chuuya continues to stare.

“Did you want me to do it for you?”

Well, Chuuya supposes that Dazai can’t help the fact that he is an idiot. After all, he did promise to help. He rolls his eyes and lets out a particularly rumbly sigh, and drops his pants himself, kicking them to the side.

“So forward of you~” teases Dazai.

Turning towards the tub, Chuuya grumbles. “I hate you.”

Dazai grins again. Even if he still feels worse than shit, he’s glad to see Chuuya with a little bit of his fire again. “I know you do. Here, let me help.”

Holding onto Chuuya’s forearm, Dazai helps him settle into the bath. Chuuya resumes his form from earlier in the night, but much more open. His arms are propped on top of his knees, hands hanging down, and fingers just dipping into the water. Dropping his head in between his shoulders as the heat surrounds his aching body, blue eyes fall shut. Then, he releases a deep breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. Dazai has his arm across the edge of the tub, resting his head with eyes full of admiration. With Chuuya completely bare in front of him, he traces the flow of his body with his eyes. Stopping often to archive all the little things he loves. Soft red hair that he can't help but play with. Shoulders that he's cried on. The gentleness of his otherwise blood-soaked hands. Even the scars littered across his skin, Dazai loves. They look much better on Chuuya than on him. He reaches out and just barely grazes the sides of Chuuya’s fingers above the water.

“What are you so happy about?”

Dazai hums in response, and Chuuya blows a ripple on the water. They spend a while like this—still, just next to each other, the only sound being an occasional jittery breath.

Dazai interrupts the silence by dipping his fingers into the water and letting the droplets roll off onto Chuuya’s shoulder.

“Feeling better?”

Chuuya wiggles his fingers in the water, trying to find an answer below the surface.

“C’mere, and turn around.”

Chuuya turns his head, resting it along his arm and staring the man down.Dazai can read it in his eyes: For what.

“You’re still tense. So come here.” He presses his finger on the edge of the tub. “I didn’t get to finish getting all the knots out.”

Dazai is not as good at hiding his intentions from Chuuya as he thinks he can be. “You just want to play with my hair.”

Dazai knows this. He feigns being insulted anyway, throwing his hands into the air. “And so what if I do? Is that a crime? Is it wrong of me to want t–”

“You’re real insufferable, y’know.” Chuuya turns his back to the side of the bathtub.

Dazai smiles sweetly. He likes that so much of their relationship can be left unsaid. Sure, sometimes it probably shouldn’t be unsaid, but it’s fine. Dazai is happy. “It’s why we work so well together.”

He gets to work on dissipating the rest of the fear and anger in Chuuya’s bones, occasionally and very intentionally, getting sidetracked and twirling a lock of hair around his fingers. At the mercy of Dazai's frighteningly deft hands, a particular spot just above Chuuya's shoulder blade earns Dazai a groan—one he oh so graciously accepts. Working lithe fingers around it, Chuuya leans his head back onto Dazai as the little ball of stress is pulled apart, strand by strand.

Chuuya's neck is deliciously bared, and Dazai is an opportunistic man. He trails kisses up to just below red lashes, slow and endearing. He continues massaging throughout, placing a final one on fluttering eyes before dragging his lips back down to Chuuya’s ear.

“The water’s getting cool, my love. You should really get out soon.” Dazai is very pleased with himself when Chuuya shudders. (He is an opportunistic man, after all, and it truly is such a wonderful opportunity to be the most annoying man on the planet.) He lets his mouth fall down to Chuuya’s shoulder, resting for a moment and trying very hard to hold back the biggest, dopiest grin. Of course, Chuuya can tell. He can sense the smallest shifts in Dazai's behaviour. Although, this time he could tell by just feeling Dazai's facial muscles straining against his shoulder. But Dazai doesn't need to know that.

"...Shut up. Get me a towel." Chuuya does a very bad job of hiding the blush on his cheeks.

Dazai just smiles at his partner, he can't see, but it's a smile full of fondness. One with admiration, love, and as much as he'd rather die than admit it, respect too. Letting someone see you have a complete breakdown, watching as the industrial strength glue you've used to keep yourself from falling apart rapidly starts to degrade, and still trusting that they won't think any differently of or diminish you, takes so much courage. It takes so much trust to rely on someone, even someone you love, to help you set the pieces back together.

That's something Dazai has never been able to do. He can't let go of that vulnerability, and he cannot have it used against him. Of course, deep down, Dazai knows that Chuuya would never do that to him, but it's hard to turn off those thoughts. It's hard to think of yourself as worth loving and caring for when you have never loved or cared for yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" The smile on Dazai's face is forlorn. Realizing that Chuuya is reading him like a book Dazai masterfully shifts his expression, changing the atmosphere around him. This is not about him, and he shouldn't be making it so.

"I'm just peachy, Chibi!” Chuuya doesn't press any further.

Dazai wraps the towel around him, pulling at the ends to bring his partner closer. Taking a second to look over Chuuya, he notes that his eyes are no longer red and puffy, and his skin has a sheen from the moisture in the air. He truly is the most breathtaking person Dazai has ever had the displeasure of meeting.

With Chuuya at his chest, he leans down and kisses the man. It's needy, in a way. Soft and tender, but full of so much want, so much need. Like if he couldn't be close to Chuuya anymore, he would simply explode. Dazai doesn't know how to express it though. How he would articulate these thoughts in a way that feels right, so he settles for something simple. Maybe it's not as meaningful, but he trusts that Chuuya understands anyway.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai x chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #chuuya x dazai #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #❀.writing #❀.drabbles

21 notes · View notes

narcolini · 1 year

Text

open wounds

frank castle x gn!reader, ex dating, hurt/comfort, 2404 words

for day 6 of whumpril : salve | painkillers | bad coping mechanisms

warnings for burns, implied suicidal intentions, terrible first aid probably

a/n: yknow when you love a character so much that you dont even know where to start with writing about them?? no?? just me?? im shaking in my boots... also huge shout out to @ashlingiswriting for helping with this!!

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa (five times as requested)

He’s dripping wet. Frank, back at your door, for the first time in half a year, and dripping wet from head to toe. His jeans, his hoody, his boots—which must weigh a tonne, if they’re as full of water as the rest of him. He’s scrubbed his face dry, clearly, because the front of his hair is sticking upright, brushed up by the rough of his fingertips, and his cheeks are cleaner than the rest of him. Bare of the grime he’s covered in. If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you scoff, bypassing all other greetings. You don’t even spare the thought to be annoyed at him, to tell him to go away, get out of here, before someone sees you. You just balk, and frown, and hang off the door as you look him over. ‘You look like you went free-diving in the river, Frank.’

He doesn’t respond, just sighs and tilts his head as if to say—

‘Oh my God.’ He did. He jumped into the fucking river. ‘That explains the stink, then.’

‘Yup.’

It’s pouring off him. Stale water, oil spill.

‘Look, I gotta ask you a favour,’ he says, awkward about it, though you’d thought as much already. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.’

And you wouldn’t let him in, either, if you didn’t have to.

‘Come in.’ The less time he spends in the corridor, the better. ‘Do I even want to know what you…’ The words fizzle out once you’re behind him, door closed and facing his back.

The material of his hoody has been singed away, not entirely, but across his shoulders and in patches down his spine, the t-shirt beneath in a similar state. He’d been set alight, somehow, long enough for it to burn all the way through. Two layers of cloth and then skin. Red, raw, skin.

‘Jesus, Frank.’

‘Had to put it out somehow,’ he shrugs, ‘seemed like the quickest option.’

‘Do you even realise how much shit is in that river?’

But he must do, of course, because he’s here. He’s not at home, self-medicating, slapping soap and water on it and hoping for the best. He’s here because he’s smart enough to realise bacteria will kill him easier and faster than any bullet would. Which isn’t usual, for most, but he has a knack for surviving no matter how many holes they put in him.

‘Bathroom, please,’ you tell him. You remember where it is.

You watch him nod in front of you, hands tucked in the sodden pockets of his hoody. He’s holding himself rigid—tense arms, straight shoulders—to hide the shakes, you realise. The wet has gotten into the bones, chilled him deep enough to send shivers through the muscles. Why he’s bothering to try and cover it, you don’t know. You’ve seen him in worse shapes.

When he reaches the bathroom, you in tow, he turns and waits. In front of you, on the curling blue bath matt beneath. It’s been a long time since you’d done him a favour. A long time, since you’d been alone with him, for reasons other than why this doesn’t work, why the two of you won’t work.

You sigh, close your eyes. He knows as well as you do what’s coming.

‘Am I in danger,’ you ask, feeling the sick twist of regime in your stomach, the edge of familiarity in the question, ‘by you being here? Is it putting me in danger?’

‘No, no, I promise.’ His head shakes. ‘No-one knows I’m here.’

‘You’re sure?’

He pauses, swallows. Nods. ‘It’s just me.’

‘And is it only the burns? Nothing else?’

‘I’d do it myself, but I,’ his teeth chatter, ‘I can’t reach.’

‘Okay.’ No surprise gunshot wounds, no broken bones. You can handle it, as long as you know what to expect. ‘I’ll do my best,’ you tell him, now you know it isn’t at your detriment, and turn to look through the cabinet above the sink.

‘Thank-you,’ he begins, which you try to wave off. ‘No, I mean it, I—I know you must hate…’ The words get away from him. A drop of water shakes from the peak of his hair onto his cheek. ‘Yeah, just, thank-you.’

You know what he’s implying. He’s as wrong about it now as he was then.

‘I don’t hate you, Frank.’

‘Well, you don’t like me much,’ he grumbles. ‘Not that I blame you.’

You don’t like his choices. You don’t like his instincts. You don’t like his susceptibility to getting himself in trouble, once a fucking week. ‘Take this off,’ you tell him, tugging at the sopping wet of his sleeve. ‘You’re shivering.’

He complies, jaw-setting as he pulls both the hoody and t-shirt over his head, no doubt having to rip the burnt-fibres from the edges of his wounds. He does well to hide it—if that’s the case—removes them without a hiss of pain, or any hesitation. The wet lump of them lands on the tiles with a slap, water splattering over your socks.

You fill the sink, making sure it’s lukewarm, cool. It’d be better to douse him with hot water, really, to stop the shivers and get rid of the smell, but the burns are more pressing. The very last thing they need is more heat.

‘Jeans and socks too. Then sit on the bath,’ you instruct before leaving the room. It isn’t for privacy’s sake, but to get your blanket from the couch and a clean towel from the closet. Get him warm, get the site disinfected, then cover it in Saran wrap and hope for the best. It isn’t as good as real, authoritative, medical treatment, but it’s better than he could manage by himself.

When you’re back, he’s done as you said again, and is sitting on the edge of the bath in just his boxers. A sorry sight, long past the invitation that it used to be. You’re sure there’s scars there that you aren’t familiar with, across his chest, below his naval, but there isn’t time to inspect them. He’s shaking still, and looking up at you like he’s sorry to occupy the space at all.

‘You ever treated burns?’ he asks, as you hand him the blanket.

‘Nothing like that,’ you admit. ‘Spin.’

He does. You put the towel on the floor beneath his back, where the drips will be, as he drapes the blanket over his lap. He isn’t shy about it now, how cold he is. He pulls the edge of the throw up to his chin, tucking his arms inside it, and gives a bigger, exaggerated shiver afterwards. Like he’s purging it, and inviting warmth to take it’s place now that it’s out.

Without the clothes, the burns look dangerous. Red and angry, almost the print of a cross over his back, with the worst of them sitting in a thick strip along his shoulder blades.

‘What even…?’ You brush a thumb by the edge of it, bending down to get a closer look; it’s not just a burn, but a scrape too, a layer of skin torn off like he’s been dragged over tarmac. ‘What happened, beyond the fire?’

You don’t mean the order of events that led to it, or the reasoning behind him shouldering fire in the first place—you’re long past caring or asking about his endeavours. Anything that ends in a list of dead bodies, people he’s killed, is none of your business. That stopped being your problem, the same time he did. But the longer you look, the less it seems like a simple, standard burn. The less you know about how to treat it.

Frank grunts, head dipped. ‘Over-estimated a jump. Slipped off a, a wall, going into the river.’

You wince. ‘Yeah, looks like you left a bit of your back attached to it.’

He puffs out through his nose. ‘That bad?’

Not by his standards, you’re sure. ‘Well. I think it’s saved you from the worst of the blistering, at least.’ The smaller scalds will, no doubt, tonight or tomorrow, but the wide abrasion across the top might have saved him from something more severe. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to put cream on them,’ you say, ‘but I’ve got an antiseptic spray that I think will be worth the risk.’ And the pain. ‘Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, without hesitation, ‘do what you gotta do.’

When you start at it with the water, poured slow from a mug and onto his back, he hisses. Sucks breaths in and out between the clench of his teeth, regulates the pain for your sake alone, you’re sure, and you can bare that. You can work while he does that, quiet and dedicated.

But when you move onto the spray, he swears, low and rasping, like he hates you for a moment. Like he’s angry at you, the antiseptic, the base of the bath that he thumps with his heel.

‘I’m sorry,’ you put quickly, unable to ignore it. ‘This is the worst part.’

Maybe bad enough, really, that you shouldn’t be doing it at all. In the grand scheme of things, agitated burns are better than infection, right? Better than leaving whatever germs live in the Hudson, to fester in the scrapes of his skin.

‘Keep going,’ he insists, through the clench of his jaw—so you do, grimacing each time he swears and flinches under you.

By the time it’s done, dried and wrapped, you’re both exhausted. Him more than you, that you can admit. He sits quietly on the bath now, waiting for the painkillers you’d promised. It’s the first time he hasn’t tried to convince you that he doesn’t need them.

‘Here.’ You hand him the pills, the glass of water. Watch him swallow them both, before sitting beside him, facing the opposite way. Shoulder to shoulder. ‘I think that’s about all I can do for you,’ you say, glancing at his waiting gaze.

He’s got his head turned towards you, dark eyes only inches away. You can’t match them for long. You’re looking back at the pile of wet clothes on the floor before you speak again.

‘If it shows any sign of infection, Frank.’

He puts the glass down, head shaking in the edge of your vision. ‘I’m not going to a hospital. I can’t.’ He’s dead already, he means, and waltzing into the ER would ruin the only leg-up he has.

‘Then someone who knows more than me, at least,’ you insist. ‘You can’t do any of your righteous, vigilante bullshit with sepsis, you know.’

‘I know,’ he says, and he means it. Sounds sore about it too, regretful, even. Not because of his health, but because of what it would take from him.

You let him sit with that for a moment, watching him drop the blanket from his shoulders and put his hands over the top of it instead, pooling in his lap. The shaking’s stopped now; without the wet clothes, and in the warmth of your home, it didn’t take long to scare them away. After the ordeal you put him through, he’s sweating instead. Damp across his brow.

‘Why d’you do it?’ you ask, though you’d told yourself long ago that you would stop asking him that. Stop wasting your breath on something that would never change.

‘Do what?’ He looks like he might laugh, glancing sideways at you, like he’s itching to say, you think I toasted myself on purpose? But it’s over-compensation, really. He knows what you mean.

‘Put yourself in these fucking situations, every time…’ You sigh. ‘You had a chance to get out, Frank. To start fresh.’

But why bother saying it to him? You know the answer as soon as it comes from your lips. You know what makes him do it. You know he can’t function otherwise. If bad coping mechanisms had a poster boy, he would be it. If self-hatred and self-pity was a competition, he’d win. He would lap everyone before they’d even got off the mark.

‘You’ve got to retire at some point,’ you tell him, which sounds like a plea you hadn’t aimed to give.

He scoffs, shaking his head. His thumbs toy with the edge of the blanket. ‘You know it doesn’t work like that.’

Not for him, that’s the truth, and it snowballs in your head until you say, ‘You’re gonna keep going until something kills you, aren’t you?’

He doesn’t answer, because he can’t do that either. Admitting it aloud, to himself or to you, would make it real. Undeniable.

‘Well,’ you start, bending the conversation into something liveable again, ‘you’re lucky your ex is so good at first aid.’ You shoulder him, lightly, smiling until he smiles back. Just enough.

‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘yeah, I am.’ He considers you for a moment, before tucking his chin and looking to his hands. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so,’ he hesitates, searching for the word.

‘Willing?’

He nods. ‘Thought I’d have to talk you into it.’

You snort, a real smile creeping onto your lips. ‘Would you have begged if I asked you to?’

‘I don’t know.’ His brows pinch together, thick and sorry-looking. ‘Would you have turned me away if I didn’t?’

‘No,’ you realise, because you had patched him up too often to let him suffer now. The blood on your hands has to have been worth something. ‘But I’d have taken an extra pass with that spray.’

He laughs weakly. ‘Yeah, that, I’d probably deserve.’

Because that’s his answer to everything, isn’t it? Every ounce of pain he endures, is nothing but a coin in the never ending debt that he owes himself. The only person that would ever expect it of him. The only one that thinks he deserves this, burns and wounds that he can’t fix for himself.

‘I think you should go,’ you say quietly, as your heart tugs in the opposite direction. ‘It’s late.’

Late, and approaching the longest time you’ve spent with him since the two of you broke up. Any longer and you might forget why.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #whumpril2023 #whumpril #the way i am shakinggggggg at this being my first frank fic every omg #i dont even know if its frank like at all but it certainly carries the name #LMAO

145 notes · View notes

widowbitessting · 2 years

Text

Sugar Mommies Pt.15

Right imma apologies for the LONG wait for this part! 😂 I’m still not overly happy with it buuuuut yeah, it’s finally here! The Sugar Mommies Trio! are back!❤️

I’m going to tag everyone like I did yesterday with the Drabble and if anyone’s username isn’t underlined - apparently it doesn’t tag you - I’m gonna remove you so if your username is taken off, let me know and I’ll retag you. Lol me trying to desperately make this tag list work!

Please let this tag list work!

New upload time is every Sunday at 8pm GMT (London) time!

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️

MJ(11:13): Y/N did you get milk when you went grocery shopping??🤔

MJ(11:13): Cuz I can’t find it…

MJ(11:13): I really need my hot chocolate fix too, Y/N.

MJ(11:14): Y/N????

MJ(11:14): You’re always on your phone, what are you doing???

MJ(11:14): Shit

MJ(11:14):…you went out to your gals didn’t you…

MJ(11:14): 😳😳

MJ(11:14): God,you’re so horny I love it😋

MJ(11:14): Did you take protection?

MJ(11:15): I’m not ready to be an auntie!

Wanda stops reading when you cover your face with a pillow.

“Shall I continue?”

God, you can hear her smirking even though you can’t see her.

“Is murder still illegal here?” You ask, voice slightly muffled.

Wanda drags the pillow from your face and sticks her bottom lip out in a small pout.

She squishes your face with her fingers and pecks your lips.

“Unfortunately, my sweet.”

“Shame.”

“Shall I continue?” Wanda asks again.

“Is there more?”

You don’t know why you’re so shocked. It’s MJ. She once spammed your phone with 50+ messages when you were in the shower at your parents’ house, and she was binge watching Stranger Things.

“There’s a lot more, baby.”

You exhale loudly through your nose.

“Please say yes, I kinda want to see how she ends these texts.”

“She’s actually so embarrassing.”

“Pleeeease?” Wanda shoots you with her best puppy dog eyes and you give in almost immediately.

“Go on then.”

“Yes!” Wanda looks back at your phone, “where was I?”

MJ(11:15): I’d be an amazing auntie wouldn’t I?

MJ(11:15): Yknow, if you actually reply to me, I’ll slap you.

MJ(11:15): After your women do of course…😏

MJ(11:15): you’d think I’d stop texting you by now…buuuut nope!

MJ(11:16): What’re the chances your ladies will kill me if I interrupt you again?

“Quite high.” Wanda mutters. “Luckily you were too…occupied…this time.”

Wanda winks at you and you blush.

MJ(11:17): Anyways, hope you have fun! If you’re hoarse when you come home then I know why!

MJ(11:17): last thing I promise, did you get that milk or not…?

Wanda looks at you, eyes dipping down to where you’re holding the bed sheet to your bare chest.

“Her last text says she’s locked herself out again. Does your friend do this often or just when you’re with us?”

You can’t help but laugh when Wanda tells you this.

“She’s locked out again?”

“She is.” Wanda hands you your phone. “See?”

There it is, encased in a dark grey bubble, MJ’s iMessage.

MJ(11:18): Sooo I was rushing out and didn’t grab my keys…any chance you’re nearly done screaming over there?

“Not to be rude…but is your friend an idiot?”

You shrug.

“She’s just…MJ…very forgetful MJ…”

“Hasn’t she got a boyfriend?”

“Peter? Yeah.”

“Does she have keys to his place?” Wanda asks.

You nod with pursed lips.

“They’re with the keys she locked in the apartment aren't they?”

“They are. I actually think they’re on a hook by the door to be more specific.”

Wanda lets out a laugh and grabs your phone back.

When you see her begin to type back to MJ, you dive forward with a startled noise.

“What are you doing?”

Wanda moves effortlessly away from you, stepping off the bed in one swift move and you can do nothing but follow her.

You hastily wrap the sheet tighter around your body, giggling after Wanda.

“I’m just giving her some advice.” Wanda says, moving your phone out of reach.

Once she finishes typing, Wanda shows you what she’s written and waits patiently for you to read it.

“Go get a hot chocolate and meet up with Peter for a while. Y/N will be back much later - Wanda.”

“Am I okay to send it?”

“I’ll do you one better…”

You press send yourself and smile up at the other woman. She grins down at you, puts your phone on aeroplane mode so MJ can’t disturb you again and tosses it blindly onto the bed.

“Now…where were we?”

Wanda’s hands grip your wrists firmly and she pulls slightly so that the sheet droops slightly.

“Y’know, I’m really having a hard time sharing you with MJ. Especially when you’re wearing that.”

You’d swallow if you had any moisture left in your mouth.

“Oh yeah?”

She nods.

The taller woman leans down and captures your lips with her own; kissing you possessively.

She suddenly pulls you flush against her, tearing your hands from where they’re keeping what little modesty you have, so that the sheet falls freely away.

Leaving you standing in their bedroom naked.

Whilst kissing a very clothed, and very turned on, Wanda.

She moves to your neck quickly, teeth finding home in your skin, marking you up with little to no care.

She nips a little too hard, causing you to hiss as you’re backed up blindly.

And when you’re about to buckle down onto the mattress, Wanda’s hands lift you effortlessly before chucking you onto the bed.

Watching wordlessly as you bounce a couple of times.

Before she practically jumps on the bed, towering over you with a smile.

Wanda pecks you before moving to kiss down your chest - lavishing at your nipples until they become small peaks.

When your hips buckle, Wanda drags herself lower, her spit glistening on your skin as she settles herself between your legs.

“I was gutted I didn’t get a taste before.” Wanda mutters. She licks you greedily and moans as your taste fills her mouth. “Now you’re all mine.”

And fuck, your eyes roll to the back of your head.

She doesn’t relent once she has you, arms locking around your thighs to keep you where she wanted.

Her tongue moves at an almost inhuman speed against you, wet noises gushing from you.

When Wanda shifts her arms from you, you whine at the loss of contact.

It’s only for a small moment however; as seconds later, with a devious grin and wink up at you, Wanda slips two fingers into your clenching hole, and when you feel her teeth graze your clit, a small scream escapes you.

Your eyes flutter shut as you can feel the coil in your belly tightening again.

Your hands grip onto Wanda’s hair.

“Gonna cum already for me, kotenok?”

“Uh huh.”

You shamelessly grind your hips up to meet her face.

“That’s my girl.”

“Faster.” You all but plead.

Wanda’s fingers curl inside you as she quickens her pace, switching from sucking on your clit to rubbing it with her free hand.

“I wanted you to ride my face,” Wanda says as she moves herself closer to your face before kissing you soundly. “But I was just too eager to fuck you, baby girl. Maybe next time.”

“S-sure!”

You continue to moan as Wanda’s fingers fuck you qucker, moving in such a rhythem that has you squelching around her.

When she stops abruptly, your eyes are quick to look at her.

She smiles smugly down at you as she removes her glistening fingers to suck them into her mouth.

Wanda moans at your taste.

“Your turn.”

You open your mouth as Wanda slides her two fingers into your mouth.

You’re quick to suck on them, tasting the small residue of yourself still on her.

“That’s a good girl. Get them nice and wet for me, detka.” Wanda is hypnotised by the way you suck on her fingers. “Not that you need it, you’re so fucking wet for me.”

When she pushes back into you, two fingers automatically curl, she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until you’re shaking under her.

She kisses you as you let out an incoherent steam of words, hands cupping her face as you close in on your high.

“That’s it.” Wanda pecks your nose. “Cum for me.”

The coil in your belly snaps.

You let out a silent cry as your orgasm hits you, body shuddering under her.

She lets you ride it out before withdrawing her fingers from you, kissing you soundly.

“You okay, detka?” she asks, settling beside you.

You can’t figure out how to form words anymore so you can only nod at her.

“Good girl.” She sucks on your fingers again, enjoying your taste. “I’ve got one question to ask you though.”

“Oh?”

“Think you can cum again for me?”

You stare at her, slightly dumbfounded.

“I - I…maybe?”

Wanda grins.

She settles more comfortably on her back and brushes her hair out of her face.

“Hop on, baby girl.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want you to ride my face. C’mere.”

When you don’t move, Wanda raises an eyebrow.

“Do not make me ask again. Come here.”

You rise on shaky legs and slowly mouth her face; where Wanda wastes no time.

She pulls you down roughly against her face, lips enclosing around your pussy.

In hindsight, you’re wondering if you should be ashamed of how quickly Wanda made you cum like that, her mouth and tongue working wonders against you.

It takes you under 60 seconds until your release is leaking down Wanda’s chin and you’re being nudged back onto the bed, panting.

“You taste amazing.” Wanda murmurs, gathering your excess juices on her finger before licking them clean. “I think I’m hooked.”

“I think I’m hooked, Wanda.” You let out a shaky laugh. “Is it bad that I can't feel my legs?”

Wanda lets out a laugh, watching as you look around the bedroom.

“Is it bad that I’ve just noticed Carol and Nat aren’t here…?”

Wanda snorts and taps your nose.

“I’m sure their gigantic egos will be able to cope.”

“Where are they?”

“Business called.” Wanda glances at your bare chest. “They’re on a Zoom in the office.”

“Weren’t you needed?” You ask.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

You snort out a laugh.

“Shut up.”

Wanda hums and leans down to peck your lips.

“I could have gone but I wouldn't have done much.” Wanda replies. “Besides, there’s a beautiful girl in our bed; what better excuse is there?”

Your eyes widen.

“You didn’t tell your boss that, did you?”

Her fingers trace down the length of your jaw.

“So what if I did?” She asks. “In fact, we all told the bosses the same thing…”

“What?”

“Relax, detka; we’re the bosses. It’s our company.”

You’re shocked but then you can’t really say you’re surprised. Everything just makes sense.

“Of course you are.”

Wanda can’t stop smiling.

“They’ll be finished soon enough. Then we’ll all get ready and go out; as long as you’re able to walk that is.”

“Oh! We’re still going out?”

“Of course...we don’t intend to keep you trapped in our bed.” Wanda replies, “unless you want to be...”

You playfully shove her with a laugh.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

Wanda shrugs.

“Don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m actually not. Carol and Nat won’t tell me either. Apparently I’m a walking spoiler. Or whatever that means.”

This time it’s your turn to tap her nose.

“That is hilariously cute.” You say. “Do you really not know where we’re going?”

“Nope. They don’t tell me about gifts either because I can’t keep them a secret.”

You stretch and let out a loud groan.

“What time are we going again?” You ask.

“1. You’ve got about an hour until we need to go.”

You pause to think before saying,

“I have two requests…”

“Go on,” Wanda replies, interested.

“Am I okay to have a shower before we go? I smell of…sex…”

“Of course, kotenok.” she grins. “What is your next request?”

“Can you carry me? I think my legs have turned to jelly.”

❤️💋❤️💋

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.6.5 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10 Pt.11 Pt.12 Pt.13 Pt.14

Tag List under the cut!

@fishlikestuff @spartanghost118 @ironsnowstorm @romeo-the-cactus @brutashafan @midnightreme @your-my-mission @trikruismybitch @bitxhinthecomments @messuhp @severepeanutartisanhands @8plasma @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @khiaraaa-in-spacee @madamevirgo @selluequestrian @kaitlynroseb @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @coollemonsaresour @pianogirl2121 @loomontoia @wandas-lover @cybeleceto @tomy5girls @starmako26 @claudiamyan @emilyprentisslittlewhore @vynia @cordeliaswhore @angelicl-y @ashadash0904 @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all @stuckyforliife @ktstudies @your-my-mission @tomy5girls @coollemonsaresour @khiaraaa-in-spacee @emilyprentisslittlewhore @umsolikeblog @angelicblackwolf @pianogirl2121 @upsidedowndanvers @anastasiabeaverhousen87 @wrennieee-blog-blog @spiderling-18 @madamevirgo @beforeoursecrets @8plasma @imdreamingblo@wandas-love @mmmmokdok @greydinosauregg @crazylittlereader2474 @thatonehippiefriend @midgardianweasley @battleg03 @sav06nat @marvelwomen-simp @ineedafinghug @suki-is-a-queen @wandanatblogs @wandanatstan @im-in-demilesbians-with-you @crispychaospanda @raqelacevedo @harmoni0527 @starmako26 @osterfield23 @wandanatblogs @ophelias-heart @natashafamdreams @osterfield23 @sweeterlust @adyadalia @jemilyssecretlover @aleynaishere @jayxxace @smileyromanoff @ashadash0904 @scxpingdrms @amcg0615 @insomniac-delusions @yorkthelocksmith @emilyprentisslittlewhore @wandavixen @gay-ant @iwantwatermelonrn @marvelxdickinsonmarvelxdickinson @marvelwomen-simp @alianovnasworld @whhyyynottt @wandaswigglywoos-ish @lexi-2003-love @smallestavenger @mcu-churrio @fastlikealambo @luflufsstuff @birdie0101 @fabgronsky @insomniac-delusions @theheeheeman @idontknownemore @scxpingdrms @depression-desu @ashadash0904 @demonslayer06 @spookymomfriendtm @smromanoff @raqelacevedo @wandanatfan @simpforflorencepugh1 @s1ut4nat @d14n4ol @alianovnasworld @academiagaymess @natblidaclexa @childofsapph0 @mellxa @messuhp @valiantmugcowboyscissors @luflufsstuff @lorsstar1st @alianovnasworld @wandaswigglywoos-ish @itwas-neverreal @pianogirl2121 @itwas-neverreal @forever-a-diamond-bitch @sayah13 @scxrlett-wid0w @alianovnasworld @froufrousnowman @scarletwidow21 @robnicole @likefirenrain @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ejeiwbskqn @arin-swear-rose @aloaph @jjs-doll @mommysslutsworld @geico-insuranc @ashadash0904 @scxrlett-wid0w @sayah13 @froufrousnowman @anyilherrona @alianovnasworld @whhyyynottt @schuylersthelimit @tomy5girls @caylusromanoff @sadlesbitch @silver-lotus @milaackerman69 @onmykneesforwanda @imtrebleandsharp @alana-debnamcarey @comfy-mee @immathinkerg @simpforwandanat @alianovnasworld @luckypupsmama @sophiecala @shrekisloveshrekislifw @xoxolittledizzy @nattyswidow @mcu-romanoff @njavezan @laurenmaximoff @druggedduck @laylayb1106 @speedytimetravelgalaxy @snowdrop1026 @scarletts-future-wife @darling-dontforgetme @r4nd0mgir1 @heartsforlee @r4nd0mgir1 @heartsforlee @geico-insuranc @copper-boom @emmamaximoff11@sweetmissnothing @readings-stuff @villanelles-little-wh0r3 @bigfinsquidd @copper-boom @yelenatwanda @wizardofstories @beinggayanddoingcrime @ashw0lf @adnawidow @wandanats-ghost @mall6ry @violetromanova @navyblueobsessed @elle-romanoff@readings-stuff @practiceinpublic@yelenatwanda@simplysimping999@darling-dontforgetme@talia-alianovna@maiyaisdumb @inluvwithfictionalwomen@gay-ant@wannabe-fic-reader@10-19-17uswnt@rt--link@sluttyforfemaleavengers@im-just-a-gay-fanfic-reader@anastasiabeaverhousen87@olicity-boo@gryffindorkromanoff@ara-a-bird@lesbianfornatasha@anchorjdm@whoreforjimhopper

#sugar mommies #smu #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #carol danvers #reader insert #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #carol x reader #natasha x wanda x carol x reader

514 notes · View notes