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queen-rainy-love · 1 year

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New Year's Concert part 7

Let's go, speedrunning!

*After B.A.D. 4's performance, HellHound and ZZ Skull ran as quickly as they could back to the dressing room.*

HellHound: Hurry up! We got to go!

ZZ Skull: Yeah yeah! I know! Get there before-

*Before ZZ Skull could finish that sentence, both of them ran into Parfait and Pastry right next to Parfait's dressing door. They froze, unsure of what to do.*

Parfait: OMG! ZZ Skull and HellHound!! It's nice to meet you!

Pastry: Greetings. Your performance was very good.

HellHound: T-thank you.

Parfait: And congrats on your winter tour! I can't wait to go to one of your shows!

ZZ Skull: T-that's great t-that you like it! We would just be missing a few Cookies for the next two months, like our girlfriends.

Pastry: You two have girlfriends?

*Both members froze, realizing what they said.*

HellHound: Y-yes. Light of our dark hearts. We would love to take them with us. But...

Pastry: Do they not know about this tour?

HellHound: They found out today and we were about to see what their reactions are.

Parfait: I'm sure they would be fine as long as you explain why!

Pastry: I agree. I believe they would be understanding about this. *looks at HellHound and ZZ Skull closely.* Are your partners inside your dressing room?

ZZ Skull: Not...really...They're...in front of us...

Parfait:...huh?

Pastry: Pardon?

HellHound: Just take a good look at us. And really think about it.

*Parfait and Pastry looked at them for a few seconds as the gears start to turn. HellHound and ZZ Skull looked at each before pushing the two female Cookies into Parfait's dressing room. Once all four were in the room and HellHound closed the door, ZZ Skull unloaded.*

ZZ Skull: Iknowthisistoomuchbutwereallywantedtotellyouguysaboutthisbutweweretoldtokeepthisawayfromyouandwedon'twantthatanymoreanditdoesn'thelpthatMadeleinefoundourabouroursecretandtoldusthatwehadtotellyouboththatit'susLicoriceandRedVelvet!

*ZZ Skull took multiple breaths as Parfait and Pastry let the words sink in. While Parfait still allowed the words to sink in, Pastry looked at the boys.*

Pastry: You two...lied to us?

HellHound: Yes. We know we shouldn't. But Pomegranate really wanted us to stay quiet. That and we didn't want you to have to deal with any B.A.D. 4 fans.

ZZ Skull: And we will make it up to you two. We promise!

*Pastry looked over at Parfait, who was still processing the words. She looked back at the boys.*

Pastry: We're not mad. But if you do this again, I will personally shoot an arrow at each of you.

HellHound: Yeah...That's fair. How about you Parfait?

*Parfait stood still for a bit before falling back. ZZ Skull was quick enough to catch her.*

HellHound: ...I guess she's handling it well...

Pastry: I'm sure she'll be fine. But I'm sure Licorice is going to have a long few days. *looks at HellHound* Now...What do we do next?

HellHound: Next? You two can come with us for our tour. I don't think we can handle two months without you two.

Pastry: How about Sky? I don't think she'll handle traveling well.

HellHound: My siblings won't mind taking care of Sky since I'll be taking Chiffon with me.

Parfait: *finally regains composure* What about Black Garlic? I can't leave her for more than two days.

ZZ Skull: And I'm sure that if she came, it would not end well.

Pastry: I'm sure Avocado would not mind watching her for two months.

HellHound: Maybe not her. Maybe Almond and Latte.

Parfait: I'll figure it out later. For now...let's enjoy the rest of the night before the new year!

ZZ Skull: Can we change into our usual clothes?

Pastry: Wouldn't someone notice Red Velvet and Licorice leaving B.A.D. 4's dressing room? Not to mention, leaving Parfait's dressing room.

HellHound:...Let's stay here instead. We'll change our clothes later.

*The rest of the night was spent in Parfait's dressing room. Parfait and ZZ Skull were talking about future plans while HellHound and Pastry cuddled the night away.*

#cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #red velvet cookie #licorice cookie #hellhound #zz skull #parfait cookie #pastry cookie #red velvet x pastry #pastry x red velvet #licorice x parfait #parfait x licorice

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gendy-endy · 11 months

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I really really like how these have turned out

#cookierun #loz #Ocarina of Time #majora's mask #Legend of Zelda #pastry cookie #devil cookie #spirte edit #this is an art tag #I really really like how skull kid turned out

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cultlifecollective-blog · 7 months

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I HEARD YOU’RE VEGAN

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thelaisydazy · 4 months

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Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Routine

It’s 5AM. Bloody five in the goddamn morning. The sun isn’t up and you’re barely awake as you unlock the bakery door, but a hulking shape startles you awake as you notice the man and German Shepherd standing outside. The man stares down at you as the dog wags its tail. He’s blond, almost freakishly so with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. You can’t see the rest of his face thanks to the black privacy mask with the lower portion of a skull painted on it. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans tucked into sturdy boots and a black hoodie.

“G’morning,” he says, tilting his head as he watches you wipe a hand down your tired face. He doesn’t even apologize for scaring you.

You hold the door open for him and his dog. He’s a regular from the firehouse just down the street. You'd think you would have gotten used to him lurking around the front door, yet every morning you go through the same thing.

“We have danishes and turnovers today,” you say, leading him over towards the freshly stocked counter. The bakery smelled of fresh bread and sugary pastries, it made your stomach grumble, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten yet. Before you can slip behind the counter, his dog nudges your elbow. You turned with a smile, rubbing both your hands on his ears before walking behind the counter. “What’ll it be then?”

“Danish,” the firefighter said, his gaze never leaving you. You reached into the case and pulled out a pair of danishes, one cherry and one cheese. You never bothered asking him what flavors he preferred, he never seemed to care what he had. You also grabbed a couple of dog treats from a jar near the register.

He reached for his wallet but you swatted his hand away when he tried to hand you a few dollars. Your boss insisted that keeping the local first responders fed was more important than profit. You walked around the counter again, watching as the firefighter met you by a little table near the front window. You place the pastries down, slipping a treat to the dog before sitting across from him.

You both sit quietly while you eat the cheese danish. He doesn’t touch his, never does. He always just sits with you while you eat and takes his breakfast to go. It’s odd, but he never complains, and surely if he had a problem with it he’d say something.

“You know..” you start. “I know Riley’s name.” You gesture to the dog, who was currently resting his head in your lap. “But you still haven’t told me your’s.”

“Simon.” His voice is blunt, that same flat tone he always used.

“Simon..” you say back. “I like it.”

You have no idea what hearing you say his name does to him. It sets his heart racing. His mouth waters. He swears, he’d die just to hear you say it again.

---

The brain rot is so real. I just wanna eat him up.

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #firefighter!simon riley #firefighter!ghost #141 firefighters

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emmyrosee · 1 year

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[4:56 pm]

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Immediately, your eyes bug out at the sound of your husband coming home and bursting through the door. Your hands that had been playing with the teddy bear on the bed stills, and you freeze for a moment.

Your daughter, Kamiko, also now having been surprised at the noise, looks up at you to gauge your reaction and dictate how she should feel, eyes like Katsuki’s blinking up at you. You gnaw your lip as there’s another yell, one of your name, and you’re quick to look at your daughter and hold a finger to your lips to keep her quiet, though giggling softly to ease her. She giggles back, and you shush her softly.

“YOUVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”

Okay. Maybe spending an unspeakable amount on pastries was fair to make him rage. But in your defense, you never get to go into that bakery!

Katsuki knows the absolute fortune you tend to shell out for their pastries, and he tries his damn hardest to keep you out of there. He knows they’re good, but he tells you that ‘that’s not the point.’

So, naturally, when he went to work and you and Kamiko made your way to run errands, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon rolls were just too enticing to ignore. You’d made your way into the quiet bakery and grabbed things that would surely be appreciated by Katsuki.

Apparently, however, he saw the damage on his credit card before your kindness can show.

Whups.

You’re quick to lay down on your side- back facing the door and body curled around Kamiko- still holding a finger to your lips, and when she gives you a nod of understanding, you close your eyes just in time for angry feet to storm down the hallway to your room. You hear the door fly open, and you can feel the crimson eyes of your husband boring into the back of your skull.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you-“

“Dadda,” your two year old whispers, and you hear her ease out a soft ‘shhhh.’ “Mumma sleepin’.”

“Is she?” He snarls, unconvinced. “And she let you stay awake? Just because?”

“Was sleepin’ too, dadda. Woke me up…”

Where she learned to be such a good liar, you’ll never know.

You hear Katsuki let out an impatient exhale through his nose, clearly weighing his options as your breathing continues its rhythmic pace, mimicking sleep. Kamiko’s tiny hand pats your cheek affectionately. “Dadda, shhhh…”

Katsuki sighs dramatically, and you are surprised to feel the soft peck against your temple, massive, calloused hand smoothing down your back. “We will discuss this later,” he snarls in your ear. “Get some rest, Kami. I’m gonna start dinner, okay?”

“Okay dadda!” She chirps, and when you hear his feet pad away and the door close, your eyes fly open and a smile spreads wide over your face.

“You’re such a little troublemaker!” You growl playfully, taking the little girl into your arms and kissing her all over. She squeals at your affections and gently shoves your face away. “Ohhh just like your mommy! And your uncle Denki! He’s gonna be so-“

“I KNEW YOU WERENT ASLEEP!”

The door slams back open, and a disgruntled Katsuki immediately flies back in, gathering you and Kamiko in each arm. You two shriek, but the smiles on your face absolutely plastered, unbudging from your faces as he manhandles you- Kamiko, with a raspberry on her cheek back onto the bed, and you, over his shoulder mercilessly.

“YOU SPENT ¥13000 IN THAT STUPID BAKERY?! AND YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER TO LIE TO ME?!” He’s trying as hard as he can to keep the smirk off his face, though you hear it breaking through in his shouts.

Your fists bang against his back, nails digging in, but he’s unrelenting, and you whine out when he makes a fake move to drop you. “I-I wanted coffee cake!” You titter, screwing your eyes shut. “Kami! Help me!”

“Go, dadda!”

“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!” You bark in betrayal.

“The winning side,” he snickers, turning on his feet to carry you out of the room. “If you help me punish mumma, I won’t punish you so bad, Kami.”

“Yeah!”

“NO!”

Was it worth having one of the cupcakes getting smushed into your face? Not really (though him kissing you through the frosting was definitely worth something!)

Was it worth the memory you’d only added to the vault as a family?

God, yes.

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stsgluver · 10 months

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synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!!#gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles

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nvuy · 2 months

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an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

#sunday x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #hsr x reader #sunday x you #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )#✦ ( after hours. )

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dmitriene · 3 months

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THOUGHTS ABOUT GUNSLINGER SIMON MEETING YOU AS HE PASS BY.

cw: fluff, comfort, sugesstive, kind of established relationship, groping, teasing, playful banters, kissing, dirty talk, marking, lot of intimacy, boner, pet names, brief mentions of female and male anatomy, could be posessive behavior, hints on sex, simon is filthy. pairing: cowboy simon ghost riley x fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

thinking about gunslinger!simon — he meets you at the store, riding through town on a powerful black stallion to cross the road, and maybe buy a few things, if the sharp gaze of his dark bottomless eyes hadn't caught on your silhouette in a small grocery store, well, seems like he would definitely linger a little longer there, spent a night, even.

you've gone out to buy some small grocery shopping and maybe treat yourself to some pastries, but all your plans go down the drain when the wooden door of the store opens with a bell ringing above it and a cunning, smug bright red skull shaped mask walks in, carrying the identity of its owner, Ghost, whom you know as Simon.

— «ah, see who the horse has brought — eek!» you're in a hurry to notice sharply, but you don't have time to anticipate how quickly he'll cross the line from the door to you, letting you only feel the hurried touch of rough leather gloves over the curve of your waist, clad in the fabric of your dress, before he reaches out and squeezes your rounded ass, ripping out a high squeak out between your lips which he swallows hastily.

he turns you around to pin your back against the shelves of canned food and other goods, blocking the view of surprised eyes of another folks towards both of you, as he casually lifts his mask to his nose to slot his dry, tobacco scented lips to yours, licking inside your warm mouth with fervor of hungry mutt, intertwining his warm tongue with yours for just a fleeting moment before letting go of you.

simon pulls away from your lips just slightly, letting your breath blend together and his teeth pass against your lower lip in a playful bite, as you curl your dainty hand against his dark vest, shooting him a glare as your another hand grip a shopping basket stronger, your tongue slips between puffy lips to lick them, while your gaze focus on simon's sly squint of eyes and his wide grin that he hides behind his mask, and you spat stricktly — “and what this was about? that's how you say hello now?„

simon is amused by your play of the strict, spoiled girl, cause he sees how your eyes flutter shyly during a kiss before closing, and how you sigh into his mouth very quietly, only for him to hear, so he allows you to behave in this way, and in return he demands nothing more than a submission, even when he hoists you by the waist and carries to the exit, forcing you to hurriedly put the basket on the wooden shelf of the store and grab his biceps, pulling, demanding to designate his actions with at least a word, and he chuckles hoarsely — “jus' taking what's mine, can'' i, dovie?„

that makes you huff, «taking what's his» he says, in the meantime preventing you from shopping and doing whatever he pleases to you in public, you have long since lost all shame in his company, so that the words and looks of the townspeople do not mean much to you, but you allow yourself to let him know how displeased you are with his actions, frowning and pouting your lips, adding meekly — “and don't let me shop properly so i'll have what to eat, huh? very kind of you, Sir Ghost„

he visibly rolls his eyes, resembling boiled caramel in the sunset light, before glancing at your frowning brows and the way you pout your swollen from his kiss lips, before his leather covered gloved fingers wrap around your chin and turn your face a little more in his direction, so that simon can press the fabric of his mask into your ear.

— “we can pretty stay here, darling, if you won' me to bend you agains' shop's woll and fuck you for everyone to see?„

of course, the question is nothing more than rhetorical, because you won't agree to this, but it's worth it to see how your eyes widen and round like beads, and your skin definitely flushes, you can't utter a word, your lips parting silly like one of a fish, while simon takes advantage of this moment to put you on his horse before untie it from the rope, and climb in after you, sitting comfortably behind your back.

a position that allows him to grab your hips to pull you closer to him, making the softness of your ass brush against tenting hardness in his trousers, which pokes in the swell of your ass that is definitely not his revolver.

pleased, simon grabs the reins and tugs them, lightly tapping the sides of his black stallion with his feet, as his chin suddenly touches the curve of your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

— “i think i need to leave another one in more visible place, wha' do you think, dove?„ drawls his smoky voice, when he pulls the sleeve of your dress slightly with his chin, looking at the devil's mark, his bite, on your shoulders skin for anyone to see, if it weren't for the clothes behind which it can be hidden, not that he likes it, simon himself would have liked if you had worn it openly.

— “s — shush it„ you mutter, looking at him out of the corner of your vision with a little seriousness, adjusting the sleeve of your dress with slightly trembling fingers before continuing to stare ahead, while his broad muscular chest behind you quiver in a hoarse laugh, as he quietly, meant just for you, adds — “course, darling, i'll save this for later, yeah? sure you would be more talkative in bed, hun„

and he may be right, but it will be for his ears only.

— “when i would be balls deep in this little cunt of yours, birdy„

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queen-rainy-love · 1 year

Text

New Year Concert part 3

*The scene picks up backstage where Parfait and Pastry were hanging out in Parfait's dressing room. Well...more like Pastry watching Parfait freak out while the pop star was getting ready.*

Parfait: OMG OMG OMG OMG!!! I'm not ready!! I'm not ready for my performance! Ahhh!

Pastry: You still have time to get ready. You are wearing your performing clothes and your contacts. Don't you have thirty minutes until your turn?

Parfait: Not really! I need to be close to the stage when it's my turn! Thirty minutes is only enough to do vocal practice! Agh! I'm so late!! My toppings are not ready!

Pastry: Hold on. *goes over to Parfait and got her to sit in front of the vanity. She starts putting toppings on Parfait's hair* The first performer, Rock Cookie I think-

Parfait: I think you mean Rockstar Cookie.

Pastry:-is starting and each performer has ten minutes on stage. And you have three performers before you. Thirty minutes and you just have to get the last of your toppings on you.

Parfait: But I don't have time!

Pastry: Are you sure?

*Parfait was about to say something when she noticed her hair was already done.*

Parfait: OMG! My hair looks amazing! How did you get this done in two minutes?

Pastry: Growing up, I was taught to get ready in minutes for morning prayers. *A quick memory of the Order flashed in her mind. A small town appears*

Parfait: Pastry...*notices Pastry's face and grabs her hands* Are you okay? Did I remind you of something bad? Do you need a minute?

Pastry: *tilts head* Hmm? Oh! No, I'm fine. Just a small memory is all. Thank you for checking on me. *a small smile appears* You still need to do your vocal training, correct?

Parfait: I do. But only if you're okay right now.

Pastry: I am. Please go ahead.

*Parfait smiled and started loosing her vocal cords. It was quickly followed with her singing scales. Pastry hummed a bit, trying not to distract the pop star. However, Parfait stopped.*

Pastry: *stops humming* Is everything okay?

Parfait: Just wondering what Licorice is doing right now.

Pastry: I'm sure he's fine. He's with other Cookies like Red Velvet.

Parfait: I know. I just wish he didn't have this last minute quest to go on.

Pastry: I'm sure he'll be watching the broadcast when it's your turn. *Parfait nodded but still had a frown on her face. Pastry puts a hand on her shoulder* Hey. I understand that feeling too. I wish Red Velvet was here too. But this was a mission they couldn't ignore for long. But they did say that they would be back as soon as they finish.

Parfait: *smiles* You're right. I just...wanted that New Year's kiss.

Pastry: New Year's kiss?

Parfait: It's when you share a kiss on midnight to celebrate the new year with your partner.

Pastry: My. It would be nice to have that with Red Velvet.

Parfait: Yeah, same with Lico. But I guess for now, *pulls out her phone* a cute selfie should be enough.

*Before Pastry could say anything, Parfait pulled Pastry closed and angled the camera toward them. Pastry smiled shyly while Parfait smiled widely. The picture was taken and Parfait quickly sent it to Licorice and Red Velvet. Not one minute later, both girls heard two loud thuds on the wall next to them.*

Pastry: What on Earthbread was that?

Parfait: It sounded like it was coming from the room B.A.D. 4 is in.

*Meanwhile, in the next room, HellHound and ZZ Skull were leaning on the wall with looks of frustration and sadness.*

ZZ Skull: *tears falling down his face* This isn't fair...I should be in there with her! I should be in there with my Parfait!! WAH!

HellHound: My Pastry is wearing that new dress my mother gave her. She looks beautiful in it! I should be by her side! Giving her affection! ARGH!!!!

Manager Scarlet: Would you two stop? We have a show to get ready for! You perform after Parfait. You need to get ready.

T.N.T.: Yeah. We only have a few minutes! Get your tough Cookie act!

HellHound: Easy for you to say! You don't have a lover that you're hiding a secret! We can't even see them for a new year's kiss!

ZZ Skull: That would have been a great start to the new year!!

Manager Scarlet: Are they seriously going to keep doing this?

Affogato: *fixing up Mushy P.'s hat* You know the answer to that. Let the two go enjoy their New Year's Eve with their girlfriends. As soon as the performance is done, let them get dressed and let go find their girls. Maybe even let them know about our secret.

HellHound: Really?! Can we do that!?

ZZ Skull: That's a perfect plan!!

Manager Scarlet: Absolutely not!

Affogato: It's either let them see their lovers before tonight ends or hear this for months. The choice is yours.

*Scarlet groaned before looking over HellHound and ZZ Skull. Both Cookies had cake hound eyes. She stared at them for three seconds before groaning again.*

Manager Scarlet: Fine!! But you can't tell them about being in B.A.D. 4. Not unless you want them to come too.

#cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #red velvet cookie #licorice cookie #parfait cookie #pastry cookie #licorice cookie x parfait cookie #licorice x parfait #parfait x licorice #pastry x red velvet #red velvet x pastry #b.a.d. 4 #zz skull #hellhound #t.n.t #affogato cookie #pomegranate cookie

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moralesmilesanhour · 1 year

Text

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2.5

summary: you bump into Miles at the bodega. whoops.

wc: 900+

warnings: implied food insecurity, wasted sandwich </3

prev next

…Or so you thought.

Standing right in front of you in the crowded bodega ordering a beef patty was none other than Mr. Morales himself, drowning in a huge black puffer jacket. As soon as he finished, he stood off to the side, eyes glued to the floor and shifting from one foot to the other.

“What you want, miss?” The man at the counter broke you out of your reverie, looking impatient.

“Sorry, just a BLT, please,” you called out over the din of music and loud conversation. The man nodded, yelling out your order to two other men standing over a hot stove beside him.

You moved to the side, near the snack aisle where Miles was standing. His eyes seemed to remain on the ground, so you sneak glances at the side of his face, starting from his ears. They were pierced, but currently barren. You move up to his cheek, where a stray lash has fallen. The boy's lashes were just long enough to brush it. They fluttered as his pupil darted to the side, and you realized that you were making eye contact.

"Whoah, can I get my face back?"

Miles had caught you just before your eyes could flicker away. He had that same ‘the sky is blue’ look that he gave you on the first day you were seated together. You quickly turned away without a word, opting to examine the snacks lining the rack behind you.

“No ‘hello’?”

You spun around, bag of Takis in-hand.

“What?”

“You just gon’ stare into my skull and not even say ‘hello’?”

You scoffed at the boy’s sudden interest in etiquette.

“Fine, hi.”

One of the cooks called out both of your orders, sliding them across the counter wrapped in aluminum foil as the two of you went up to the front.

“Bye.”

Miles grabbed his food first before weaving through the crowd towards the exit.

That is, until you try to squeeze out of the door before him. Your face plants into the plush material of his jacket before you stumble onto the cracked sidewalk outside, your poor sandwich open on the ground before you could even take a bite.

Groaning, you hear a few ‘Ohhh’s behind you as you squat to pick the two halves up to throw them out. This was supposed to be your dinner.

Miles watches you toss them into a nearby trash can, and makes a decision.

“Yo,” he waved you over. His face looked like it was holding onto a laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

“Now is really not the time, Morales.”

“So I guess you not tryna eat, then?”

You paused, and looked at the boy skeptically. He didn’t seem like the type to be above making you eat things off the floor. As if you had communicated with him telepathically, Miles shrugs his shoulders and nods.

“That’s fair,” he says to himself.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise when he makes long strides over to you instead. He carefully opens up the aluminum to reveal the golden pastry inside, and you watch him carefully split it in half with his fingers before offering the piece. You look up at Miles, then the patty, then back up at Miles. His expression softened into a knowing look.

“I’m not gonna ask for no money back, if that’s what’s on your mind.”

Finally, you take it. It was either this, or Takis and sleep for dinner.

“Thanks.”

The sky had taken on a deep blue shade, and worry crept onto your features as the street lights began to flicker on.

“I gotta walk home,” you said flatly. “See you tomorrow–”

“By yourself?”

Even as it got dark, you could make out the deep frown on Miles’ face.

“It’s not that far, relax.”

“How far?”

Your tongue pushed against the inside of your cheek before you muttered, “Three blocks…”

Miles stuck his hands in his pockets. “Look, ion like yo’ ass, but I can’t have you walking around here by yourself in the dark. Lemme walk you two blocks,” he put two fingers for emphasis, “at least.”

You tilted your head at him, but agreed.

“Slow down,” you complained as you struggled to keep up with the long-legged boy. The both of you had been walking for barely twenty minutes, but your feet were already starting to hurt from having to jog up to him.

“Walk faster,” Miles laughed.

Silence settled in between you as the streets got quieter, save for the bustling of traffic in the distance.

“Is it true what people say about you?” you ask, suddenly breaking it.

“Be more specific.”

“Like, are you in a gang? You don’t gotta tell me which. And how the hell you flunk outta school on purpose? Do you really do graffiti-”

“First of all, I’m not in no fuckin’ gang,” Miles had stopped walking abruptly. “You see any tats on me?”

“You’re wearing a coat.”

You hear Miles suck his teeth, and snicker.

“Well, I don’t have one. My momma would put me in the dirt if I did,”

He resumed his speed-walking, and you break into another light jog to stay next to him. “The other two are true, though.”

“Why?” you ask, a little out of breath.

“Do you know how to use complete sentences?”

“Why’d you flunk on purpose? Graffiti, I can understand. That, I can't.”

Miles was silent for a few moments, and you considered retracting the question before he finally replied.

“Visions…wasn’t really for me.”

You want to press further, piece together how a kid with a strict mother and a knack for advanced calculus could just…decide that school ‘wasn’t for him’. But the way he mumbled his answer told you he wouldn’t divulge any more, and your house was just up ahead. You’d walked all three blocks.

“This is me,” you say as you slow your pace. “Thanks again.”

“Yup, g’night,” Miles calls behind him, already strolling in the opposite direction.

Whew, okay! I hope y’all enjoy this one even though it’s technically not a full chapter. Now I’ll ACTUALLY give myself a week to work on the next one lmao. As always, feel free to leave any reactions, questions, or comments in replies/tags/my asks! thx for reading <3

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

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sfznyxio · 11 days

Text

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ❞

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. following the success of the recruitment process and their first concert, this odd combination of a band becomes busy these days. thus, they hired a manager to keep track of their schedules. and to an extent, deal with their shenanigans that may or may not feature on the news.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, aventurine, jingliu, kafka, robin

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. gn!reader. celebrity au, musician au, modern au. comedy, fluff. 1.1k words. inspired by the concert animated commercial: “before the show begins”. canon elements (jingliu - powers; aventurine - cake cats; robin - halovian features). reader’s the straight man in this chaos. cameos from yanqing (argenti, jingliu), stelle (argenti, jingliu, kafka) and caelus (aventurine, robin). brief mentions of ruan mei (aventurine) and sunday (robin). word vomit for the most part.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. happy pride month, bitches. what a good way to start off the month watching the haikyuu movie, seeing volleyball boys stare at each other intensely and metaphorically stab their friends in the neck. all i can say is that the animation was insane. speaking of insane, the hsr concert was released to celebrate the game’s first anniversary. “sway to the cosmos” is my favorite out of the setlist, and i even made it as my train jam. imagine seeing it live though… i die. i had to look up what instrument jingliu plays and i strongly believe it’s an erhu based on how it looks. i kinda don’t like this; i have no idea what i wrote. it’s my worst attempt at being funny lol.

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.

< drummer argenti preaches ‘scripture of beauty’ to fans >

“hey! what’s the ‘scripture’ supposed to be? actually, who is idrila? look, you can’t spout names like that and not expect a scandal to not happen.” argenti seems to be in the zone while dancing with his fans at the park, so he most likely didn’t hear what you just said. you glance at stelle and yanqing to get him to snap out of it, but they’re completely drained, on the floor from being dragged into the spotlight earlier.

“my lovely manager! since you’re here, you must be interested in being a follower?” not at the very slightest, but the name argenti throws out and about drives news outlets and his fans up on the walls. that may put the drummer at risk of being a subject of misunderstandings and fanwars, which is why you’re here in the first place. you can feel the stares of his audience burning into your skull, so you extend your hand to “express” your interest.

“wonderful. now, let us dance under the name of beauty!” throughout it all, everything blurs out. not even five minutes in, you’re exhausted out of your mind, unsure if argenti has given you useful information about his charade. in the end, you gather more questions than answers, and practically leave the drummer to handle the potential messy aftermath. he’s an enigma; anyone can tell you he’s the eighth wonder of the world, and you’ll believe it.

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄.

< guitarist aventurine adopts scientist’s ‘sweet’ creations >

“rise and shine. your cats won’t stop bothering me until you wake up, by the way.” all the feline pastry lifeforms on your head, shoulder, and feet mew in agreement. caelus somehow has collaborated with the scientist who created them, making some that resemble his friends, one of which is aventurine. the guitarist adopts his lookalike for fun at first, and now his house is their haven, which makes his issue of organization worse.

“hey, pretty boy! you better wake up, or i’ll sit on your face and suffocate you!” the synesthesia beacon in your phone picks up a translation from under aventurine’s arms. there’s a cake cat that resembles you, but do you actually sound like that when you’re upset? never mind that; the most important question here is why does he have a cake cat version of you here? well, he’s already behind schedule, so out of curiosity, you try out its suggestion.

“okay, okay. i’m up.” the cat cake version of yourself huffs at him taking forever to get ready, but seems proud of making its threat happen with your help. aventurine sees five pairs of eyes staring at him, with one in particular full of disappointment for being inconsiderate. he promises to keep track next time, but you aren’t sure he’ll truly follow through if he’s convinced to expand his cake cat kingdom.

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐔.

< erhu player jingliu unleashes ice blades at passersby >

“for the last time, the people who watched you perform gave you strales because they appreciate your talent. this is the fourth time this week of scaring them with your sword.” you note a careful distance between the passerby and jingliu, who resumes playing her erhu like it’s none of her business. stelle has learned it the hard way so luckily she has you to deal with the erhu player. the first victim of her powers slips out from a tree to wish you luck with a thumbs up.

“ah, has that young man come yet? i would like to have a spar with him.” jingliu’s referring to yanqing, another swordsman. he loves competition, so this entire street, or the entire city even, is screwed into becoming an icy wonderland. telling her that he’s not here, she returns to performing. you notice a brilliant idea coming into fruition as soon as she stops her bow halfway, and it already doesn’t sound good.

“manager, why don’t you spar with me? let’s see who will fall first.” you immediately refuse without a second thought. jingliu would win anyway as she’s more skilled with the sword and you have no powers, so it isn’t a fair fight to begin with. you’re just relieved that she didn’t unleash her icy blades for the fifth time, and that you make it alive throughout the confrontation.

𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀.

< violinist kafka sends many clothes stores bankrupt >

“listen… i get that you look great in everything and all, but do you think this is way too much?” you gesture to the cart overflowing with concert outfits. kafka hums in contemplation as she examines her next purchase in the mirror, then nods in approval which seals the deal.

“oh, you think so too? alright then, i’ll have stelle handle all payments as usual.” stelle averts her gaze away to avoid your temper, pretending as if she didn’t enable the violinist’s unlimited shopping spree. you can sense the employees fearing for their livelihoods that are at stake, and you can feel like yours will be at the state soon if this keeps up. scolding kafka to unload everything in the cart, the wave of relief in the staff washes away when she reveals a special trick up her sleeve.

“what about your wardrobe? surely you can’t wear the same exact thing everyday, don’t you think?” kafka jabs into one of your weaknesses: the lack of variety in your closet. it’s important to appear presentable as the band manager, but your uniformity gives you not a lot of room to try out different combinations. the only hope of this store is gone, and so is the store itself as soon as the credit card is swiped.

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍.

< singer robin disappears once again from photoshoot >

“when your brother finds out you snuck out again, he will kill me in the most painful way possible.” whenever you bring that man up, always in the worst case scenario, robin responds with a smile as reassurance that he won’t hurt you when she’s around. but it’s more like she won’t get in trouble, leaving you to shoulder the blame.

“don’t worry! caelus will take care of everything. ah, i hope i wasn’t too late.” the self-proclaimed master of stalling strikes again. knowing that man, robin’s confidence in caelus is astounding. because sooner or later, he’ll find out that she’s at a toy store with you to buy the limited edition of a clockie figurine. the singer will be happy, and you’ll end up dead in a ditch probably.

“oh no, photographers are here. can you cover for me?” robin tucks her wings beside her face so they can fit under her mask. while she browses through the aisles, you direct the photoshoot team outside, hopefully far enough from the store to remain off radar from her brother’s watch. you pray that caelus comes back in one piece as well as yourself. the cost of making a halovian’s day brighter, especially if she’s a famous singer and has a control freak of a sibling, is quite risky.

#♪ .fics #honkai: star rail #honkai: star rail x reader #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #jingliu x reader #kafka x reader #robin x reader #honkai: star rail fluff #hsr fluff

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beanhardy · 7 months

Text

Soft bf!Peeta x reader

Headcannons :

Just Peeta being a horny softboi heheheheh

(This is set after the first Hunger Games before Catching Fire)

Whole load of fluff ❤️ and smut ❤️‍🔥

• Peeta is quite shy around you at the beginning of the relationship. After Katniss pretended to be in love with him to win over the hearts of the sponsors and the game, Peeta found it hard to believe that you actually had feelings for him.

• A month of spending all your time together and a lot of reassurance Peeta finally trusts you.

• He is absolutely smitten with you, we all know this man will put you before anyone including himself.

• Now that he has a bit of time to himself before the next reaping and has to be a mentor, he spends it baking and painting with you.

• He loves making your favourite pastries and breads, most of the time waking up early in the morning for you to wake up to his warm goodies.

• He smells like honey and cinnamon and you’ll always find a bit of flour on his clothes or face/hair.

• Like I said, this man is WHIPPED if he sees you walking around the house in just underwear and one of his shirts he goes haywire. (He may or may not pick you up over his shoulder like a sexy sack of flour and carry you to bed)

• He adores your body, considering the amount of baked glutinous goods you consume because of him you’re bound to gain some weight. As insecure as you may be about not fitting into your clothes anymore he fucking loves it!

• To him you’re like an extra soft, warm and squishy pillow whenever you guys are cuddling. He loves snuggling into your belly and rubbing your thighs.

*NSFW AHEAD*

•Speaking of thighs🤩 This man will do anything for you to squish his head between your thighs. (We all know he’s a bit of a subby boy🤭)

• He will BEG you to sit on his face. You’re afraid of suffocating him or crushing his skull but this man is a trooper. He will pull your hips down so you put all your weight onto his head.

• Say it with me ladies !🗣️🤚

‼️PEETA IS A MUNCH‼️ He will chow down on your Kitty like he is back in the arena starving to death.

• He will always put your needs and wants before him. Him cumming before you is basically unheard of. Which means he is practically bursting when it’s his turn.

• Peeta is very vocal when it comes to sex. He will moan groan and whimper and he won’t apologise, although he did turn beet red the first time you made him moan like that and you never let him live that down😈.

• When it comes to sex itself he is very gentle, he prefers to make love to you rather than just railing you, BUT, if you rile him up too much, tease him for days on end without any release he will go feral on you (with your explicit consent).

• As much as he loves getting carried away in your warmth he makes sure that you’re ok with everything he does to you before it happens. He won’t touch you if he doesn’t have verbal consent. It can get a bit tedious at times but at the end of the day it is endearing and you he does it because never wants to hurt you.

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Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading till the end ❤️ let me know what else you’d like me to write about .

#peeta x reader #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #peeta smut

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