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luveline · 11 months

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𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. fighting, injury, blood

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily.

"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless."

The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny.

Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly.

You do it to torture him, he's sure.

"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says.

"Then one of the others will catch me."

"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?"

"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that."

"Could you just do as I asked you to?"

"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything."

"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously."

You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.

Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.

Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction.

"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap."

Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited.

"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks.

You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest.

"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks.

"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you.

"Qué maravilla," he mutters.

"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?"

"I'm over here?"

Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening.

"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing."

Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice.

He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today.

You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit.

"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man.

"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit."

"Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?"

It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.

It's his fault for letting you go.

"Prepare for extraction," he says.

"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."

"Y/N," he warns.

You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort.

His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind.

He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward.

It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind.

The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye.

The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home.

"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.

He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded."

You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control.

—

You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said.

"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?"

You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections.

It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.

They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards.

The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately.

"Go away," he says.

She beams at him. "Okay."

"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.

You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one.

"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask.

"I know. I told you to retreat."

"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends."

"Ah, because you need more of those."

You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know."

Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse.

You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?"

"I'm off-duty."

"I just never pictured you in sneakers."

"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side.

You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?"

Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face.

"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched."

"I'm not benched?" you ask.

"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work."

You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment.

"But it's my fault."

"What?" you ask, startled.

"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak."

"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture."

He flinches at the drug's name.

You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844.

"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…"

Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open.

"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again."

You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps.

He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces.

"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur.

"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it.

"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day."

"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly.

"You make my life difficult, too," you say.

You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.

He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once.

"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great."

"Isn't it?" you ask happily.

He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!

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bratphilia · 6 months

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grasp (w. afton x reader)

request: "I don’t really have a coherent story (just some thots) but i’d kill for some sort of smuttyyy ficlet that has the reader who is very short as in 4 foot 10 and has petite features (just like me 😵‍💫) being picked up and slung over Matthew Lillard!William Afton’s shoulder 🥴🥴 Include reader being scared and trying to wriggle free??? (due to her seeing or knowing something she shouldn’t have about Raglan) and some name-calling like ‘little one’, ‘good girl’ & ‘atta girl’ 🤤 - 🧸"

note: hi nonniebear!! i'm sorry if this fic is a little rushed but i tried to stay true to what you requested! hope you enjoy and feel free to keep sending in more ideas :)

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: bondage, praise kink, fingering, squirting, begging

fuck. you're really in for it now.

this yellowish, decaying rabbit stalks towards you, and there are four, sentient and bloodthirsty animatronics behind you.

you're stuck.

even worse, the rabbit came from the entrance, so if you were to try to make your escape that way there was a likelihood of you running into his knife.

"please," you find yourself pleading. "please don't kill me."

the rabbit laughs menacingly and bends down to your level. "how about this? i'll give you a head start."

without any further questions you bolt through the maze of halls and towards the office. you crouch down in front of the vent the rabbit was referring to and unscrew the bolts barricading it. thank god you're small enough to fit in the vents. this might actually work.

then you hear unmistakeable, thumping footsteps coming towards you.

it only hurries your actions. your heart rate rapidly increases. the screws are so aged with rust that it's hard to—

the door opens with a loud thud. you scream at the noise, and again when you're being lifted off the ground. it's the yellow rabbit.

it slings you over its shoulder with unmatched strength. you wail incoherent words and pleas as you pound the back of the suit with balled fists.

"help me!" you scream out to no one. "somebody help!"

the rabbit wordlessly carries you down the hall, to one of the locked doors you dared not to venture into during your shifts. it carried you down a couple stairs and then set you on a dentist-office-style chair.

at this point tears are rolling down your face. eyes are shut in fear of looking your captor in the eyes. uncontrollable sobs escape your mouth, praying that these aren't your final moments. then the rabbit wraps both hands (paws?) around your wrists and holds them to the arm handles so that restraints can bolt around them.

"oh, save it," he says, clearly annoyed with your crying. "i've heard it all before, you don't deserve to die, and all that."

your eyes shoot open. the rabbit's voice no longer sounds robotic and you realize you actually recognize it.

in a very dramatic fashion, it's steve raglan. your career counsellor, a.k.a the man who got you this job in the first place.

he almost looks ridiculous in the rabbit suit, which admittedly doesn't add much to his already sizeable frame, but you can't find the humor in the situation in which you could be seconds away from dying in.

"why?" you find yourself asking, suddenly more curious than hysteric. "why give me this job if you were just going to kill me in the end?"

"because you got a little too close to the truth, and for some reason, those brats up there were unable to take care of the job themselves," he snarls resentfully. he must be referencing the animatronics. it makes sense now— the kids in the drawings with the yellow rabbit on the wall.

"it was you. you killed those kids."

steve gives you a horrible smile. one that almost makes you weak, with that dimple you recognize from many conversations in his office. "you finally figured it out."

he walks behind you, shuffling around in the suit, and you crane your neck around to see him taking it off. he's wearing a white tee and dark purple slacks. he's not particularly muscular, but not thin either. it's a build specific to middle aged men. you hate to admit it, but your face flushes when you notice how large his hands are.

he catches you looking at him and smiles, cocking his head curiously. "see something you like, little night guard?" instantly you whip your head back around. your head is at a moral war with itself, with you being disappointed in yourself that you were actually checking out a child serial killer.

but steve doesn't leave it alone. once he abandons the suit, he swiftly strides over you. he places both hands on your restraints, caging you in. you shrink into yourself.

"i think," he says lowly, "i might have a different use for you, little one. one that we can both enjoy."

you swallow, not saying anything. steve reaches a hand up to slide down your face then cup your jaw. his hands are cold to the touch and it sends shivers down your spine.

you find your voice. "don't touch me."

"don't touch you? are you sure?" he says cockily and you can only glare at him in response.

"what if i just..." he trails off, sliding the hands on his face down your neck, your chest, abdomen, and eventually your core. he presses his hand there hard, making you jolt upwards and whimper. "so you don't want me to touch you, is what i'm hearing?"

fuck. this undeniably hot serial killer has you at his disposal and you can't help but feel turned on. if you're going to die, and your chances really aren't looking good for you, maybe you should just...

"please," you murmur, closing your legs so they trap his hand there.

"please, what?"

you swallow. "please fuck me."

"'atta girl." he grins from ear to ear. "y'know, all that begging you did earlier really did a number on me, but i must say i love this change of heart."

steve starts to undo the buttons of your slacks and begins to pull them down, leaving you bare in your underwear. it's at this point you realize how wet you are, and you try to relieve the tension in your core by squeezing your thighs together but he grabs your legs and presses them to your stomach. you're just so malleable to him.

he tugs off your panties and discards them mindlessly. "look at that," he marvels at your bare skin, "so pretty, little one."

you squirm against the restraints a little. at this point the anticipation will kill you faster than he will. you wish he would just touch you already, but you had to admit all his praises were only adding to your arousal.

steve decides to sit a little further down the chair and wordlessly plunges a finger inside your pussy. he goes deliberately slow, clearly gaging your reaction. "fuck," you mutter, and it takes all your strength to not buck your hips into his movements.

"you need this, don't you, sweet girl?" he muses, stopping the thrusting of his fingers, but still keeping them inside. "tell me."

"please, please, please..." tears coat your lashes from all the teasing. "'need it so bad."

he gives you a kind smile, one you haven't seen since you were back in his office. "good girls get what they ask for. "

steve slides in a second finger and begins to pump faster. it's an improvement but you find yourself needing more. you buck your hips up hoping he would get the message and he simply laughs lowly as he adds a third finger into the mix.

his pace gets progressively faster over time to your delight. the noises coming from your center is absolutely obscene. you can feel your juices dripping down onto the seat.

"ah — ah!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing. "i'm coming — please, slow down—"

you squeeze your eyes shut. all the sudden the chair is abnormally wetter than you would have expected and— oh.

your face burns bright red. "i-i'm sorry..."

he's shocked, mouth agape and eyes slightly widened. then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "don't you dare apologize, little one, let's try that again."

#william afton #steve raglan #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf x reader

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 2 months

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I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

-----

Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

------

I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

#jamie replies #sleeplessdreamer14 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #i dunno why i'm taggin it this way #hazbin hotel x reader

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whiskersz · 2 months

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heyy! I’d love to request something for Hazbin Hotel if there’s still space in your inbox! I would like a ficlet of Angel Dust x gn! reader in which he comes back to the hotel after an awful day with Val and just breaks down when he sees them. Then reader can take care of him, give him a hug and prepare a warm bath and comfy clothes for him because he must feel uncomfortable wearing his “work clothes” after such a bad day… I just want to hold him and wipe his smudged makeup off and tell him that everything will be okay 🫂🫂

obv feel free to ignore this if it doesn’t inspire you!

Hey there! This is...kinda long, hope that's okay!! (1k words or so) Also had a mildly irritating day today so writing this was therapeutic, even though I started this yesterday. Anyhow, hope you enjoy :3

Angel x Gn!Reader - Solace

First came the thunder, then the blaring sound of a car door being slammed close. It was a particularly gloomy evening in Hell, heavy drops of rain battered against the walls of the Hazbin Hotel, which seemed uncharacteristically quiet besides the occasional cheery tune sang by Niffty, who was still dealing with cleaning.

Your head shot up at the sound of the tires of the limousine screeching outside, and you quickly threw your phone aside as you guessed you would be dealing with more important matters tonight, seeing as your boyfriend Angel had returned later than usual.

That was never a good sign.

Picking up a random umbrella from the stand placed near the entrance of the Hotel, you swiftly opened the door after pressing the button on the little remote designed to unlock the gate outside.

The air was frigid, yet you still made your way towards Angel, who seemed to be trudging himself more than walking. As you shielded him from the rain, his baggy eyes met yours, and he immediately threw himself in your arms, wetting your clothes with the rain water he was soaked in.

“Shit, they didn’t even give you an umbrella?” you hissed, walking him inside; “What happened today Angel?”

You didn’t think he could’ve furrowed his eyebrows more. Tears prickled his eyes as he answered you;

“Let’s not...talk about it.”

The lack of pet names in his sentence and wiliness in his voice concerned you greatly. Even Husk refrained from offering him a drink, focusing on the glass he was rinsing instead.

Angel didn’t even bother saying hello to the rest of the residents of the Hotel, opting to stay by your side as you led him to his room. Once you finally closed the door and you could have a moment of privacy, he let a sob escape his mouth, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his figure.

Despite being taller than you he still hid his head in the crook of your neck, holding onto you for dear life as you gently drew circles on his back with one hand and massaged his scalp with the other. You could feel that his hair was a mess, wet and tangled, yet you still placed kisses on the top of his head and whispered sweet nothings in the hope that he’d calm down.

He tried letting himself fall onto his bed, but you steadied him;

“Baby,” you murmured, “you’re soaked. How about a bath first, hm?”

His clothes were also not the most appropriate for cuddling and resting, you noticed.

He gave you a weak nod and reluctantly separated his body from yours, letting you hold his hand and walk with him to his private bathroom.

You had done this before; your hand reached for the soft pink chair he had placed behind the door and dragged it near his bathtub, then for the various products Angel usually used when he took a bath or a shower. Shampoo and conditioner for his hair, his comb, body wash, his sponge and finally his fancy bathrobe. You neatly placed everything within arm’s reach and turned on the faucet, turning your gaze back to Angel.

“I think it’s only fair if I take care of you tonight. If you’re okay with it, of course?” you asked him with a soft smile. He returned it.

“Of course. It’s just...”

You didn’t fully get it at first, but then he gestured to his body with one set of his arms, holding himself with the other, and you finally got what he was trying to tell you.

“I told you so many times love. I’m not disgusted by you, I’m disgusted by...what he does to you.” Your mind dared wandering to Valentino, and you asked yourself what he could’ve done to your partner that night. You decided not to dwell on it for the time being.

Angel let out a sigh, starting to undress. You had seen each other’s bodies many times before, but you still turned around out of respect and focused on your nails until he was done and inside the bathtub, which had been filled with warm water in the meantime.

Your gaze fell on a little box placed on the edge of the tub; opening it, you fished out a spider web shaped bath bomb; in the corner of your eye you could see Angel’s expression brightening a little, and a smile naturally grew on your face.

“I think you deserve some fun.” You stated, plopping it into the water, which immediately started fizzing around it.

Angel relaxed, leaning his back against the wall behind him, and slid slightly deeper into the water as you sat down on the chair you had dragged nearby earlier. Silence temporarily filled the bathroom as you both observed the bath bomb shrink, tinting the water a bright pink with sparkles.

Soon afterwards you found yourself going through your usual bad day’s routine with Angel; gently wiping off the smeared makeup on his face, massaging the shampoo on his scalp – you were the only one allowed to touch his hair like this – and talking about your own day to him as he washed his body to distract him from the bad thoughts he got just from the sight of the rope burns on his wrists. You had to bite back a vexed insult directed at Valentino when your eyes fell on those.

You decided to prepare some comfortable clothes for him as he dried his hair; settling on a cute but comfortable pink sweatshirt and shorts of the same color, you neatly folded them on his bed and sat beside them, noticing that someone had dropped your phone off while you were busy bathing with Angel. Most likely Husk, you thought; you mindlessly scrolled on your socials until you heard the bathroom’s door open.

Angel emerged from it, fluffy hair held back from his forehead by a headband and his body kept warm by his bathrobe.

“Oh, you’re done. Here’s your clothes sweetheart,” you handed them to him, and he thanked you with a kiss. Your attention returned on your phone for a short while as he was dressing himself up.

You heard him sigh at some point though; you curiously looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“Would it be too much sugar...to ask for cuddles tonight?” he asked with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

Throwing your phone aside you shook your head, and opened your arms as an invitation. He swiftly took it and climbed into bed, positioning himself in your lap. Your arms draped across the small of his back and he breathed out contently, nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

You both listened to the rain outside incessantly falling down, and you softly leaned backwards until your back touched the mattress. As Angel’s breaths steadied and he began quietly snoring you looked down at him, your heart filled with warmth.

I’ve got you now, you thought, breathing in his scent; he can’t hurt you as long as you’re with me.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust

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thebirdsandthebats · 5 months

Text

TIMBER FICLET

Bernard washes Tim’s hair for him.

(A little angst/fluff and hurt/comfort, mostly just these two being in love and domestic)

—————————————————

“Ow.”

The complaint is quiet. There’s no real fire behind Tim’s voice, more a sound made for the sake of breaking the silence than anything else. He doesn’t even wince as gentle fingers poke at the cut on his temple. He’s sitting in a dining chair, moved in front of the kitchen sink so Bernard can stand in front of him and clean up his cuts. Out of the two of them, it’s Bernard who hisses at the touch, looking a little queasy.

He still has it in him to steel Tim with an unimpressed look. “That didn’t hurt, so don’t pretend it did.”

Tim huffs out a laugh as the hand tilting his chin up moves to squeeze his cheeks. “Why do you look like you’re gonna be sick, then?” He asks, words muffled by his squished lips, and Bernard shakes his head. He releases Tim’s face in favor of picking up the damp rag and dabbing again at the cut. It stings, but not bad. Bernard has already gotten all the grit out, and his dabbing seems to just be a distracted motion at this point.

He chews his bottom lip. “Because it looks worse than it is. I don’t like seeing you hurt at all, but I really don’t like knowing they got close enough to do this,” he sighs. Tim slumps in his seat. He reaches out and takes Bernard’s free hand in a silent apology. Their fingers fit together easily, a familiar comfort to both of them. Bernard drops the rag on the counter and pauses to look Tim over again. Distractedly, he reaches up to play with a strand of Tim’s bangs.

He smiles. “You keep your hair so neat now. I remember when there was a bottle of gel in it every day.” He fingers a strand of black hair, soft and freshly trimmed. Nothing like when they met. Tim cringes at the memory. Yeah, he’d had a big thing for spiking his hair back then. Nowadays he prefers to keep it short and out of the way, even if Stephanie had lamented the loss of the longer hair he’d settled into for a while.

Tim leans into the touch. “And yet I still get all kinds of gross stuff in it every patrol,” he teases. Bernard’s fingers still. His eyes light up the way they always do when he comes to a realization that he likes.

He leans forward, further into Tim’s space, and beams at him brighter than the sun. “Can I wash it for you?”

“I—” Tim leans back and blinks rapidly. His nose scrunches as the question processes. “You want to wash my hair?” He asks. It’s an odd request. Nobody has washed Tim’s hair for him since he was a very small child. Even through his worst injuries where he needed help getting to the shower, Tim has managed to avoid it because hair just wasn’t a priority. He reaches up to feel his own hair, fingers brushing Bernard’s as he rakes them through his bangs. Hm. Not so overwhelmingly gross that Bernard would make washing it a personal mission.

Tim’s head falls to the side in a bewildered tilt. “Why?”

Bernard shrugs. “I like taking care of you.” He speaks simply. “I think it would make both of us feel better.”

It’s not something Tim would have imagined allowing someone to do. But when Bernard asks, he can’t find any reason to say no.

Tim doesn’t even leave the kitchen. They’d never both fit in his tiny shower. Within a couple minutes of Bernard grabbing their supplies, Tim finds himself leaning his head backwards over the sink’s edge, the back of his neck cushioned by the towel draped around him. He hears the water running for a bit to heat up, and he watches Bernard’s face as the blonde tests the temperature.

He chews the inside of his cheek when he concentrates. Always has. Cute, Tim thinks.

The detachable sink head is pulled down. “Ready?” Bernard asks gently, and when Tim lifts his eyes to Bernard’s own, he’s struck dumb by the sheer amount of adoration softening his expression.

Bernard…really cares about him. Enough to dote on him, to cook for him, to wash his hair for him, and what has Tim done to deserve that? He’s so troubled by this thought that he doesn’t answer immediately. It takes Bernard tapping his forehead with a finger to chase those thoughts away.

His expression is…difficult to put a name to. “Still with me, love?” He whispers. Tim nods. He clears his throat.

“I’m here. Sorry.” He shakes his head a little. “Ready when you are.”

Bernard smiles. “I’d give anything to spend a day in your mind.”

Tim would never want him to experience that.

Warm water showers him as Bernard moves the stream to his head, and Tim sighs at the feeling. The water thoroughly soaks his hair within a few moments when Bernard pushes his bangs away from his face and into the spray. It’s the perfect temperature, and the sink head’s pressure feels nice from so close.

It isn’t long before the spray is moved, and Tim hears the pop of a shampoo bottle’s lid. He glances over, and Bernard is letting a decent amount of Tim’s expensive shampoo pool in his palm. He sets the bottle aside and moves back in, and Tim hums as he feels his boyfriend’s fingers start to work the shampoo into his hair. He works first to build a lather but Tim’s hair is shorter these days, so it only takes a moment before he’s running his fingers from root to ends, coating every strand in soap. He blinks down at Tim when he notices him watching his face.

“Baby, relax. You don’t have to keep your eyes open,” Bernard insists. Tim hadn’t realized how intense he probably looked while staring. He laughs a little, and though he doesn’t always like the vulnerability of closing his eyes when he relaxes, it’s Bernard. He trusts him. His eyes fall closed as short nails scratch at his scalp lightly. The scent of his shampoo floats in the air like steam from the water’s heat. It’s a scent that he loves. He’s used the same shampoo for most of his life. It was the same brand and scent his mother used. It smells like home, the same way that Alfred’s laundry detergent and Stephanie’s body wash and Bernard’s hoodies do.

Tim sighs again, but this time, the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. He smiles a little. The scratches against his scalp and the slight tug of his hair as it’s washed feels…really nice.

He isn’t sure how long Bernard shampoos his hair before he finally pulls the warm spray of water back overhead to rinse the suds away. It was definitely longer than his hair length warranted. There’s something so domestic about this moment, and when he drowsily blinks his eyes open to check in on his boyfriend, the blonde’s expression looks just as content as he feels.

“Conditioner next,” Bernard says quietly, like he’s hesitant to break the silence that had fallen over them. “Doing okay?”

Tim nods sleepily. “Mhm,” he confirms. It was probably for the better that he’d be finishing soon, because once Tim let himself melt into the feeling, he knew he could easily fall asleep under Bernard’s affectionate ministrations. The conditioner goes on with just as much care as the shampoo. Tim actually leans his head back into the feeling as one hand scratches at the nape of his neck, the other one running through his bangs almost leisurely. Caressing his hair, almost like he’s being pet. The mental comparison doesn’t make him bristle the way he usually might. Nothing about the gesture feels condescending or insincere.

Soft lips brush his forehead. Butterflies stir in Tim’s gut at the unexpected affection, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Love you,” he murmurs. Bernard’s hands still for just a moment. Then, the lips are back again, this time kissing his cheek. The tip of his nose. His chin, just below his lips. When he finally kisses Tim’s lips, they get lost in it for a moment as Tim stretches his neck upwards to meet him.

Tim’s gripping the sleeve of Bernard’s sweater by the time he pulls away. “I love you, too.” He says like he’s desperate for Tim to believe him.

Tim does.

They sink into comfortable quiet again as Bernard rinses his hair. He’s thorough, making sure all of the conditioner has been washed out before he finally turns off the tap. The room suddenly seems much quieter now that the constant shower of water has stopped. Bernard tugs the towel around Tim’s neck up to tousle his hair. He rubs firmly enough that it jostles his head around, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he does it.

Tim sticks his tongue out, rising to the bait but not truly annoyed. In fact, he’s relieved to see Bernard teasing him again. The tense worry from earlier had faded into something far sweeter.

Bernard finishes with the towel and drops it unceremoniously on Tim’s head. “There. Do you feel any better?” He asks. The smile can be heard in his voice, even while Tim is busy tossing the towel aside.

“Yeah. I think I do feel a bit better.” It’s an understatement. Tim feels lighter than he has in ages. Bernard looks relieved to hear it.

“Me too,” he confesses. Tim stands and stretches, lifting his arms high until his back pops. What he really wants after all that is to crawl into bed, preferably with Bernard, and sleep until his body feels fully rested. It’s not a luxury he often gets.

Tonight he feels like indulging. “Thank you, Berns. Really.”

“Tim, it’s no problem. I wanted to—oh,” Bernard perks up as Tim starts towards his bedroom, rather than his laptop where he’d usually spend hours after patrol finishing reports. Tim’s heart stutters pleasantly when he hears the footsteps immediately begin following him. “You’re sleeping already? Did I break you?”

Tim shakes his head at the last question. “Big spoon or little spoon?” He glances backwards as he pulls back the comforter. Bernard looks thrilled.

“Big. I wanna hold you,” he says, painfully earnest. And Tim still isn’t great with earnest, but god, Bernard makes it look so easy. So he lets himself be held. He lets himself drift off, feeling secure with strong arms squeezing tightly around his middle. He lets himself sleep in far later than he usually does.

And every now and then, after a particularly close call on patrol, he lets Bernard wash his hair for him.

#this was an exorcise in present tense and it kicked my ass #this fic has HANDS #anyway they’re gay and they make me sick /pos #why do they act like that. i cant stand them #batfamily #dc comics #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #fic #fanfic #ficlet

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quin-ns · 11 months

Note

hey ! may i request some fluff with ethan landry where he thinks she’s asleep so he whispers i love you to her but she was actually awake? (can either be established relationship or not) you can decide how she reacts :))

im so glad i found your blog because you write for many of the things that i like and it honestly felt like i hit jackpot seeing your masterlist. feel free to turn down this request/change it up !!hope u are having a good day/night <3

aw well I’m happy you found me! 🫶

writing this as a quick drabble/ficlet bc I like the idea but can’t think of a whole fic lol- enjoy!

Whispers (Ethan Landry x Reader)

You weren’t going to the party at first, but all of your friends were going and you didn’t wanna feel left out.

Getting drunk wasn’t exactly the plan either. However, you were already getting your ass kicked by classes and you wanted to let loose.

Your friends encouraged you as they did the same, all of you keeping an eye on each other.

Except, you got a bit too far ahead and ended up having to leave your friends Tara and Mindy behind on the dance floor (aka, the frat house living room floor). You ended up on a couch nearby and closed your eyes, trying to zone out and not focus on the headache-inducing music.

Did it have to be so loud?

You felt someone sit down next to you and you heard a familiar voice ask you a question.

“You alright?”

You didn’t have to look to know it was your friend Ethan. You could tell his voice anywhere, the two of you were pretty close. You and Ethan liked a lot of the same stuff and it was easy to talk to him about pretty much anything.

You met him a while ago and coincidentally, his roommate was the brother to your friend Mindy. You all ended up hanging out in a group after realizing that.

“A little too drunk,” you admitted, your head lolling to the side. You opened yours eyes and found him watching you curiously. “And very tired.”

“If you’re tired I can walk you back to your place.”

You made a noise of disapproval.

“It’s so far off campus, I’d rather just sleep here.”

Sinking into the couch felt like a really good idea.

“My dorm isn’t that far,” Ethan suggested with a shy smile. “Chad won’t care and it’s a weekend so you don’t gotta worry about class.”

You did take him up on that offer.

“You’re so sweet,” you told him as the two of you entered his apartment. You laughed to yourself, feeling quite lightheaded. “And cute.”

Ethan smiled at that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, but it’s a secret, so shhh,” you told him. You had a pretty huge crush on him, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps in order to maintain your friendship. But your words were coming out before you could stop them.

God, you were tired.

“Well, you’re pretty cute too,” Ethan said, then quickly changed topics when you didn’t respond right away. “You can take my bed, I’ll crash in the chair.”

He pointed towards a sad little beat up recliner.

You snorted. “No way, we can share.”

Ethan and Chad didn’t have bunk beds, so it was easy to kick off your shoes and climb into his bed. Another day you might’ve been more graceful, but it looked so comfortable and you couldn’t resist. Ethan did the same, not even changing into pajamas.

The two of you laid side by side and you tried to bite back a smile at the thought of being in bed with Ethan.

You rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed your eyes. You were insanely exhausted and drunk, and really, really wanted to sleep.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” you mumbled to him. “And thanks for this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responded. There was a moment of silence where you thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Goodnight.”

You started to drift off to sleep, getting comfortable. Maybe ten minutes passed and you should’ve been asleep, but you weren’t.

“Are you awake?” Ethan asked softly.

You were right on the edge of falling asleep finally and you knew if you started talking, that would never happen. Whatever he had to say, you two could talk about it tomorrow.

“I guess you are asleep… and now I’m just talking to myself.” Ethan laughed a little and you tried not to smile. “That’s okay, you need sleep. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you trust me and that I can be here for you. I like being your friend, and I—I like you, y’know?”

It was quiet for a long moment. Your breathing remained steady and you thought maybe he’d closed his eyes and drifted off.

Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm over your body.

“I really like you, actually. Like I lot… as more than just a friend,” Ethan continued in a whisper. You could feel his heart racing against your back and you tried to not let on that you were awake. “Maybe even love you, but that’s crazy, right? We’re not even dating and I think I’m in love with you…

You really wanted to open your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. He’d just poured his heart out, it didn’t seem like the right move to surprise him.

“I’ll tell you for real someday, if I can ever get the courage to ask you out.”

You hoped that was a promise that Ethan could keep. You liked him too—a lot—and hopefully that day he’d ask you out would come soon. You really wanted to see how things would go because you had a feeling that you could be in love him too.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #quin-ns writing #request #ficlet #asks

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sky-kiss · 5 months

Note

Can cambions… get sick? Asking solely for the image of concerned Tav tending to a runny-nosed Raphael.🫢

A/n: I don't...think that they can? But let's say yes for the context of a mini-ficlet.

_________

Raphael x Tav (GN): Sick Day

_________

For the first time in centuries, Raphael is set low. The cambion scowls, wings curling about him in a vain attempt to preserve his plummeting body heat. Cold sweat licks at his skin.

He's dying.

That's what it feels like, at least.

Raphael holds himself with an offended dignity, fighting not to shiver. Baldur's Gate is always so damnably warm, but an unseasonable chill has manifested today. It feels closer to Icewind Dale. The wind cuts through the finely tailored material of his doublet, threatens to freeze the sweat, and…

Tav shifts beside him, hand blessedly warm in the crook of his elbow. His little mouse arches a brow, stopping their stroll through the garden. For once, it's a social call rather than business, a break in the monotonous rigors of conquering the Hells. Tav's manor in the Gate is blessedly silent, a chance to wear his true skin behind the safety of high walls.

They tip their head to the side, crooking a finger. He has to stoop to do as they request. Tav touches the back of their hand to his forehead, then to his cheek. His pet frowns, "Raphael, you're running a touch warm."

"Infernal blood will do that, pet."

They scowl, reaching into their pocket and withdrawing a handkerchief. All of Raphael's finer sensibilities tell him to pull away. He will not be coddled or babied. He is not a child. He is a prince of the Hells, Conqueror, and Lord of Avernus. He is…

Tav dabs at his nose; their free hand cups his cheek, holding his face steady as they resume their inspections. Satisfied, they release him. He's baffled by the expression on their face: warm, something soft and inexplicable, all the edges filed off their typically hard stare.

"Come inside. We can sit by the fire. You've been running yourself ragged, Raphael."

"I am not…"

"Please. For my benefit." Tav laughs. "I'm cold, dear."

He is clever enough to recognize the lie, desperate enough to ignore it. "All things for your benefit, little mouse. Of course."

#raphael x tav #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #asks #my writing #do you want cavities?#because this is how you get cavities

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dystopicjumpsuit · 3 days

Note

Cuddles and Snuggles?! 👀

Sign me up lol

I have a request if you feel inspired by it 👀

6. trying to crawl under their shirt with either Wrecker or Kix.

Because I would very much like to hide under their shirts than deal with the outside lol

If you think of someone that fits the prompt better, then do that instead! (Or you can entirely disregard this ofc lol)

😘💜💜💜

A/N: Moonie! I had this whole ficlet planned out, and then we chatted about this wonderful Wrecker art by @pinkiemme, and it took over my entire brain. So thank you both for inspiring me. 🖤♥️

Pairing: Wrecker x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 573

Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, established relationship shenanigans, very slightly suggestive dialogue, mild language

Summary: Wrecker is just so warm.

Suggested Listening (English translation here):

This fic smells like: Work From Home by Memoire Archives (cappuccino, caramel, biscotti)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

You rolled over to find an empty bed. You groped blindly through the blankets, but Wrecker was nowhere to be found, and based on how cold the sheets were, he’d been gone a while. Grinding the palms of your hands into your eyes, you sat up, searching blearily for him. There was no sign of him, so you stumbled out of bed to form a rescue party of one. It wasn’t long before you saw the soft blue glow of his datapad as he curled up on the sofa in the darkness.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak.

He looked up and smiled. “What’re you doin’ up?”

“I got cold,” you replied. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll make us some caf,” you said.

“Already got some moogan tea,” he replied, holding up a steaming mug.

Screw the caf, then, you decided, immediately crossing the room to plop down next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, wrapped your arms around his waist, and draped your legs across his thigh, tucking your feet against his calf.

“You really are cold,” Wrecker said with a laugh as he felt your frigid toes.

“Warm me up?” you pleaded, giving him the softest, most pathetic tooka eyes you could muster at such an early hour.

“C’mere, then,” he replied, adjusting your position so he could hold you a little closer while still staring over your head at his datapad.

“Reading something good?” you asked.

He kissed the top of your head. “Candy Crush.”

You laughed quietly and snuggled closer, teasing your chilled fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. He flinched away involuntarily, but when you pulled back, he let out a little grumble.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You just surprised me. Come back.”

You didn’t bother to put up even a token resistance, instead diving your icy hands enthusiastically back under his shirt.

“Gods, you’re so warm!” you murmured, burrowing closer and sliding your hands further and further under his shirt, until you were practically wearing it with him.

“I do that on purpose so you’ll cuddle up to me,” he replied, holding back a laugh. “Comfy down there?”

“I’m working on it,” you replied. “You’re a really good heat source.”

“And you’re a really good icicle.” He set down his mug and wrapped his free arm around you. “You tryin’ to climb all the way inside my shirt?”

“Our shirt,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric. “Besides, I’m not trying. I’m succeeding.”

“Well, maybe I should just carry you back to our bed so you can have a real blanket.”

“No, this is fine,” you replied from inside his—ahem—your shirt. “It’s cozy. I live here now.”

You felt the deep rumble of his chuckle against your cheek as you nuzzled your face against his chest. “You gonna pay rent?”

“Nah, I’m sleeping with the landlord. He’d never evict me.”

"You got that right." He shifted, and you heard the soft clatter of his datapad as he set it on the floor, then both of his arms closed around you. With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted you up and rolled the both of you over so you were tucked securely between him and the back of the sofa, wrapped in his embrace. He yawned loudly, and you knew he’d doze off within minutes. "Now stop squirmin’ and go back to sleep.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!

More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff; Tech cuddles; more Tech cuddles

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory

#wrecker #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #bad batch fic #star wars #gn reader #sw tbb fanfic #bad batch #dystopicjumpsuit writes #flashing gif

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sebastianwallows · 1 year

Text

Never Too Busy

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary - Request for "Every time I see your username, I read it as Sebastianswallows. Perhaps you could do a little ficlet including the phrases: “You suck!” “Nah, I swallow.” I prefer Ominis over Sebastian, but feel free to write whoever you wish."

Word Count - 347

Warnings - 18+ suggestive more than anything

You sat with Ominis and Sebastian in the common room. There was a paper due for potions and it was very clear that was Sebastian's least favorite part of the class.

"I just don't understand how this is necessary. If we can brew everything successfully, that should be enough," he whined.

You and Ominis worked diligently, ignoring the other boy's protests.

"How do you think you'll pass your NEWTs if you can't put everything on paper?" You quipped, exasperated with the fact that he wouldn't just shut up and work.

"Look, I said I would do this since you were both going to be busy with it, not that I would like it."

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, Ominis was hiding his amusement while he ran his wand across the book he was studying.

You nudged him with your leg, "Come on, back me up here. You need Sebastian needs to be working on this twice as hard as we do."

He shrugged, shifting his eyes around as he sat his book down.

"Sebastian, just do as the lady asks. You know even if she wasn't here I would still be making you do this."

Sebastian shot daggers at you, huffing loudly.

"This is so unfair, you're both teaming up on me now. Y/N, you suck."

Ominis sat up straight in his seat, making a display out of straightening his tie, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"Sebastian, I'll have you know they swallow."

"Ominis!"

You slapped him in the arm while Sebastian looked at you with his mouth agape. He threw his hands up as he stood up.

"Alright, that's enough of this for me. You two have fun," he smirked, "but maybe not too much fun, okay Y/N? He needs to focus on this project to right?"

"Sebastian, please fuck off."

You put your face in your hands, attempting to rub the embarrassment off your face. Ominis just sat next to you with a grin he couldn't control.

"You are just as bad as him."

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt smut

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forlorn-crows · 8 months

Note

Crow, my dear, if it’s not too much to ask…may I make a ficlet request? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not feeling it, but I’m partway through a new drawing and could use some scene setting inspiration. Mountain, kissing Dew’s neck from behind, Dew so far gone Mountain has to hold him up. Maybe some teeth in there too~

oops its filthy too~ dew really is a sucker for neck kisses, isn't he?

hope this gives you lots of inspiration hehehe

EDIT: now with delicious art by @autumnblooms

Dew's head lolls back onto Mountain's shoulder for the umpteenth time, too gone to hold it up himself. He chokes off a moan when the earth ghoul sucks at the junction of his neck, belly fluttering and cock jumping at the touch of his tongue.

Mountain grinds up into his little body, rumbling into too hot skin. "Feel so good, fire lily," he rasps. "Taking me so well."

"Uhn," he moans eloquently, arching when Mountain scrapes his teeth over the tendon in his shoulder. Teasing the promise of a claim.

"Belial, like that, just like that, darling." Mountain thrusts lazily, but devastatingly deep and precise. "Just lie back all pretty and take my cock," he breathes hotly into Dew's ear.

“Fu-uck ye-es,” Dew groans, voice jumping with each pass of Mountain’s cock over that spot deep inside. His own cock leaks over his stomach, precum catching in his happy trail and dripping down the shaft.

Mountain kisses up his neck, leaving a messy trail of saliva until he reaches the sensitive spot behind Dew’s ear. He sucks and nibbles, thrusts getting steadily harder the longer he kisses there. The fire ghoul whines. The end of it turns into a wheeze when Mountain sucks a mark into the skin.

“You sound so lovely,” Mountain purrs. His arm tightens across Dew’s chest, really pinning him down. His other arm moves down to his thigh, big hand gripping the muscle and pulling his legs further apart. “Will you cum for me if I touch you?”

Dew squirms a little. Digs his toes into the comforter and grips Mountain’s arm. “Yeah,” he whines. “‘M close, yes, please.”

Mountain huffs a laugh into his sweaty hair. He dips his hand further down, running a finger around Dew’s stretched hole and up the seam of his balls. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Drawn up so tight, so open for me,” he groans. He drags his hand up to his cock, squeezing the base gently.

Dew keens, rolling his head back and forth. “Mountain,” he begs. “C-can’t, I—uhn f-fu—” The earth ghoul runs his thumb over the slit, snapping his hips up at the same time. Any coherent thought leaks out of Dew’s ears as quickly as the precum dripping from the head of his dick.

“Just take it,” he breathes, really pounding into him now. “Lemme make you feel good.”

“Oh Lu-ci-fer,” Dew cries, arching sharply.

“Shhh,” Mountain soothes. “That’s it.” He speeds his hand, slick sounds filling the air around them. “Give it to me, let me hear those lovely noises.”

Dew’s got plenty of them, spilling from his slack mouth with every stroke, every thrust. And still, Mountain kisses at his neck, sucking, nipping, and laving at all the spots that make Dew gasp and clench down on his cock.

“Close,” Dew hisses. “Gonna fuckin’ cum—Mount, shit, ‘mgonnacum—”

Mountain sinks his teeth into the fire ghoul’s shoulder, turning his warning into a warbling moan. His eyes roll back and he spills over Mountain’s hand in no less than two thrusts and one pull on his cock, tail ramrod straight against the bed as he shudders through it.

#its short bc im fighting the writing demons currently #but hope you enjoy!#ask #kate #ficlet #fanfic #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountaindew #mountain x dewdrop #dewdrop x mountain #sodo ghoul #fucking take ME mountain #anyway

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amethystfairy1 · 4 months

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✨Hello hello!✨

I'm Amethyst (she/her), and I'm your local fanfic gremlin. I've written a lot for a lot of fandoms, right now I am caught in the Hermit/Traffic/Empires brainrot, and if that's how you've ended up here, welcome welcome!

Right now, I have two WIP AUs!

Through the Sky-Blue Cracks 🌤️

My Hot Guy/Cute Guy, Over-City/Under-City AU that has a lot more going on in it now, it's grown pretty big and is organized in chronological order, not by publishing order, so I write up and down on the timeline filling in parts and pieces as I go!

TTSBC takes place in a modern/slightly sci-fi AU with superheroes, biotech, secrets to hide, trauma to unpack, and as much humor as I can attempt to fit in as well!

Features the local superheroes crushing on each other, anxious writer meets intrepid reporter, the drama professors who can't keep their hands to themselves, penpals gone wild, resident middle-aged married couple who happen to be a mobster and a mad genius, the local cottagecore lesbians, bad boy butterfly and cat lady, protective big sister, Zom-Mom and Sentient Glowstick, a very tired Guy-in-the-Chair with a permanent headache, and more yet to be added! I've got lots of plans left for this AU, so if you're interested, please come check it out!

Tags for the AU are:

#through the sky blue cracks

#ttsbc au

#ttsbc ficlets

Traveling Thieves 🪽

My dark fantasy AU! This one has some heavy themes going on, so I'd encourage reading the tags carefully before jumping in! I'm very proud of how it is turning out, dealing with breaking out conditioned headspaces, survival in a sick system, negotiating power imbalance, the power of friendship (no, really), and of course we've got elves, mercenaries, magic, swords, sorcery, rogues, redstone, and lots more fun stuff like that! Also lots of adorable birbs, one traumatized fiery boy, a mer with an attitude, a good doggo, and hurt/comfort galore! Giving everyone a chance to believe that they've all got a shot at getting lucky.

Tags for the AU are:

#traveling thieves au

#traveling thieves ficlets

Amethysts Scribbling Corner 📝

A little side project of mine to try and stretch my writing style!

Once in awhile, I will be running a poll with prompts that have been sent in via reblogs, replies, asks, and messages! Please send some in if you have any ideas!

Whatever prompt wins the poll, I will write and add to the series!

They can be as broad as a simple one-word prompt, or you can even give a brief description of a couple of sentences! Last thing: Feel free to request where you want the fic to take place! Especially when we're talking Hermit/Traffic/Empires stuff, if you want it to be within the Minecraft server world of that specific series, within a certain one of the Life Series, a modern AU, a fantasy AU, or even TTSBC or Traveling Thieves if you have ideas for them! Just know that if anything requested for TTSBC or Traveling Thieves contradicts or maybe overlaps with any future plans for those AUs, I might not be able to accept them 😓

As far as rules go...I do not write NSFW. I am happy to write romance and let things get a little spicy 🔥 but keep in mind I'll always end up fading to black...also no heavy gore, violence, body horror, things of that nature. I am very much a fan of writing whump and hurt/comfort though, so please send those ideas my way!

Tags for the series are:

#amethysts scribbling corner

I think that's all that going on with me right now...so yeah! I use this blog for my scribbling corner prompts as well as asks about any of my AUs or writing projects! I love getting the chance to ramble about my worldbuilding, so by all means, give me an excuse and I will make entire posts about that sort of thing!

Thanks for coming by! 💖

#intro post #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #through the sky blue cracks #hermitshipping #worldbuilding #trafficshipping #life series #empires smp #traveling thieves au #amethysts scribbling corner

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kiwiana-writes · 3 days

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Kiwiana's Subscriber Shindig

I hit an absolutely wild (to me, anyway) AO3 subscriber milestone overnight, and after lying on the floor for a while about it, I want to CELEBRATE with a ficlet fest for all y'all who are so kind and supportive and just fucking awesome.

So! Feel free to send me:

A location: I absolutely encourage you to go buckwild here, because y'all know I love a challenge. You can also include a (vague) time period as well as a location if you want to, but you absolutely do not have to. (And there's no guarantee that if you don't send a time period it will be modern-day!)

A ship or focus character of your choice

Your username on AO3, if it differs from your tumblr username, so I can gift it to you there once it's written!

A maximum rating if you're not happy for it to go to E. I'm not saying all of them will, but... well, y'all know me, it's always a risk. So if you wouldn't want to read something E-rated, let me know what the highest rating you'd be happy with is.

And in return you get... a ficlet. Honestly, could be anywhere from 300 to 3000 words, depending on where the mood so takes me. 1-3 are required, though; I need something more than "IDK whatever you feel like" (that's what my normal WIP list is for 😅)

Important note the first: the idea here is a jumping-off point rather than a detailed prompt. So something like "FirstPrince at the barbershop" is awesome! "FirstPrince meet-cute at the barbershop where Alex accidentally comes onto Henry and then they hook up" is more detailed than I'm looking for for these (also I already wrote that one, so it'd be a waste of your time.)

Important note the second: if you're submitting your request on anon, you will still need to give me an AO3 username, please—I can only accept one submission per person, to keep it fair and ensure that I can in fact still write other stuff as well. If you don't have an AO3 account, I still have a few kicking around which will get you signed up faster than the current waitlist: you'll just need to DM me your email address :)

Slide on into my ask box with your request! Requests will be open until April 30th 11:59pm UTC and I'll start filling once requests are closed.

Love y'all, thanks for being awesome and really forcing me to confront my imposter syndrome lmao ❤️

#subscriber shindig #kiwiana-writes

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hier--soir · 3 months

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🕯️ hier--soir's 4k gothic 🕯️

hey folks, somehow we've reached a point where there are over 4000 of you hanging out here and indulging my tomfoolery. so i thought i'd take a moment to say hi, say i love you, say i am endlessly grateful for this weird little corner of the internet, and i'd love to make some fun stuff to celebrate all that love + it’s a good excuse to write some little bits n bobs.

anyone who wants to play can send me something listed below, and i'll post it between mon 29th and sun 4th.

send as many asks as you like, just send them in separately please. if you request a fic, feel free to mention anything you don't want included in it [e.g. smut, gore]

PROMPTS- ╰┈➤ 🫀send me this with one of these prompts about "devotion" + a character [or two if you like] from the list below and i'll turn it into a ficlet [200-1000 words] that is bizarre or dark or gross or scary [or perhaps a mix of all the above] ╰┈➤ 🧛🏼send me this with a trope you love, and i'll recommend a film or a novel i think you might like. ╰┈➤ 🥀send me this with a prompt for a moodboard. it can be for a fic you love, a novel, a character, a film, an idea, anything. ╰┈➤ 🕯️mutuals send me this and i'll make a gothic moodboard based on your vibe.

CHARACTERS FOR FICLETS-

╰┈➤ joel miller

╰┈➤ ellie williams

╰┈➤ simon "ghost" riley

╰┈➤ johnny "soap" mactavish

╰┈➤ john price

tagging some moots that i think might want to play in the mud with me...

@joelscruff @agentmarcuspike @swiftispunk @5oh5 @sweetercalypso @softlyspector @bageldaddy @netherfeildren @atinylittlepain @atticrissfinch @macfrog @undercoverpena @fish-fearme @daydreamingmiller @mrsmando @saradika @thetriumphantpanda @ohcaptains @frannyzooey

🦷🫀🦇🏰

#YAHTZEE #4k gothic #my work is closed next week so let's have some fun #also i had too much fun with this moodboard lmao

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whiskersz · 2 months

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Hello, 👻 anon here! Saw that you're accepting three requests for Adam and well, he's one of my favorites so here I am!

I actually requested this on another blog a while ago, but I'm curious about your take on it. So, would you be willing to write platonic headcannons or ficlet (up to you) for Adam with a gender neutral teenage angel reader? Like the reader died as a teenager and somehow and for some reason Adam took them under his wing. And after a while, the reader starts to see Adam as a father figure and one time the reader accidentally calls Adam 'Dad' but they are very embarrassed about it.

Hope this makes sense, but if it's too specific for you, feel free to decline!

Hope you're doing well!

👻

Hey Ghost! This is such a sweet request, especially for Adam, since he doesn’t exactly have a heart of gold. Reader must have done something really special for him to take them under his wing.

Anyways, here is my interpretation; I ended up basically making up a short story lol, got really into it...hopefully you enjoy!!

Platonic Father Figure Adam x Reader

It took you a while to get used to residing in Heaven, that’s for sure; despite getting the warmest of welcomes from both Saint Peter and the other Angels who would later become your friends, you still found it hard to settle in.

That is until you met Adam.

Adam is very well known both for being the very first man ever created and also the first human soul to ever enter Heaven, and for his notable personality. He’s egotistical, cruel and an overall depraved soul, making you wonder what it really took for a deceased human to end up in Heaven. But let’s not dwell on that too much.

You and Adam met through the concerts of his band; not that he’s the most famous guitar player in Heaven, his band is rather small actually, but you actually have to thank that for getting you multiple meetings with him and the rest of the group. You kind of see them as a family at this point, Adam included.

You actually end up helping them sometimes, with either the lyrics of their songs or the sonority of their music in general. Everyone appreciates you a lot, although every time you express a negative opinion on how Adam’s bit sounds he’s not afraid of basically telling you off. He secretly values your opinion a lot though, and in his free time, when he’s not busy practicing with the rest of the band or taking care of Extermination matters, he revises on his own on whatever piece sounded off to you.

Either way, Adam ends up becoming pretty protective of you; he even warns his right hand woman, Lute, to never treat you in the wrong way, and from that moment on she gains a lot of respect for you as well.

You three are rarely seen walking around without each other actually, unless you’re out and about with your other friends your age, in which case he warns you that they better treat you right or you’re never seeing them again, to which you retort with saying that this is very unlikely since you’ve known them for a while and this is Heaven after all, if they’re here they must’ve earned it somehow. He simply replies that in the rare case that they do something distasteful to you he’s completely willing to send them where they belong – in Hell.

Adam manages to tone it down with the rude nicknames when it comes to you; he will still call you ‘bitch’ or anything of the like, or he might call you a little asshole from time to time if you do something that mildly annoys him, but he will never go too overboard as he doesn’t really wish to make you uncomfortable – the thoughts in his head though might sound something like: “Ah, shit. I basically became a father figure, call them something weird and they’re gone Adam, gone.”

The one time you manage to make Adam, the First Man, emotional, is the night before the Extermination.

With Charlie’s father, Lucifer himself, somehow getting her to visit Heaven and discuss with Sera and Emily themselves, you’re worried that he might be planning to make an appearance and hurt Adam.

Adam dismisses your theories, even dares to call them stupid, and in a fit of emotion you blurt out a “But I don’t want to lose you just for being careless, dad!”.

You quickly realize what you just said and both your hands travel to your mouth, a shocked expression on both you and Adam’s faces.

He mumbles a ‘shit’ before pulling you into a hug with his wing.

“Promise I’ll watch my back, kid.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader platonic #platonic #hazbin hotel #hazbin

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undeadcannibal · 9 months

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I would (and will) fight a small child if it means I can get Gaz fics!!!! Nsfw or sfw (nsfw preferably bc this man does NOT get enough attention)

If you have any ideas you've been wanting to write but don't have a character feel free idc JUST WANT GAZ

But if you need ideas, literally anything with voyeurism and/or exhibitionism. ←Literally my weakness. Sharing, sharing is always fun. Uhhhhm God I swear I come up with shit all the time. Oh! Maybe sharing with Price? I don't ship the two at all they both just happen to be my favorites. Or sharing with Soap! Maybe

I'm trying to help I swear I'm just so tired💀

I'll leave you alone now, thank you!! I love your writing and your page sm! Can't wait to see more from you!!!💕

-🌻🐾

Summary: One-shot with Gaz about him going wild eating out an AFAB Reader~

Genre: One-shot, ficlet, request(s)

Word count: 805 Characters featured: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Warnings: AFAB reader, no pronouns used (I hope, but I’ll change this if someone finds something that I missed!), explicit details about oral sex/cunnilingus, nsf/t!

A/N: Okay look, I know this isn’t what was asked for, but damn it, I know Gaz needs more material for him. And I’m more than happy to provide. Idk. I apologize, but I NEED this man’s mouth on me ASAP! Hopefully you enjoy regardless though ToT and thank you for enjoying my works! ( Gif credit: xxx )

He doesn't like to admit it aloud but he knows he turns feral when eating pussy. Or ass. Really, he's a huge oral fan in general.

There's times where he's content with just going down on you whilst you're preoccupied with another task. He loves the thought of you trying your best to focus while he's got his mouth on you.

So, when you confess you're in the mood to have him eat you out, he's all smiles because he knows it's going to be a good time for both of you.

Doesn't give a damn what you weigh, he'll ask if he can pick you up and sit you on his shoulders so he can eat your pussy while he's standing. When he has permission, it doesn't even matter if you have work that day, he'll convince you to call out. Says he has to "do it properly" or something of the like.

He'll allow the two of you to go about your day together as the two of you normally would. It's not till the two of you have some downtime around noon when he finally makes his move. He asks you to undress and you oblige, getting fully nude for him before he beckons you over.

The moment you're close enough to grab, his hands are on you. Pulling you closer so he could then slide his hands down to the back of your thighs, just below the curvature of your ass. With a cheeky grin on his face, Gaz was then making you squeal in surprise as he suddenly hoisted you up into his arms. Lifting you up until you had no choice but to sling your legs over his shoulders for just the slightest sense of stability. Even more so as he lead you towards the wall for your back to rest against.

"Doin' alright, love?"

You'd nod down at him in acknowledgement, reassuring him right as you saw his head disappear between your spread legs. Immediately feeling the sensation of his tongue swiping along the length of your opening, you released a keening moan. Your hips working back and forth against his face as you tried to chase that pleasurable sensation. Thankfully, Kyle didn't seem to mind one bit, grinning for a second before returning to the task at hand.

His hands splayed across the globes of your ass cheeks as he literally dug in, wiggling his face as he worked his mouth deeper into you. His wet and warm tongue wiggling forth till he was teasing your entrance for a few moments - causing you to huff and breathe harder than before - before pulling back. Placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your puffy cunt till he reached your clitoris.

Gazing up at you with warm brown eyes, he made sure you were looking at him the moment he sealed his lips around your swelling bug. Sucking the hypersensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth as spikes of pleasure rolled up from your groin to deep within your belly. Twisting that familiar knot within you tighter as your head fell back against the wall. Your eyes drifting shut and mouth falling open in a silent cry as Kyle worked you over with his far-too-talented mouth.

His name along with a few cries and pants fell out of your mouth over and over till your mouth felt dry. Beads of sweat matting your hair to your forehead and the rest rolling along to soak into the roots at your scalp.

The ecstasy he was causing you to feel had you literally hot and bothered as you squirmed and ground your pussy against his face. Your thighs threatened to clamp down on both sides of his head as he ate you out vigorously. Moaning and grunting against your flesh as his mouth drifted away, giving your clit a break so he could leisurely work his tongue in and out of your fluttering core. Pulling his dripping tongue away just to introduce his fingers to your opening.

You'd been far too gone to really feel his hand leaving your ass so he could push his index and middle finger into you.

Kyle's calloused fingertips wriggled forth till he was sinking into the second knuckle of both digits. Taking personal delight in the way you writhed and cried out for more from him. Watching you lose yourself in your own pleasure just before he moved his soaked mouth back down to your clit, laving his tongue back and forth quickly and repeatedly till you were gasping and crying out that you could barely take it anymore. Grunting and practically growling against you as he works you over till you’re squirting against his face.

He gladly goes down on you till he knows you’ll struggle walking correctly the next day with how spent your muscles are.

#call of duty x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #one shot #requests #anonymous #my writing

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