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willowser · 6 months

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katsuki wakes up to little fingers walking up the curve of his bicep.

his son is sitting there at the head of the bed, right next to him, waiting, and when katsuki opens one bleary eye to peek up at him, the little boy very casually says,

"hey, dad."

it's the middle of the day. katsuki's been on night patrol for the past week and it's, unfortunately, starting to finally catch up to him; through the first few days, he was able to keep constant with you and your son's schedule, even if he was exhausted, but he'd hit the couch the minute he'd come inside this morning and, truthfully, he doesn't remember getting up for the bed at all.

when katsuki gives a little grunt of acknowledgement, the little boy continues, scooching close enough that his knees are pressed against his dad's arm. "um, can i play that jumping game on your phone?"

even half-asleep, katsuki snorts. there's a small puddle of drool that's gathered on the pillow under his head, and he frowns, stretching out his arms before rolling onto his back. "not right now."

the little boy lets out a heavy sigh, as if the answer has greatly disappointed him, but he says, "okay."

katsuki nearly falls back to sleep—even though his son scoots closer, until they're touching again—but he raises his head at the soft sound of your voice.

"hey, c'mon," you murmur from the foot of the bed, holding out your arms even if the little boy is too big to be babied anymore. "let daddy sleep, come sit with me while i wait for your stinky clothes to finish washing."

you're pretty, katsuki thinks, taking a long look at the jeans hugging your hips, how the color of your shirt compliments your skin, and he cements it to the forefront of his mind as he drops his head back down. it's easier to relax like this: thinking of you, gentle and safe inside your home.

but the little boy at his side whines, grouchy enough that katsuki peeks one eye at him again. "no," he grumbles, scooting into the crevice of his dad's armpit when you reach a little further for him. "i wanna take a nap, too."

you let out a little sigh. "oh, you do? little boy, you never want to take a nap."

"yes i do!"

"hey," katsuki croaks, frowning at his son for the arguing—and the boy knows it; he shuts his lips, casting you a quick look before laying back, head resting on katsuki's shoulder. "'s'fine," he tells you, shaking his head when you pout at him apologetically. "he says he's gonna nap, he's gonna nap."

your son nods, the soft of his hair ruffling against katsuki's nose. "mommy can nap, too."

"yeah," katsuki pats the bed through his yawn, dropping his head back one final time, as his eyes shut. "can nap, too."

"mommy has things to do," you press a kiss to katsuki's forehead, and then lean over to press another onto your son. "but you gotta sleep, okay? no goofing around."

katsuki feels the nudge of his son's nose as he turns his head into him, hair tickling him again as he nods—and for a while, he's still, quiet enough that katsuki can mostly fall back to sleep.

but after a few minutes, he can hear the soft sounds of his lips moving as he talks to himself, whispers little stories katsuki knows you've told him before, and he even lightly touches his fingers to the scar beneath katsuki's eye; poking at the ones on his shoulders; the edge of the one on his chest, peeking up over the blanket.

the little boy doesn't sleep, and katsuki doesn't either, really, but—he doesn't mind too much.

#cw children #i hsve to go back to work but I TOLD UOU i could talk about it firever BYE #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: dad bakugou

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em-dualism · 1 year

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What Shatters You?

exhaustion.

you have tried to be Atlas for far too long. your legs tremble and shoulders creak beneath the weight of the world you carry. every step forward is a battle, yet you soldier on... for what? when will you learn that you are allowed to lower your heavy burdens?

Tagged by: @bionicparrot

Tagging: Whoever wants!

#considering there weren't a lot of options on this one yeah this kinda tracks #kinda fits both of them in a way..#they're trying so hard to get at these perceived goals they have and it's taking a lot out of them. mostly pat #tag game

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megistusdiary · 4 months

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wrio mains and lovers... kicking feet and giggling. this is so self-indulgent

size kink with wriothesley

dom!wriothesely x smaller sub!fem (anatomy/pronouns) reader

warnings: smut (mdni), size kink (dom>sub), blowjob (+ throat bulge), dacryphilia, a little grinding, obligatory manhandling, power play, fingering (sub receiving), a tiny bit of asphyxiation (mostly just his hand on your throat), missionary, doggy style, messy tbh, praise ♡

"what's the matter, sweetheart?" wriothesley smirks, thighs spread wide as your hands rest atop them. he seems unbothered even with your nails digging into his skin.

his hand trails from the top of your head down your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. his other hand has occupied itself behind your head, keeping your mouth wide open around his cock.

"doing such a good job, baby." he coos, the hand on your cheek going to lightly touch the bulge he's made in your throat. "look so pretty trying to take all of me...is it too much?" he asks, knowing very well you can't talk with the way he holds you firmly on him.

your eyelids flutter shut from slight embarrassment at the way his eyes haven't left you. "hey, don't do that. look at me." he reminds you.

when you finally open your eyes you feel his thumbs gently swiping under your eyes to collect the tears. he allows you to pull away slightly, lips glossy with saliva and slick as you pant, catching your breath.

wriothesley groans at the image of you before him. "aren't you just gorgeous, huh? come here." he pats his lap, but he picks you up himself.

"hold on-" you try to protest, but he sets you down like you weigh nothing at all.

"cute, sweetheart, but i can handle it." he leans forward and kisses your cheek, then your lips, tasting himself on you as his tongue slides over your own.

he mumbles praises in between kisses, his larger hands splayed over your hips as he gently grinds you against his dick, your own wetness rubbing onto him. your hands come to wind themselves around his neck, leaning your head towards his shoulder as you whimper into his ear.

wriothesley sees fit to pick you up again, depositing you onto the bed with a soft thud as he leans over you. he distracts you with his lips on your own while his hand trails down your chest and stomach, gently rubbing your inner thigh, pushing your legs wider apart as he smiles into your mouth.

his fingers slide across your pussy, gathering your slick, teasingly dipping his fingertips in once they're wet enough, just to pull away again.

he slides them back up to swirl around your clit, coating it in wetness as you writhe beneath him while he captures your moans with his lips. he takes his time, sliding his fingers in, spreading your slick until it's across your pussy and onto your thighs.

wriothesley stretches you out, reminding you just how much of a stretch it'll be when you take him. "don't wanna hurt you, baby, just relax." he coos.

"i can take it, come on already!" you huff, but your frustration dissipates when his hand comes to lay over your throat, very lightly squeezing the sides. your moans turn into breathy little whines, gripping his wrist softly as he continues to stretch you open, easing three fingers in and out of you.

he insists it's all to prepare you, though you swear it feels more teasing, the way he crooks his fingers and swipes a thumb over your puffy clit.

when he finally deems you ready, he's gently pushing into you, giving you ample time to adjust. despite all that prep, you still find yourself gripping onto his locks, tugging gently at his hair, then switching to claw at his back.

his breath is warm as he leans down, softly panting against your shoulder, mumbling about how good you feel around him. your eyelids have long since fluttered shut as you grip onto him while he fucks you, legs wrapped around his back, heels digging in.

the noise that you make when he suddenly pulls out is downright pathetic, only to turn surprised when he maneuvers you instead on all fours. he's pushing your back down with one hand to force you into a pretty arch all for him. "so pretty for me." he smiles behind you, easing his tip through your folds teasingly before sliding back in.

he maintains the pressure on your back, sliding up to your head to keep your cheek pressed to the mattress. he watches the way you grip tightly onto the sheets in your fists, listening to every single noise he can draw out from you.

his own head tilts back, a groan escaping him when you tighten around him suddenly when he angles his hips just so, leaving you a whining and whimpering mess. he leans over you, bare chest pressing into your back, grunting lowly into your ear before kissing your neck and cheek over and over.

"so good for me, sweetheart, so good.."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #fem reader #genshin x female reader #wrio smut #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

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radiance1 · 4 months

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inspired by this wonderful art made by @puppetmaster13u

So, Danny, cemented king and practically father of the Blob Ghosts and certified little shit.

Has found something new to play with.

For you see, despite his various kidnappings by the GIW Danny was never aware of there being a League of Earth's mightiest heroes at all. He off-handily mentioned them to Henry, who was now genuinely jobless because even though he never got told he knew he was jobless for helping Danny escape and Henry?

Henry did not want any part of this, he's just a civilian he doesn't want to meet the Justice League of all people!

Sadly, Danny did not care at all in the slightest.

Henry was then reminded of why Danny was valued by the GIW and why he also king class ghost entity (the only other known king class was the Ghost King who they barely have any information of). Because he easily, cleared the distance between Amity Park and Metropolis.

Henry, unfortunately, was not used to traveling at such speeds and was left hanging limply in Danny's arm as everything started spinning and thinking he might puke.

Danny, being the child that he is at heart, immediately starts calling out Superman's name. Superman, predictably and unsurprisingly, hears this and comes over questioning who was calling him.

Danny decides to be even more of a little shit by speaking in ghost speak even though just earlier he called out Superman's name in clear English. Henry, the de-facto translator, is out of commission right now so Superman is really just left guessing here.

Unless, you go with the fact that Kyrptonian is a dead language, and since Superman can speak and knows Kyrptonian, Danny's ghost speak is automatically translated to Kyrptonian.

Superman is, understandably, stumped by this occurrence and he may or may not form the idea that Danny might be a Kyrptonian.

Danny then gently places Henry down on the roof, pats him on the head, tells a few blob ghosts to keep an eye on their new littlest sibling while Dad has fun.

Then he turns to Superman, with the most feral, shit eating grin on his face. Cracks his knuckles, and then tells Superman that they're going to have a fight.

He wasn't asking, and before Superman could say anything he's already been punched through the air. Not that it hurt, really, mostly took him by surprise, but now Superman is now in a fight with what may or may not be a Kryptonian.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #dragon danny #blob dragon danny #blob ghosts #Danny's first thought when he heard about the Justice League was to fight them #Then he pulled up on Superman and did just that #The blob ghosts are being little cheerleaders on the sidelines of this fight #While Henry is being a worrywart because of what Danny is doing #Some blob ghosts of course start trying to reassure their new baby sibling because their dad can do basically anything #How did Henry go from a scientist who experimented on ghosts to being adopted by a king class entity?#He has no fucking clue.#Pariah and Danny are the only King class ghosts known to the GIW #They would classify Clockwork as a King class entity too if they knew of him #King is like the highest or whatever #But that's really just me bullshitting so NAYWAYS GOODBYE

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sprout-fics · 9 months

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do you think there is tension between the pack and her after her heat stops? I can only imagine she's extremely flustered

Oh Absolutely-

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Five: Interest)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn

Masterlist

You wake on the final day of your heat alone

You fell asleep on Gaz's chest, panting into his neck with fever, and it was only once he scruffed you, kneaded your gland with his thumb and whispered husky little affirmations in your ear that you finally calmed

It doesn't take you long to figure out that you're finally (mostly) back to normal. You're no longer feverish, your head feels clear, and though your body is exhausted, your joints no longer hurt, your head doesn't throb

By some mercy, you aren't devastatingly horny anymore either

Your bed is littered with clothes that aren't yours, and you can tell by the scent alone who they belong to. Your body remembers the press of Ghost and Price inside you, hovering over you in the desert heat as they tried to calm the horrific sickness inside you, flush your system free of toxins

You've never held it against them. They saved your life, even if it was through means out of your control. Yet now your legs clench at the memory, the distant wish that somehow they might do it again.

It's awkward as hell, and by the next day when you're back to duties you do your best to avoid all of them, head ducked and skittering out of sight in a mixture of shame and bashfulness at the desire carving it's way inside you

It's wrong. Their your commanding officers. Your superiors. What they did was simply a favor, making sure you weren't horrifically sick and or dying. Nothing more than that

When Soap calls for you in the mess hall, when Gaz tries to sidle up to you at the firing range, when Ghost postures behind you after drills to ward off other alphas, when Price pulls you aside- you find ways to slink out of sight, face too warm and eyes turned down

You know they notice, you know they're confused, maybe even hurt, but you try to tell yourself it's for the best. You just need to tough it out for a few more weeks before you're back on suppressants again

You can't avoid them forever though, and eventually you're summoned on another mission with them

Price catches you by the arm before you load up, eyes you and forces you to meet his gaze before inquiring softly about you, and you tremble under his scrutiny, insist "I'm fine, captain."

You can see in the tight draw of his lips he doesn't believe you, and you can't blame him. Yet he releases you, strides past you onto the plane

You're in Al-Mazrah, hunting down an ex-pat who defected to AQ, one who holds valuable intel that you can't allow to fall into the wrong hands

It's a simple mission. Capture, do not kill. A hunting expedition

One that turns wrong too quickly

You're clearing a building when you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye. It moves too fast to trace, and before you can aim at it a arm wraps around your chest, a hand moving to your face too late to silence your scream

Your attacker hisses in a language you don't understand, but between the words you can make out a single one that is all too familiar

"Omega."

You freeze, feel dread wash icy through your veins before thrashing violently, trying to reach for the blade tucked in your tac vest

You don't get the chance, because the rush of your heart beat is deafened by a feral, roaring growl that echoes deep in the chest of a familiar form

Ghost.

The alpha rips the man from you, all but throws him against a wall so hard you hear something crack- unsure if it's bone or plaster

You tremble where you stand, shaken, forcing yourself to reach for your blade, when a hand settles gently on yours

"Stay."

The word is growled in a low, gruff order, one that reeks of alpha authority, and you look up to see Price's teeth bared in a sneer, watching as the alpha before he towers over the crumpled form of your attacker

Something inside you withers away gently, and in your shaken state you press into Price's side instinctively, watching your other alpha raise his weapon and fire once into the man's skull

Price's arm wraps around you reflexively, tucking you further into his side protectively

It shouldn't shake you, this. You've had far worse encounters than this one, but the echo of the man's voice in your ears, purring a low, threatening growl resounds endlessly in your thoughts. "Omega."

He was going to hurt you

He never got the chance

Ghost strides over to you, long steps quickly closing the distance, and in any other context you'd retreat from him, his towering posture indicative of a threat

Now, however, you lean up into his hands as they cup the sides of your face, turn it back and forth to look for wounds. One finger grazes across your scent gland with intoxicating, familiar smell, and your knees wobble

"Solid?" Price asks you, and you force yourself to nod in reassurance

"S-solid." You answer despite the waver of your voice, and though both of them nod, they seem reluctant to release their hold on you

There's a distant part of your brain that slinks velvety across your thoughts, and you're unable for a moment to ignore the overwhelming instinct of warmth, safety, protection, shelter, Alpha-

"Easy, omega." Price soothes, and it snaps you back to yourself, realizing your want has somehow bled into your scent. You look to the captain, aghast, but there's only a fond amusement there that makes your heart flutter deep beneath your stomach

The rest of the mission goes smoothly, and you notice Price and Ghost sticking closer to you than usual. It's only once you get back to base, wash their scents from you that you realize

You're already theirs

#poly 141 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #omegaverse tf 141 #omegaverse cod #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse #drabbles #headcanons

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kilibaggins · 17 days

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Physical Affection Prompts

hi all! I just thought I'd make my own list of various physical affection prompts and since no idea is ever original some of these are 100% on other peoples lists but im not using other lists as reference or copying anyone. this list is for my own use and other peoples use and there's no need to credit me (though it's always nice).

reblog to have your followers send you these as prompts !! or just use them for your own writing.

all of these are meant as sfw prompts but some may seem a bit more intimate.

tracing someones face

tucking hair behind their ear

forehead kisses

desperate hugs

crying into their neck/shoulder

reversed little spoon & big spoon (the one who is normally the big spoon is the little spoon and vice versa)

holding their hand under a table

kissing their hand

kissing their collarbone

sitting with legs in their lap

morning cuddles where they're both mostly asleep and they don't want to wake up yet but they want to cuddle

petting their hair

head pats

sitting on the floor in front of them while they sit on the couch and their arms touch their legs.

holding both of their hands

hugs from behind

gently touching their waist to move past them (dont do this to someone you're not dating! dont believe I have to say this.)

grabbing their wrist or hand and turning them around

playing with their hands when nervous

slow dancing

#prompts #otp prompts #touch prompts #physical affection prompts #fluff prompts #send requests #specifically rn im in the nood for steve rogers #or thor odinson or clint barton or bucky barnes but specifically steve

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beesspacedotorg · 3 months

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Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide.

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #the last time i wrote fanfiction and posted it it was very mid langst so lets hope this is better #this is saved in my google docs as “Sorry to God and also Myself” btw

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i-am-church-the-cat · 2 years

Text

pros to this book: engaging and interestingly tangled plot, well-written female empowerment even in the face of very vile circumstances, great world building that i just want to rip apart and analyze

cons to this book: hurriedly written and uninspiring romantic ships, guys who could definitely be friends literally hate each other bc they fell in love with the same girl, i will never know all the answers to my questions

#if you guess the book i will give you a pat on the head #im mostly upset about the ship stuff #bc the author writes platonic relationships so beautifully #and then the romantic relationships are like 'and now they're in love'#bleh #books #you should read this #it's actually good tho

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Dogs

Wonze x Child!Reader

Summary: You meet a different Nala

Your mummies had Narla longer than they had you. You think that's super cool because you're kind of like Narla's bigger little sister. You're very close.

She sleeps in your bed with you and never pulls on the lead when you go out for walks. She helps you adjust to Spain. It's very hot here and there's a lot more sunshine than in Manchester and you're not too sure if you like that.

You're leaning more on the side of not liking it but it's all okay because you have Mum and Mummy and Narla too.

The Barcelona girls are there as well but you're pretty wary of most of them. They talk in Spanish and they're very touchy, lots of head pats and cuddles. Some of them speak bits of English but mostly they just coo over you in a way that the Manchester girls never did.

Narla, though, is your bestest friend and you know Mummy has a picture of you and Narla napping as her homescreen. You would spend all your time with Narla if Mum and Mummy's boss let them bring her to work.

"They're adorable," Frido says as she leans against the doorway, spotting you sitting on the floor in front of the tv with Narla," Have they always been like that?"

"Yeah," Lucy replies fondly," Narla tried to sleep in her crib the first day we brought her home. They've been inseparable since."

"That's so cute," Frido says," She must love dogs."

Keira makes a face. "Not really. I think our Narla is just special."

Narla is definitely special. She squares up to the other dogs at the park when they come up to you and she barks like she's a husky instead of a terrier.

Narla's your hero and your very bestest friend in the whole wide world so you're happy to sit with her on the floor as Mum and Mummy's teammates mill about the new house.

You ignore the sound of the front door opening and closing in favour of pointing out something on the screen to Narla, who thumps her tail against the ground.

She sniffs the air for a moment before moving to stand protectively in front of you, snarling and barking.

You look where she's looking and shriek, immediately moving to stand on the sofa (stepping on Mapi and Ingrid in the process).

Narla barks at the other dog again (whose lead you follow up into the hand of Alexia). You move to make more space between you and this new dog and Ingrid has to catch you before you topple back off the arm of the seat.

The new dog wags its tail happily, uncowed by Narla's barks. Narla growls, low and deep in her throat, before moving to sit protectively in front of you.

"Sorry, Alexia," Mummy says apologetically," I don't know what's gotten into here. She's not usually like that with other dogs."

Alexia just shrugs. "Maybe it is different when it is at her house. Nala will be fine. She won't push." She unclips this new dog's leash and lets it loose.

Somehow, you lean even further back and Ingrid has to adjust her grip on you so you don't fall. She doesn't have to hold you for long though because Mum comes walking past and plucks you into her arms.

Narla whines a little, stomping her feet as she follows you both.

Mum takes you into the kitchen where Mummy, Frido and Alexia are.

"Hi," You chirp in greeting because it's polite and Mummy always reminds you about your manners.

"Hi," Alexia says back as Mummy takes you from Mum and sits you on the countertops.

You open your mouth to let her pop a slice of orange into it, taking another piece out of her hand to drop for Narla.

"She's not meant to eat human food," Mummy reminds you.

"Narla likes it!" You say.

Alexia and Frido laugh and Alexia moves closer to smile at you.

"I have a Nala too," She says and you frown a little.

"No. My Narla."

"Si, this one is your Narla. But I have my own dog and she's called Nala too."

That stumps you for a moment, little brow furrowed in confusion until the little dog from earlier appears.

You shriek again, standing up as if the dog could reach you.

"Sit down!" Mum yells, moving to catch you in case you fall.

"No!" You say, reaching to hide in her neck as the little dog (who you now know is also called Nala) sniffs around, tail wagging as it yips at you.

"Okay, okay," Mum says, bouncing you up and down as your Narla fronts up to Alexia's Nala," It's okay. Ale's Nala is like a little puppy. She can't hurt you."

Her words do little to soothe you so Mummy has to take over, holding you nice and close and coaching you through nice, deep breaths.

Alexia picks up her Nala and keeps a bit of distance.

You lean into Mummy, trying to hide away in her shoulder as you reach your arm down for your Narla, who moves to stand on her hind legs to lick at your fingers.

"Ale's Nala isn't bad," Mummy assures you," Do you want to say hello?"

You shake your head. "No," You whimper," No! Want-Want my Narla!"

"Okay. Okay, let's take a step back." Mummy takes you into the living room and sits you in the armchair.

You pat the space next to you for Narla. She jumps up easily and rests her head on your legs. You run your hands through her fur as you watch warily as the other Nala pads around.

All the adults are keeping a close eye on you just like you keep a close eye on Alexia's Nala.

She doesn't look scary but she's a small dog and you know that small dogs can be yappy sometimes. You don't like yappy dogs. Their barks are too loud and sometimes they scare your Narla when they start barking randomly.

Your Narla is also watching the new Nala but she doesn't growl again so you take this to mean that Alexia's Nala isn't as scary as other dogs.

Nala looks up at you, tail wagging. She doesn't attempt to get up on the chair though and you're happy at that.

Your Narla looks down at the other Nala and then back at you. She settles closer to your body and goes back to staring at the other dog.

"See?" Mum says softly as she sits on the arm of the chair," Alexia's Nala isn't scary."

"Is little," You reply," Is little and small. Don't like small dogs."

"Why don't you like small dogs?"

"Because the small dog at the park chases our Narla when she doesn't want to play."

"Alexia's Nala doesn't do that," Mum says," How about you meet her properly? Here, Alexia will hold her still for you."

Alexia does as Mum says she will and you cautiously approach this new dog.

Her little body is wiggling a lot and that scares you a little so you scamper back into Mummy's legs, who takes your hand and walks you closer again.

"Nice and gentle," Mummy reminds you," Like with our Narla."

She guides your hand over Alexia's Nala's head and you let the dog lick at your fingers.

"See?" Mummy says," She's not scary."

She's right but you don't want to tell her that.

"Your puppy is nice," Is what you say to Alexia instead of Mummy. You wiggle away and go straight to your Narla, who is dutifully waiting for you.

You pick her up. You're only little and Narla's all grown up for a dog so it's a little awkward but she's happy to be carried by you.

You take her all the way back to the armchair, placing her there. You detour briefly to snatch a blanket before returning. You curl up with your head on the arm of the seat and Narla on your chest, wrapping the blanket tight around you both.

"Are you having a little nap?" Mum asks and you nod.

"Naptime for me and Narla."

"Alright, have a good sleep."

You don't answer because you (and Narla) are already halfway to sleep.

#woso x reader #wonze x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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orionremastered · 3 months

Note

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

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catcze · 3 months

Text

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 ### : 」 Modern AU ish !! GN Reader gets drunk at the club !! But Navia and Clorinde stay with you through it tho, because they're your good friends !! This is literally just humor and reader not recognizing Wrio but gushing over your husband so so much !! Reader swears when drunk bc same lmao

Had a vision. No editing. Feast on this while I feast on my Nissin Bulalo cup noodles.

The moment Wriotheseley steps into the club, he immediately spots you. Even over the painful strobing lights, the sea of dancing bodies, he can single you out a mile away— regardless of the fact that you're slumped over the bar, drunk out of your mind.

"Navia, Clorinde," he greets with a wave, hurrying over. His voice has to be almost a yell to be heard over the loud music.

They sit on either barstool beside you, bracketing you between them. When he approaches, Clorinde hands him your phone, and he knows who he has to thank for the 'come pick your bae up' text. The moment he's close enough, he's already looking you over, making sure you're alright.

"Sweetheart," Wriothesley tries to rouse you, but you just mumble and splay out further on the bar. Your hand knocks into a mostly-emptied glass of what he can only assume was tonight's poison of choice.

"How many—"

"More than five," Navia tells him, grinning sheepishly, just as Clorinde says, "Nine."

Your husband shakes his head fondly, sighing, and turns back to you. "Sweetheart," he tries again, voice a bit louder. He places a heavy hand on your waist, coaxing you up. "Let's g—"

But at the touch, your eyes —still hazy and unfocused on account of the nine drinks you've had— shoot open, and you whirl on him in your seat. If not for the hold he still keeps on your hip, you may have just toppled over. There's a look of unbridled, drunken rage on your face, more comical than actually terrifying.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you hiss, slurring, as you wrench his hand off of you and fling it away with such contempt that he has to stifle a laugh. "Keep your hands off of the masterpieces, bucko."

Not even giving him a moment to breathe, you shove your left hand in his face, vehemently pointing at the ring that sits on your fourth finger. "I! Am! Married! If I tell my husband that you're out here getting handsy, he's gonna come and kick your ass sooo hard. He's gonna rock your shit, you trick ass bitch, if i don't do it myself!"

Wriothesley shouldn't find this funny— he shouldn't. But Navia and Clorinde and fighting smiles behind their palms themselves, and he can't help the grin that breaks across his face.

"Oh? Is your husband that strong?" He can't help but ask, and you scoff.

"Is he that strong— you wanna find out for yourself? Huh? Wriothesley could— could—" you hiccup, and he has to fight the urge to coo. "He could knock you out with just a flick of his fingers, you know!"

"And is your Wriothesley more handsome than me?"

You turn your nose up at him, scowling. Once, twice, you try to cross your arms in contempt as you drunkenly look him up and down.

"You're alright," you begrudge, "but my Wriothesley is the— the most handsomest man in the world! The fucking prettiest! No one holds a candle to my husband and his broad shoulders and his thick thighs and his... and his adorable smile."

Wriothesley has to bite his lip to control his grin. Navia is fighting for her life to stifle her giggles, and Clorinde hides her amused smile behind a cough.

It's like that loosened your tongue though, and you continue on, oblivious to the embarrassment you'd face the next morning.

"And he— he'll be very upset when he finds out that you're here, hitting on someone who is very happily married to one of the best men on this side of the fucking galaxy, so— so you can fuck off!"

He really, really tries his best to not laugh.

You huff, patting down your pockets and grumbling incoherently about your phone, not even questioning it when Wriothesley hands it back to you himself. It takes only a second of you furiously tapping your screen before his own phone buzzes in his pants.

[Sweetheart ♡]

babe pookie pick e ip plrase im drunk and i wanna go homd snd yhere's this assholr hitting o me love yoy [location attached]

As soon as the texts go out though, you yawn and the energy leaves you in one fell swoop. Wriothesley manages to catch you before you face plant back on the bar and break your nose, maneuvering you to lean into his chest. The fight escaping you, you nuzzle into his black button up, rubbing your face against him like a big cat.

"Mmm. I know that cologne." Blearily, you look up and make eye contact with those pretty, pretty blue eyes, and your face immediately lights up in the most delighted grin. "Wrio!" you gasp, arms coming to wrap around his waist and pull him towards you. You're still drunk, still pretty out of it, but it melts his heart how overjoyed you are to see him.

"Hi sweetheart," he says fondly, running a hand through your hair. Happily, you lean into his touch. "Have a fun time with Navia and Clorinde?"

"Mhm. Missed you though." Then, your eyes pop open and you sit up, looking around furiously as if you're looking for someone. When you don't find this person, you lean in to whisper conspiratorially in his ear— "There was this guy who tried to make the moves on me, you know! But I told him that I'm super duper married and with the bestest husband ever— if you wanna double team him, I'm sure the guy's around here somewhere."

But your husband just chuckles, pulling you back into his embrace. Smoothly, Wriothesley has you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he can easily pick you up and into his arms.

"You two need a ride home?" He asks the two, but they shake their heads.

"Appreciated, but we only split a drink between us," Clorinde says, already standing up alongside Navia. "We'll be fine."

"Get home safe, you two!" The blonde says, waving you off, and that's that.

Wriothesley easily maneuvers the two of you out of the club, you having already fallen asleep on his shoulder. He can hear your soft breaths in his ear and feel the way you cling to him even in your sleep. No doubt you'd have a raging hangover tomorrow, but that's okay— because you'll have him to take care of you, too.

Bonus!!

You wake up to hands down the worst fucking headache in your whole life. Your temple hurts so hard that you swear your head's gonna crack open like an egg. Groaning, you pull the covers over your head and roll over, blotting out the mid-day sunlight as best as you can.

There's a chuckle from the other side of the bed, then weight moving across the sheets— then your husband's face appears in front of you, under the blankets too.

"So, darling sweetheart of mine" he starts, voice soft as to not aggravate your headache, and you're grateful. "What were you saying about my broad shoulders and my thick thighs?"

You're suddenly not as grateful.

Promptly, you kick him out of your blanket cave, and he goes with a laugh. He leaves you grumbling on the bed, cursing out all the drinks you had last night and swearing to never ever ever drink again.

Wriothesley grins, shutting the curtains of your bedroom as he ambles out the door, dead set on getting you water, advil, and something to eat.

Maybe by the end of the day, you'd add 'endlessly doting' to the list.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #cw alcohol #wriothesley #genshin impact

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