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#you can feel his smile without even seeing it
luveline · 18 hours
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Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤
thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k
“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 
Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 
He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 
“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 
He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 
“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 
“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 
“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 
You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 
“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 
He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 
He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 
It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 
He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 
He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 
Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 
In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 
Today, right now, that’s crackers. 
“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 
“I’m back,” she agrees. 
“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 
“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 
Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 
He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 
“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 
Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 
He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 
“I’m just changing!” 
“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 
You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 
“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 
She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 
“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 
“Yes please, daddy.” 
Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  
“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 
“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 
“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 
Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 
“Yes, please,” Sarah says.
You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 
He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 
“Thanks, daddy.” 
You breathe in. 
Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 
“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 
Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 
“She did.” 
“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 
“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.
“She just loves you,” you say. 
“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 
You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 
“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 
You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 
He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 
Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 
“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 
“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 
Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 
He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 
“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 
“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 
“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 
“Big changes.” 
He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 
Your shoulders finally relax. 
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echoofadream · 3 days
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Your favorite patient...
Part 1
Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?
Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.
Part 2 Part 3
Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state. 
One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.
The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.
Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.
One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"
The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.
After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!
One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?
"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.
You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-
"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.
"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"
It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.
"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".
He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"
Did he just say slave?
"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.
"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .
Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.
"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".
The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.
"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .
You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?
"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"
A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.
"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"
He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.
"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."
You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.
"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."
"Please, what?"
"Please....punish me"
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).
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kenntolog · 2 days
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hihi!!
i saw ur inbox was open so could i request drunk loser gf and cool bf sukuna taking care of her? maybe them going to a party together to get her out of her shell a little? ofc it doesnt have to be that, whatever u think is good!! thanks!
𝝑𝝔 an: hey hey!! i hope u like this!! i started kinda feeling insecure about my writings ngl, i have no idea why :(( ignore any typos or grammar errors, ill edit a little later.
read more here!!
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cool boyfriend sukuna is so sure that his loser girlfriend won’t even try to get drunk at the party at his teammates house, it’s actually kind of funny, because that is, in fact, true.
somehow the cups of water you are getting from the kitchen taste a little bit stronger and you ask a random girl for something more sweet and, well, drinkable for you. a not so trustworthy looking pinkish mix is then shoved into your hand and when you take a sip of it, it actually doesn’t feel that bad so you just continue.
all that whilst you’re roaming around free of sukuna, since he wanted to have some fun with the boys and you didn’t want to hold him back. sukuna himself would never think of you that way, but he still lets you be so you can get out of your comfort zone a little, without his constant support. you kind of agreed with him on that, feeling a bit embarrassed.
so of course it’s a surprise for sukuna when about an hour later geto tugs him away with a concerned look in his purple eyes, saying it’s about you and how he ‘needs to see this’. he is not drunk, since he has to drive you both home, not even that tipsy, he just had a few cups of beer and maybe a shot, so he is able to function properly. and he gets a little worried.
and then he finally recognises your face in the room, body stilling in shock as he watches you.
on top of a small table with some other girl, your arms around her waist and hers around your neck as you both sway, jump and push into each other seductively, dancing to the beat of a catchy, well-known song.
he can’t take his eyes off of you. although a little clumsy and untrained, compared to the girl’s movements, yours still make him and seemingly other people somehow hypnotised.
sukuna must admit, he is mesmerised too because you’re his pretty loser girlfriend, you know? you don’t ever do stuff like this, you were even reluctant to go to this party since it’s not your cup of tea. how come you’re so different when you’re under the influence of alcohol? he has no idea.
it doesn’t take long for you to notice him and clumsily jump down from the table right into his arms. smiling wide and bright at him with sparkly eyes as you hang off of him, letting him tug you around and just giggling into his chest while he gets a little frustrated with you because your limbs seem to be very cooperative when you’re drunk.
only your arms seem to be permanently glued around his neck, your lips pecking the sensitive skin, which kind of bothers him. that slight rasp in your honey-sweet voice, the dazed look in your eyes, your loud breathing — it makes him want to devour you…
he still has to get you home, though, so he promises himself to get back at you later.
the ride to your place is surprisingly silent. it seems like you’ve finally spent all of your energy and chose to curl on his passenger seat, looking out of the window while one of your hands held tightly onto his.
getting you out of clothes is one of the harder trials it seems; you are stronger than you look like, sukuna realises that when you pull him onto yourself while laying on the bed as soon as he finishes changing your clothes. legs wrapping around his waist along with your arms around his neck, you let him smother you into the sheets while he curses you quietly and responds to your affections with small kisses of his own. sukuna can’t resist you, ever.
washing your makeup off is a relatively easy task, yet brushing your teeth is a whole other level. sukuna wouldn’t bother if it was for himself, yet he does it for you since you’d hate to sleep with your mouth still dirty.
but you make it so hard!! hugging him close to yourself, he can barely push you away because you’re stuck as if permanently glued so he opts on cupping your jaw to move your head slightly to be able to put the brush in your mouth. you whine at the sudden intrusion, brows pinching in the middle as you try to pull away.
“‘kuna~”
“stop acting like a baby,” he rolls his eyes with a ‘tsk’ and shakes you a little.
bad idea. tears spring out of eyes as they scrunch and your still foamy mouth parts slightly in a childish cry. oh he hates to see you cry.
sukuna kisses your forehead gently as he puts away the toothbrush, “shh, sorry, ‘m sorry, baby,” he gently pats your back, urging you to spit out the remains of toothpaste, “c’mon.”
you do as he says, giving him a pouty look, and continue clinging onto him. sukuna shakes his head and offers you his hand, to which you immediately hug his whole arm and let him lead you to bed.
clinging onto him like a baby, truly living up to your nickname, you lay on top of him, clean and satisfied while sukuna slowly rubs your back. tiredness and exhaustion get the best of him, so he is unable to fully catch on to your lovely monologue filled with your honest words that accentuate your love for him, however the last thing he hears is ‘love you, ‘kuna, you’re the best’ and it’s enough to bring a pleased smile on his face.
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sainns · 3 days
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pining ㅤ ⊹ ㅤ all of enha
gnreader ㅤ୨୧ㅤ 𝓒ontent . . .ㅤ friend!enhypen, pre relationship, this is a revamped post from when i first started my account, sunoo's the craziest one here for sure, a singular death joke, not proofread so pls ignore typosㅤ──ㅤ 817 ( 🗒 )
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lee heeseung refuses to let you carry anything. he’s made it a habit of grabbing anything that you’re holding and carrying it himself. whether it be shopping bags, your purse, a stuffed animal that he won for you, or groceries, he will be carrying it all. sure, it may be a little hard carrying 15 different bags of groceries up to your apartment but he doesn't mind. even as you complain, saying that you feel bad that he has to carry everything when you can help, he'll just laugh you off, asking you to let him do this for you. you do a lot for him (unbeknownst to you) and this is the least he can do.
park jongseong asks for your opinion on almost everything he does. he'll ask you if he should buy this shirt or that one, watch looks better, what he should eat. it’s like he lost all ability make choices for himself after he gained feelings for you, only trusting your opinion. maybe it's because he wants to have things that you like, who knows. what everyone does know is that the contanst buzzing coming from your phone? jay. he's most definitely texting you about whatever it is he feigns needing help choosing, but he can't help it if your opinion is the only one that matters to him.
sim jaeyun loves to go shopping with you; he literally begs to be able go even if you tell him that you're just going to window shop. not to mention the fact that he is so serious about shopping; he’ll put his phone on do not disturb, giving you his full attention. when you ask him was store he wants to go to he'll shake his head, claming that this trip is for you and if he reall needs something then he can go on his own time. he always ends up buying your stuff for you, waving you off as he gives the cashier his money.
park sunghoon calls you every single night just so that he can fall asleep to your voice. in the beginning he asks you about your day, listening intently and asking follow up questions. he wants to hear your voice for as long as possible, especially when he went the whole day without talking to you. when you ask about his day, though, he gives you the most basic answer possible and moves the conversation back to you. and every morning, without fail, he claims that he didn't mean to fall asleep but your voice is way too soothing for your own good. you figure that he's not telling the full truth after you hear him say goodnight and he doesn't hang up the phone.
kim seonwoo takes more pictures of you than he does of himself. you swear when you caught a glipse of his gallery you saw an album named 'yn' that featured over seven thousand photos of you. which yes, you saw correctly, he has a very full folder full of pictutes of you. most of them aren't even good but he would rather die than delete the ten, nearly identical, photos of you laughing or the blurry video he got while you were ugly crying because of some movie. he also uses them to tease you—laughing when you tell him to delete it. yeah.. he's almost all out of storage, at this point he's going to buy a burner phone just for photos of you.
yang jungwon loves to texts you updates about his day. if you think jay texts you a lot, oh man, jungwon beats him by twenty miles. he'll tell you his plans who they're with, what he's planning on eating, the cute cat family he saw on the street (pictures included). this man tells you everything, every thought he has it feels like. honestly, he only bothers going out so that he has an excuse to text you, it makes him smile brightly at his phone when he sees your responses. when you start sending him updates about your day? he gets so happy, it's his favorite part of the day to hear from you now, nothing else could ever compare.
nishimura riki does not know what personal space is. he's always touching you in some way, even if it's subtle, like your shoulders pressing together when you're sitting on the couch, watching a movie. when you walk somewhere together, you have to push him away multiple times because he's practically on top of you with how close he is. when you're hanging out with friends, he tends to wrao an arm around your shoulder or lean his head against yours. your friends tease him for it, saying that he's practically apart of you now. he glares at them playfully, gripping your hand in his as he pulls you away (he just really wants to be alone with you).
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cheriladycl01 · 3 days
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Can you do a cute one shot please where reader gets drunk and she’s a super lovey and cute drunk and just wants cuddles with Max or Lando please?? Love 🍷 anon who is deffo not drunk and crying over max edits 🥰🥰
Drunk in Love - Lando Norris x Drunk Reader x Max Verstappen
Plot: Your were drinking for England after your first podium. To the point where you can’t tell the difference between your boyfriend Lando Norris and team-mate Max Verstappen.
Warning: Throwing up, General drunkenness.
A/N: This request was hard to choose whether i wanted it centered around Max or Lando, so i added Max being cutie.
Credit to il-predestinato for the GIF
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You'd gotten your first podium and you were in a celebrating that in a London Club after the British GP. There was a load of drivers in the club with you including your boyfriend Lando Norris.
You were being offered drinks from pretty much everyone in the room, it was absolutely insane and you'd taken so many drinks without even thinking how much you'd had.
You vision was so blurry, and you were at the point where being this intoxicated was scaring you and you just wanted to get back to your apartment that you kept in London while Lando had the Monaco apartment.
"Lan!" you cry looking up at who you thought was your boyfriend because of the shirt he was wearing. It the shape, same colour and same material when you leaned in to touch it as what Lando was wearing.
Your vision was beyond fucked and you couldn't even make out your boyfriends beautiful face.
"Baby!" you cried at him, tugging him towards you, your eyes blurring more with tears as you struggle to get his attention. The body turns round, and Max is now looking down at his friends very drunk state.
"Y/N?" he asks looking over at you bending down.
"Lan, please baby. I love you but I want to go home!" you say nuzzling into his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle.
"Oh-erm Y/N" Max tries but because of how loud the club is your drunk self cant even tell that it's Max and his Dutch accent that is talking to you and trying to pry you off of him.
"Why are you trying to get me to let go! You love cuddles!" you pout looking down.
"Do you not love me anymore?" you gasp before sobs start to rack through your body at the thought of Lando, the love of your life no longer wanting to be with you.
"Hey, Hey shush!" Max comforts you, pulling you in for a hug and brushing you hair with his hand in a polite manner. You nuzzle into the hug, and you started to feel strange, this didn't feel like a Lando hug, it didn't feel like your Lando full stop.
This body was taller, but not as built as Lando. It didn't feel right. And you couldn't help but wonder who on earth this imposter was.
Max was asking around him, trying to get Charles and Carlos to find where Oscar, Logan and Lando had all wondered off to away from you.
"You are my boyfriend! WHO ARE YOU?" you ask your eyes squiting to try have a better look at the man in front of you.
"Y/N it's me Max!" he smiles kindly putting his hand on your upper arm to steady you as he can see your swaying.
"I want Lando, please get Lando!" you ask with little gasps of breath, sounding like hiccups while you try to catch you breathe a little.
"Carlos has gone looking for him, look come sit down here next to Charlie and Daniel, i'll go help Carlos!" Max says leading you next to Charles who moves over a little in the booth to give you room to get in.
You sit there quietly waiting for Lando's return.
Max was practically running round the club, looking to spy Lando or even Carlos so they could team up and look for the trio together.
After looking he finds them out on the balcony looking down at the busy London street below.
"Lando!" Max shouts making all their heads snap round.
"What's up?" Lando asks putting his drink down making it clink on the glass of the table.
"It's Y/N she's like ... I've never seen her this drunk before. She didn't even know I was me, she thought i was you!" he explains and Lando looks between Oscar and Logan with a shocked look.
"We left her for what... like half an hour!" Lando sighs before following Max back inside leaving Oscar and Logan to their own devices out on the balcony.
"Baby?" Lando asks tentatively, seeing you slouched against Charles.
"Lan!" you exclaim, jumping up and launching yourself at him. You hug him and he wraps you into a familiar warm bear hug and you know that it's him now.
"There's MY Lan!" you smile, nuzzling into him. He kisses your forehead before pulling you back and bending down to your level to look over your face. He could see how spacey your eyes look and that it's for sure about time you should be leaving.
"Come on baby lets go!" he smiles and you shake your head with a soft whine.
"My feet hurt so much" you say groggily and he cant help but laugh at the little pouty expression on his face.
"That's okay, I can carry you baby" he smiles and lifts you up as though you were the weight of a feather. He carries you bridle style all the way back to your apartment which was actually on a 15 minute walk through London.
"I love you so much! I'm sorry about tonight!" you sighed at him, not enjoying filming guilty for making him leave this early.
"Why are you sorry darling!" he laughs as he places you down in the now moving elevator of your apartment building.
"Because i made you leave early from the fun because I don't feel well!" you pout, grabbing his arm and hugging it close against you. He just smiles down at you. You were normally very affectionate anyway but drunk you was very clingy and needy.
Not that Lando minded, he actually loved it.
"Come on baby, it's bed time for the both of us. No need to feel guilty, I was kinda wanting to come back for a nice cuddle session with you anyway!" he grins and you then look down.
"Shower!" you complain looking at him as the lift doors open to your pent house. He carries you straight through to the bathroom, you collapse to your knees throwing up all the contents from that night.
Tears brim your eyes hating the sensation, while Lando rubs your back soothingly trying to help make sure you can breath.
"Okay, lets wash this down and then get you in there to clean up yeah hunny?" he smiles at you, grabbing the shower head down and turning the water on washing the sick from the floor of the shower down the drain until its gone. He helps you step in undressing you, then himself.
He helps you shower, not trusting you alone in the shower by yourself in this state before drying you off and brushing you teeth for you.
You both snuggle up in the big bed, you cuddling into him playing with his curls.
"I love you!" you whispers looking up at his expression.
"I love you more" he smiles placing a kiss on your lips before turning the lights off with the remote and laying his head back to sleep.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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tsukimefuku · 2 days
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bad dream ❖ kento nanami
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summary: after a bad night filled with nightmares, nanami is glad to see you never left his apartment.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, nanami x reader, tooth rotting fluff, hurt and comfort.
wc: 600
notes, etc: small little drabble I wrote for self soothing purposes and decided to share.
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist
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You were trying and failing miserably to make Kento an omelet before he woke up. You already dreaded the sight you had in front of you, fearing he might wake up with the smell of burnt egg.
Kento, however, wouldn’t wake up due to that, but due to something much more somber. 
Once again, after you had spent the night with him, his sleep would be taken by the vivid nightmares of Haibara’s death and your near death experience mingling together in a senseless dream of gloom. Upon opening his eyes and not seeing you by his side, still half dazed and asleep, Nanami’s heart felt like a rock in his chest.
But by this time, he had learned his lesson.
He quickly stood up and walked to his room’s door, seeing you were already in the kitchen trying to make some breakfast.
Nanami began walking towards you in a quick stride, and you heard his footsteps, turning around to face him as you pulled the pan out of the stove top.
”I’m so sorry to wake you, I didn’t mean to, I was just trying-“
Before you could finish your sentence, though, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had come desperately searching for the warmth and comfort from you, and was very glad that you hadn’t left his apartment that morning. His nose made its way towards your hair, and he nuzzled around, letting out a strained sigh from the depths of his lungs the moment he felt the flowery scent you usually carried around in your hair and clothes.
You smelled like plum blossoms.
“Kento? Is everything alright?” You inquired with a hint of concern to your voice as you hugged him back.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against your hair before planting a kiss on your head. His voice sounded just as strained as his breathing.
What has gotten into him?
You waited patiently for his grip to loosen a little before you pulled back and looked at him. His usual impassive face was replaced by a soft pained frown. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your heart ache a little for him, as Kento really seemed to be anguished.
“Kento, what happened?”
He gulped the sandy sensation in his throat, mouth falling slightly open without a sound coming out of it.
Given he had just come out of the room, you had a hunch, though.
“Did you have a nightmare or something like that?”
You weren’t a stranger to nightmares yourself, given the amount of trauma sorcerers were subject to on the daily. Some of them even featured Kento, much to your despair, until you were given the little mercy of waking up.
Kento simply leaned his face on your hands and nodded, his breath evening out as you both locked eyes for a moment.
“I won’t go anywhere if you don’t go anywhere,” you told him, brushing your thumbs down his cheeks, “just don’t push me away like you did that time and you can rest assured you will never get rid of me, okay?”
Kento sighed, relieved to hear you say that, and the faintest smile took over his expression, as he said, “I promise I won’t ever push you away again.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
It was your turn to smile, as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck and pulled you in, pressing your face gently against his shoulder.
“I’m glad,” you answered, letting your eyes fall shut as you both stood there hugging each other.
The burnt egg didn’t seem so bad now, after all. 
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End notes: I’m rewriting “The Event - Part 2” and needed some fluff to soothe myself. Hope this soothes you guys too.
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motomamita · 3 days
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viking!konig × female!villager!reader
warnings: smut, +18, possesive!konig, breeding kink, kidnapping, mentions of rape and virginity!!
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Viking!Konig who, along with his warriors, disembark in a small village located by the sea. Dressed in animal skins, swords and armor, they enter the village to loot and destroy everything within their reach.
It is then that he manages to spot a small house at the top of a small mountain, not far from all the others. Upon reaching the field, he notices a female figure coming out of the small garden with a basket of tomatoes. It was you, dressed in a long white skirt, a beige shirt and a scarf around your head. You look like an angel fallen from heaven, so harmonious and calm, totally different from Konig's rude figure.
It doesn't take you long to notice that tall, burly man at the entrance to your home, who seems anything but pleasant. You recognize their clothing and the bad intentions that characterized the vikingos. An expression of terror was marked on your face and you immediately ran into your home, shouting your father's name and without letting go of the basket of tomatoes.
Konig's stomach twisted in a feeling of excitement at your reaction, feeling powerful at the fear of the rest of the people seeing him. With his long, muscular legs, he followed your steps to the interior of the home where a series of murmurs welcomed him.
In the humble living room there was an adult couple who looked somewhat sick and next to them was you, who covered 2 small children no more than 6 years old with your body. Konig was tall and in good shape compared to your family, who apparently barely had enough to eat.
"Please, don't hurt us.." sobbed your mother, who brought her skinny hands to her chest, begging.
"We don't have anything valuable, you can check for yourself." Your father spoke now, pointing around you. Konig began to walk around the room, observing everything around him and verifying that there was nothing there that would be useful to him. "The only thing we can offer him are vegetables and fruits from our garden. Daughter, give him the basket of tomatoes!" Your father ordered, hoping that Konig would agree and leave as soon as possible.
You stepped forward timidly and held out the basket with the tomatoes to him, taking a distance and with your hands trembling. Konig looked down at you, smiling slightly at your fear and how you couldn't maintain eye contact with his cold blue eyes. He reached his hand to the basket and took a tomato, it had a good size and color. Without thinking he brought it to his mouth and tasted a little of it, not caring how the juice fell from his lips to his bushy beard.
"And then? What do you think? If you want, you can take the whole basket, it's all yours!" Your father insisted.
To tell the truth, that tomato was delicious but you were even more so. "I'll take everything from the garden... And your daughter too." Konig spoke for the first time, generating a shiver throughout your body.
"No problem. Girl, put on some shoes and go!" Your father spoke coldly, capable of doing everything possible to defend his family, even if it meant giving you away to an unknown Viking.
You sobbed and screamed that they wouldn't let you leave with him, with Konig, but your father did nothing but raise his voice even more and even try to hit you. Your mother and your brothers cried in silence, observing the situation with sadness but without intervening on your behalf. The decision was already made, you were now Konig's property.
It was widely said that the Vikings came to the villages not only to plunder but also to rape their women and then return to their more 'relaxed' ways. Luckily for you, or not, that had not been the case for you. No, Konig didn't just see you as a hole to fill with his powerful semen. But as his property, as something to take care of and defend from the other Vikings who had no intention of formalizing with any woman. He wanted to be the only one with something to fight for and stay alive. And, soon, with whom to form a small family of warriors.
During the short time you had to gather your few things, your father took it upon himself to inform Konig of all the good things you had to offer. You knew how to wash, cook, heal, and, best of all, you were a virgin. That last one excited Konig even more, who was excited by the idea of ​​being the first (and only) to be between your legs.
You boarded a large ship with your wrists handcuffed to prevent you from escaping and an old cloth bag with some items of clothing. According to Konig, none of that would help you in the cold climate of traveling over the sea, plus he wanted you not to wear underwear.
"Look guys! Konig brought us this sweetness to share!" one of the Vikings exclaimed, making all the men's hungry gazes turn towards you. You sobbed at the idea of ​​having to serve as a sexual slave for all those scary Vikings but that idea quickly disappeared when you noticed how Konig approached the man and growled: "don't go near her." Reporting that you were not a common asset to the crew, but his alone.
That same night you slept next to Konig in a more exclusive room than the rest of the men, who all slept in the same crowded place. You noticed that he had a higher rank than the rest, therefore you had certain advantages over the others. Luckily for you, Konig explored your body externally, caressing your breasts, ass and pussy but without trying anything else.
The weeks passed and with them you managed to get used to the lifestyle of those men. Konig had already warned everyone about your exclusivity only with him, so no one ever tried anything with you. Your routine was based on washing and cooking Konig's clothes, cleaning his war wounds and cooking for him and his men. During the nights, you only had to be in charge of helping him bathe and dress the times when he arrived very exhausted, then both of you would just lie down and sleep.
Inevitably you managed to appreciate him and desire the closeness of that massive man. Konig, for his part, also wanted you, demonstrating it in the way that during the night he would rest his big erection against your ass, or how he would sit you on his lap and take advantage of the movements of the boat to obtain a pleasurable friction.
That night, the sexual tension between the two was unsustainable and it didn't take long for both of them to achieve what they had longed for. Due to your tightness and the large size of Konig's member, his first thrusts were painful and uncomfortable. However, he took care of reducing your disagreement by sucking and biting your breasts.
"My little wife- ah I love your breasts and how tight you are.." Konig growled, bringing his hands to your hips, using you as his personal fleshlight.
Slowly, his long and thick cock entered completely inside of you, feeling a sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. His hot breath and masculine scent made your walls wrap even tighter around him, causing him to moan loudly.
"Mine, only mine. This pussy belongs to me, your breasts belong to me, you belong to me completely..." he murmured, bringing his mouth to your ear and lightly biting your lobe.
His thrusts increased along with his grunts, you sobbed with pleasure at the way his hair pubes touched your clit. "Konig- I want more.." you stammered, not quite able to formulate words.
"Huh? You want my cum? You want me to fill you up inside?" He asked as his pace became more clumsy, announcing that he was about to finish.
And so he did, filling your entire interior with his powerful semen that, after 9 months later, took shape into 2 chubby and healthy warriors.
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chaldeanu · 1 day
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taste of home ノ aventurine
ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @yinyuedijun ノ i slightly changed the prompt as you said you’re okay with it. i couldn’t come up with any inspiration for an avgin dish, and anything else would require many many more words hehe so i just kept that “homemade” part. i hope you will enjoy the read! ♡
ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k ノ gn reader — established relationship . soft bickering . making dinner ノ mostly domestic fluff but it’s aventurine so obviously a sprinkle of hurt comfort ノ vague mentions of his past
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“you never eat at home.”
home sounds distant. aventurine is not used to hearing that word; he’s baffled at how easy it is for you to mention it in any conversation you spark with him.
“why should i? i have enough money to—”
“why shouldn’t you? just once in a while?” an offer, all you can muster with a shrug of your shoulders, knowing well that he would only get more defensive if you were to push him any further with a stern tone. “don’t you want at least to try?”
he doesn’t remember how the food he used to eat with his family tasted like. its memory mingled with the taste of blood, dirt, and dry rations he had to live on for some time. now that he thinks about it — now that you forced him to think about it — maybe that’s exactly why he wants to eat only fancy full-course meals at the finest restaurants. correct, he should get over this irrational fear, but it is so deeply ingrained in his core. an inseparable part.
“for someone so cocky, it’s almost weird to see how often you’re scared of trying new things.” you say it gently, holding his hand in between yours and caressing his knuckles with the soft pads of your thumbs.
“aww, don’t say that,” he chuckles. “you’re usually the one that runs away behind me when something startles you or asks me to do something for you, haha!”
“no?! i’m not. i’m doing fine on my own!” you huff, crossing your arms on your chest.
he grins and shakes his head at you. but it doesn’t look mischievous, not this time. even if you want to continue being stubborn, there’s no point in dragging out this silly argument that, frankly, is completely unrelated to the main topic. to which you return, with your gaze almost pleading.
“we barely used that table in the dining room since moving in here. i can make you something.”
he blinks a few times, tilting his head slightly to come up with a witty answer. but you ignore it, patting him to sit on the chair and yourself going into the kitchen.
to kill the remaining time, he plays with the cuffs of his shirt, picking off nonexistent lint from the silk, before he drops his shoulders down with a sigh. it feels good to just let the day pass, eyes unfocused at the glimmers of the afternoon sun dancing through the windows; he’s glancing at his phone every few minutes, ignoring replying to the messages from work despite them occupying his mind more than he would like to.
not even noticing when he hears your voice calling for him as you come back. the food smells great, and it makes him more nervous as he keeps staring at the dish you put in front of him.
you’re trying not to smile at the sight of him mouthing something under his nose, not sure what, but if you’re not mistaken, something along the lines of being too good for him or making him uncomfortable — or both. for whatever reason, you expected he would take it worse than this.
“you like it?”
“it’s fine.” there’s a pause when his throat ties into a knot, tears threatening to gather in the corner of his eyes.
unsurprising reaction. you sigh and get up from your seat, moving to the other side of the table to put a hand on his shoulder. with each reassuring rub, you take little steps until you’re behind him and your fingers slip into his hair, massaging the scalp in lazy circles.
“let me get my coffee. i will join you in a moment.” you kiss the top of his head and walk away.
and he’s thankful that he can swallow that unexpected surge of emotions without you sitting in front of him.
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fanaticsnail · 2 days
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Sanji in his little "Kiss the Cook" apron.
Is it romantic? Starting as a joke with kisses on the cheek and temple until the two of you end up full on making out?
Or is it platonic? With the straw hats giving him little kisses in passing, starting with Luffy and spreading through the crew until even Zoro relents? Because what's better than kissing the homies goodnight?
You tell me snail, what's the move?
-♡♡ lots of love
"porque no los dos?"
Kiss the Cook
Masterlist here
Word Count: 1,700+
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Synopsis: Sanji was gifted an apron from Nami after returning back from town. Every member of the crew aside from Zoro and you have followed the embroidered instructions written on his chest, and he wasn't happy about the lack of kisses from you. You finally relent and give him what he wants.
Themes: platonic kisses, fluff, implied f!reader - but can be read as gn!reader, sanji has feelings for you, you have unspoken feelings for sanji, idiots in love, Sanji has lost that 'line-cook rizz'.
Notes: This has been in my ask box for less than a day. I don't know what it is about you, anon. As soon as I see those two little hearts I'm just overtaken by something. I blame the "kisses".
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @indydonuts @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @writingmysanity
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“Could these onions misbehave any more?” the chef grumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and clamping hard down on his cigarette, “C’mon, now. What have I gotta do to get your layers off? Talk dirty to you?” He used the steel edge of his knife to attempt to pry the brown outer layer away from its fleshy underside with shaking hands. 
Sanji’s nerves were ignited, his whole composure on edge and waiting for the next intrusion in his kitchen and potential distraction from his work. 
When Nami brought the frilly pink apron his way, he was initially ecstatic at the notion he was thought of enough to be given a little gift. But as the red embroidery with white stitched hearts expressed consent for his body to be given sweet kisses at all times, he was truly alert. With an assault of affection from all who approached him each time he adorned the fabric in its wake, he was finding it difficult to focus on each mundane kitchen task. 
In this case, peeling onions was the bane of his existence. As the flickered peel almost withdrew from the circular bulb, it split and only chipped off a small amount of the outer layer. 
Sanji loved kisses, adored kisses: all the cheek, forehead and shoulder kisses he'd received from the crew. Cheeky Nami kisses, soft Robin kisses, and nibbled toothy kisses from Chopper were his favorites. 
He was less enthusiastic about hulking, wet kisses from Franky, nor the hungry cheek kisses from Luffy which was used to depict the state of his appetite. Usopp was the middle ground, his kisses were a tease on his shoulder with a rough clap and a gaggle of laughter immediately thereafter.
Brook’s kisses were actually quite funny to the blonde cook. As the skeleton man had no lips to kiss with, he resigned himself to the notion of simply walking past him, and taunting him with a melodic hum of the words: “kiss,” “kisses,” or an emphatic “mwah,” as he did so.
Of the members of the remaining crew, he was happy that the stinky moss-head kept his lips to himself. There was no way he would allow him the closer proximity to his body without starting a sparring match. He was, however, not so happy that you were yet to place your lips sweetly on the apple of his cheek. 
Sanji adored you, wanted to treat you with the utmost respect and dote on you alongside the other members of the crew. You were special to him, and he rationalized that his small crush was why he was craving a scrap of your attention so much. As he continued cursing at the onions, he heard a soft tap on the doorway to the kitchen. 
“Need help, cook?” Sanji looked up, noticing you leaning on the side of the door. He smiled softly at you, biting back his smile and gulping his insecurity. 
“Oh, beautiful angel,” he managed to turn away from the counter and look out the window as he resumed his battle with the onions, “I'm all good here, don't you worry yourself. Go relax with the others.” You clicked your tongue and stepped closer to the bench and stood a few feet away from the blonde cook. 
Noticing his posture, you knit your brows in puzzlement. He was twitching while he was going about his peeling, finally managing to coax the shell away from the exterior and sigh in relief. His cheeks were tinted a soft shade of pastel pink, his nose the most darkened by the blushy hue. 
Looking down, the frilly pink apron with ‘Kiss the Cook,’ held the final piece of information as to his nervous composure. You smiled softly at him, looking to where his hands skillfully minced the onions and threw them into a scorching pot with molten butter and aromatic herbs. 
He rinsed his hands in the sink, lathering them with soapy froth and soaking the suds with glassy water. The scent from the pot of sweetened onions with rosemary, sage and thyme had your mouth salivating in anticipation of what was to come. 
“What's cooking, good looking?” you smiled at him softly, gesturing with your chin to the pot on the stove. He froze up, his ears tinting darker with the shade of pink. 
“J-Just a mirepoix,” he stuttered out, prompting you to shake your head and offer him a soft laugh in response. Taking the extinguished cigarette out of his lips, he placed the butt in the bin beneath the sink. 
Noticing the tension in his body, you reach up and place a hand on his shoulder to urge him to turn to face you. He meets his gray orbs with yours, a sheepish look on his face as you gaze up into his eyes. 
“You've been off the line for too long, Sanji,” you scrunch your nose up playfully at him, “Lost that flirtatious kitchen charisma and banter, blushing like a bride at the most simple of compliments. What's going on with you?” You graze your fingers along his jaw, leaving a rising layer of goose flesh in its wake. 
“I-It’s-...” Sanji gulped his nerves back, hanging his head with a soft laugh and subtle shake in response, “...It's this stupid apron.” You look down at the apron with a smirk. 
“What about the ‘stupid apron’, Sanji?” you ask with a raised brow before gazing back into his eyes, “Not your color?” He continued smiling and shaking his head at you before looking up through his eyelashes into your questioning and puzzled eyes. 
“To be honest with you,” he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to halt his words from sounding too eager, “I actually love it. Even though it started as a joke, it has actually made a big difference the way I’ve been feeling lately.” He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the ground and snickering, “Stupid, right?” 
Cupping his face, you elevate his head and hum at him in deep contemplation. 
“Not stupid,” you shrug at him, darting your eyes between his and flickering your gaze down to his lips, “Not stupid at all.” His breath hitched in his throat, eyes beginning to fill with hope as you drew your face ever closer to his. 
Closing his eyes, he parted his lips and anticipated feeling yours brush with them. His heart beat in his throat, his ears hearing that drum of hope ringing with his elevated pulse. As he drew his face closer still, the balloon of anticipation was instantly deflated as he felt your lips brush with the apple of his cheek and linger for less than a single second. 
As you withdrew from his cheek, Sanji was left feeling like a complete idiot. He stared vacantly, directly ahead with unblinking eyes and his ego completely deflated. His heart fizzled out like a flame being snuffed by a wet blanket. 
Looking at his vacant expression and the soft blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help yourself. A single, timid kiss was not enough of an indulgence to grant to the blonde cook, in your opinion. You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft kiss on his angular jaw before pressing another on his neck above his pulse and beneath his ear lobe. 
Sanji’s breath hitched, his hands opening and closing in clenched fists and shaking extensions. Gasping, he leant his head to the side and whimpered at the soft touches you were pressing into his skin. His pulse quickened, his breath hitched, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as he argued with himself where to place his hands on you. 
Trailing your lips down to his collarbone, you pressed a sweet and gentle kiss against the bone before clamping your teeth down onto the flesh. Sanji mewled in pleasure at the attention, throwing his head back and drawing up his forearm to his face to catch the damp blood from exiting his nose. His head was dizzy, his lips parting and whining as he felt your tongue swirl around the soft bite to his collar. 
Pulling away from him, you sucked your lips into your mouth and bit-back your smile at his reaction. He slowly drew his eyes down to meet yours, the irises eclipsed by blown pupils and his desire. Giggling at him, you tilted your head to the side and clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your feet. 
Sanji surged his body forward, claiming your cheeks beneath his hands and carding his fingers through your hair the moment his lips descended onto yours. You squeaked in response, immediately placing your hands on Sanji’s hips as he pinned you against the sink with his hips. His kisses were needy, desperate and full of desire. 
As he rotated his chin to deepen the oscillation, you reached up to his shoulder and tapped it twice while gasping in his mouth. He tugged himself away, looking down at you in shock with wide eyes and panting breath.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he began to hastily relay his apologies, “I didn’t mean to do that, truly. The other kisses I get from the crew are usually a little more hasty and less indulgent. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, honest-.”
“-Sanji,” you laugh at him, looking up through half-hooded lashes and brushing your nose with his, “Your mirepoix is going to burn.” 
Immediately, Sanji broke himself away from you and stomped over to the large pot. He grumbled as he stirred the aromatics with a wooden spoon, growling under his breath, “This stupid apron has been nothing but a complete distraction.” You giggled at him as he aggressively began stirring at the pot to salvage the caramelizing vegetables. 
“That’s it,” he tore the apron away from his chest and cast it to the side, “No more kisses in the kitchen. I refuse to have good food spoil because I’ve been getting distracted by soft kisses… sweet kisses…” he trailed off, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette after he rotated the vegetables within the butter. 
Shaking your head, you go and retrieve the apron from where he cast it aside and hung it over the kitchen table. Eyeing him over mischievously, you walk over to him and hold his hips firmly from behind and place one more soft kiss between his shoulder blades. 
“Come find me when you want to put on that stupid apron again, hm?” you utter, releasing his hips and making your way over to the kitchen doorway and out of the room with haste. 
Sanji shook his head with a warm smile and a dark blush. Looking to where you had just left, he sighed deeply and began to focus solely on the meal preparation with no more cause for distraction.
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sceletaflores · 1 day
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younger!pervy!patrick stealing your underwear 18+
i blame @poppy-metal for my nasty patrick zweig thoughts, this is for you bae. also extremely extremely inspired by icon @murdrdocs, your fics changed lives thank you for your service.
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it's pure fucking luck when it happens.
art wouldn't stop complaining about having to take his dirty laundry to the communal room on his dorm floor that housed all the washers and dryers. patrick doesn't know why the fuck he offered to take it up for him in the first place, to shut art up? to make him happy?
who gives a shit anyways cause while he's taking arts stupidly full hamper to the laundry room and following the half-assed directions given to him, he bumps right into someone as soon as he steps foot through the already open door. when he cranes his head around the edge of art's hamper he nearly jumps with fucking joy at what, or more-so who, greets him.
he knew who you were already. art wouldn't stop blowing up his phone with texts about "the hot new chick with an out of this world backhand and a killer fucking rack!". so as soon as he got off the bus in cali and stepped foot in art's cushy dorm room he obviously demanded he take him to one of your matches, and holy fucking shit.
you absolutely obliterate the poor girl on the opposite side of the net. running her up and down the court like a chicken with its head cut off while you stay calm and collected.
he could come just watching your perfect form as you hammer another excellent serve at your opponent, but something has to be said for the fucking outfit you're wearing. the tight tank of your dress does show off your, now proven, killer fucking rack but goddamn that skirt should be illegal. even the flowy pleated fabric can't hide the thick curve of your ass underneath, bouncing as you take off to chase after the ball.
he's white knuckling the edges of his seat the entire match, using every ounce of willpower in his body to not pop a boner in the middle of the fucking stands and even more willpower to not look over at the smug fucking grin plastered on art's face as he watches him. safe to say, you've been on his mind ever since.
now, you stand in front of him holding your own hamper with an apologetic smile on your face.
"shit, i'm so sorry. i didn't even see you." you say, way too chipper for 9 a.m on a sunday.
patrick is the epitome of a cocky, arrogant asshole. he has girls in nearly every state practically begging to choke on his dick without him so much as raising a finger in their direction. he's beyond smooth. he has every sleazy line known to man on the tip of his tongue at all times, yet when he goes to speak he can't manage anything besides a weak mutter of, "s'alright." he mentally punches himself in the balls for letting your bambi eyes and dick sucking lips get the better of him.
you give him a nod and one last friendly smile before stepping around him and making your way down the hallway. patrick watches in damn near agony as you go, ponytail swinging behind you in time with the sway of your hips.
patrick lets out an all suffering groan, dropping his head to his chest in defeat. "fucking dumbass.' he admonishes himself quietly, letting himself wallow in misery before making to take a step forward when suddenly he spots something out of the corner of his eye.
it takes him a few seconds to register just what he's staring at, but when it clicks he nearly has a fucking heart attack. there on the floor lays a pair of lacy white panties, your lacy white panties. it takes him all of a millisecond to drop art's hamper on the floor carelessly and practically dive to snatch them up. as soon as his fingers touch the fabric he can feel himself chubbing up in his sweats. he runs his fingertips over the hem, feeling the familiar rough texture that was snug against your body so recently makes sparks go off near the base of his spine.
when patrick hears lively conversation and footsteps heading his way he shoves the panties in his pocket and snatches art's hamper off the floor to start haphazardly shoving his clothes in the washer.
when he finally re-enters art's dorm room he's met with his best friends face staring at him suspiciously. "what the fuck took you so long?" art questions, brow raised as he watches patrick stumble over to his bed and plop down a little too roughly. patrick's reply is simple.
“got lost."
it's only later, when he's back on the train heading for his latest stop and digging into his pocket in search of his lighter that he feels it. the lacy fabric of your panties still stuffed deep into his pocket. his breath hitches in his throat and before he knows what he's doing he's up like a shot and speed walking to the back of the cart.
he's in the bathroom a mere five seconds before he's ripping his fly down and furiously stroking his hard as steel cock in a cramped train bathroom he can barely stand up fully in. it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he's busting in the fucking sink with your dainty white panties balled up in his fist and held against his nose as he inhales so heavily he might fucking pass out.
patrick has already found, and requested you, on facebook by the time he makes it back to his seat.
-------------
taglist!
@yuenity @callsign-artemis @ebodebo (who each put up with me ranting about this so wonderfully love you guys mwah)
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luveline · 17 hours
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bombshell finds tickets to a russian movie thing sitting in spencer’s desk at work and they’re about to like run out (?) so she presents them to spencer and asks him on a date and pretends that she didn’t just pull them out of spencers desk in that bombshell way
You’re looking for gum. If Spencer were at his desk, you’d politely beg for a stick and he’d give it to you, but he’s not here, so you must search. 
You sit in his seat, slinking down as he does with poor posture, your kitten heels hitting the spine of a book kept under the desk. Your dress’ skirt rises up your thighs, the fabric at your neck pulls, but you have bigger problems. You’re feeling the weird franticness of unspent energy and only a stick of gum is gonna fix you. 
He has a drawer full of things, neatness traded for space. Blue and pink paper clips in an arrowhead shaped box. Push pins of all colours, their box more ordinary. He has a travel book on indigenous North American birds with stamps held between the pages, a plastic bottle cap, train stubs from Quantico to the station outside of his apartment and a bottle of ibuprofen missing half of its contents. 
Your fingers dig around for the familiar shape of a packet of gum, hesitating thoughtfully against the thread of a thicker cardstock. 
You pull a cream envelope from the desk and, perhaps wrongfully, unveil the contents: two tickets to see any Russian flick at the foreign language theatre free of charge (if you buy a large drink). They expire tonight. 
You press them to your chest and spin in Spencer’s chair without any regard for whoever might see you slouching. Across the office with his hair out of his face and a smile bordering lackadaisical stands your favourite. He even has a pencil in hand. He likes to underline things in the books he reads for your benefit. It’s the pencil that decides your next move. 
You stand up, brushing down your nice dress that he seems to like, a black cotton with thin pinstripes settling nicely just above your knees. You check your lipstick in the black reflection of his sleeping monitor, buzzing. 
He’s watching you when you turn back. You hide the tickets behind your hip and begin a light walk to his side, the chug of the printer a constant hum you can feel in your shoes. 
“What’s up?” he asks. 
You tilt your head toward your shoulder ever so slightly. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure.” He squints. “You’re acting strange.” 
“Suspicious,” you correct. 
“That, too.” 
“How come you let me hold your hand?” 
Spencer doesn’t hide his surprise at your question very well. His eyes turn deer in the headlights, then down to the printer. “What do you mean?” he asks. 
“When we first met, you wouldn’t shake my hand. And that’s okay,” —your smile is loving in the hope that he finds your question as the curiosity it is and not an interrogation— “I’m just wondering what changed.” 
“I was distracted.” He’s talking about the first time you took his hand, the two of you on the way to the office. “You stopped me from being late.” 
“Right, but I should’ve asked and I didn’t. And now we hold hands all the time.” You take a half step back. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just wondering.”
“Nobody’s held my hand in a really long time. And you’re mostly clean.” 
“Mostly!” you laugh, giving him a guilty smile. “I’m super clean, I just forget how gross door handles are sometimes.”
You have embarrassed him, in a way. It’s really not what you meant to do, not when you’re about to ask him on a date. 
Ever since you started your official position at the BAU, you and Spencer have grown closer, but there’s a difference between flirting because he’s lovely and flirting because you want him to be your boyfriend. (Not that he knows what you want.) You shouldn’t have started with the hand holding thing. 
“Spencer.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Will you go on a date with me?” You present him with the movie tickets. “Got these, they expire tonight…”
“Are those from my desk?” he asks, taking the tickets from you to look over closely. 
“I’d love to go with you, unless you’re gonna take someone else, which is fine.” You embarrass yourself a little, even though you’re not, hoping it makes up for the hand-holding investigation. “Yeah, they’re from your desk. Sorry. I really wanted a stick of gum, my– my nervous energy is through the roof today.” 
Spencer frowns at you again. “How come?” he asks softly. 
“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes.” 
And that’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to him. Your perfect mask is broken, and Spencer doesn’t look at you any differently. “Do you actually wanna go to the movies?” he asks. 
“Only if I’m not stealing you away from somebody else.” 
“There’s no one else.”
Spencer abruptly turns his attention to the printer, where he collects his copies and shuffles them into a straight, neat pile. 
You recover quickly, though inside your heart is a stuttering mess. “I should hope not,” you say. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll bring hand sanitiser and you can hold my hand through the previews.” 
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jakesangel · 2 days
Text
sitting on jakes lap ><
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sitting in jake's lap would happens quite often. doing any activity, in front of the members, in his dorm, outside, literally anywhere and anytime. facing him or not he loves feeling ur weight on his legs.
tho jake would be shy at first, he didn't know how to ask you to sit on his lap without making things weird or making you think of him in a way that he isn't. so when u got comfortable by simply putting ur legs on his legs on a movie night, he felt like his dream came true. he would obviously put his hands on ur legs n draw patterns lovingly. he would love it even more if u wear skirts cause first that means ure really comfortable w him, two, your skin is so so soft to him n he wants to feel your warmth.
one night full of giggles and kisses, you tried doing your makeup on jake face. he also knew what it meant, having a chance to have you close to him. so he would purposely have weird posture to make it harder for you, make silly faces or even not keeping his hands to him. even if u are holding his face in one hand and doing his makeup w the other, the task is munch more complicated w him teasing you. so there you are, your thighs over his, his hands on your waist and jake, finally, is having you on his lap. his pretty baby, right in front of his face. and furthermore focused on his. he truly thinks he is in the seventh sky. he wants to kiss you and hug you closer to his body but he knows he's been a pain in the ass to get what he wants, so this time, he stays still and fully take in the moment. you, on the other hand, don't understand why jakes eyes are finally closed n why he is suddenly pliant for you to apply ur eyeshadow. you also don't understand why he just just smiling or sighing in contentment.
after this, he would never let you sit anywhere else but his lap. you need to do your makeup ? he is right there to be your seat. need to do your homework ? lemme him see your physics homework, he'll do them. you want to watch tv ? he would even prepare the plaid and the snacks.
he wouldn't mind having you on his lap in front the members either. the first time, you got shy but the members know how physical jake can gets. almost thanking you for being his physically-touch-giver instead of them. so it didn't bother them nor him. he would even get offended seeing you sit next to him, and not on him, giving you confused puppy eyes. but jakes gets what he wants so he will (ᵎᵎ) move you in front of them, making you flustered. my shy baby, don't you worry about them, they're so jealous of me having this pretty girl on my lap, he would whisper to your ear, making your blush red-er.
when he feels 'loving' and/or clingy, he would always tell you soft words with loving touch. he would kiss your temple if you aren't facing him, his hands drawing heart on your thighs. if your facing him, he would hum, your arms around his neck, him taking in your hair scent. i love having you this close, baby. it's when i feel the safest, he would say hugging you closer to his. you smell so good for me, my pretty princess, he adds his eyes closing. or he would just convey his words w a kiss. a long a deep one, one arm around ur figure the other guiding ur face to his, his hand softly holding your chin.
notes : none ><
@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring
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yayakoishii · 2 days
Note
can we get some drunk love confessions from sanji?
Sober (Pt. 1) | Sanji x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader
Word Count: 2k
Genre/Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Insecure Sanji; there's a scene that might feel like dub-con to some but it's consensual from both sides– please read at your own discretion! ♡
A/n: thank you so much for this prompt anon,, I love drunk confessions myself so I was excited to write this!! I wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be confessing or Sanji, so I decided to make it Sanji this time since I already wrote a fic where reader drunk confessed. I hope you enjoy this ♡
Part 2
also available on ao3!
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The shouting on the ship got your attention from where you were playing cards with Usopp. Across the deck, Zoro and Sanji were fighting again. Even in the dark cloak of nighttime, they sure had the energy to fight without missing a beat. You sighed to yourself then decided that it would be better if you went over and distracted Sanji so the fight would end.
Except, before you had even stood up, the screaming stopped and the two were now stomping towards Zoro's stash of sake. You raised an eyebrow as you saw them sit down across each other, still glaring. You hurried over to them after telling Usopp that you'll be back in a while.
"What's going on?" You asked quietly to Nami and Chopper who had been watching over the two.
"They're having a drinking contest," the navigator replied matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows shot up in shock. Why would Sanji challenge Zoro to a drinking challenge of all things? "Zoro challenged him. And of course your lover boy couldn't back down."
"Nami!" You hissed at her, cheeks flushing. "Don't say that so close to him!"
Nami gave you a deadpan look. She still lowered her voice for your sake, "Sanji is dense as fuck. I bet all my money he wouldn't figure out your feelings from such a simple term."
"I'd still rather not risk it," you muttered underneath your breath before turning your attention to the drinking challenge in front of you. The two of them had already managed to down more than half of the first bottle. Illuminated by the lights on the deck, you could see the slight flush starting to rise on Sanji's cheeks.
The blonde chef could hold his liquor well but going against Zoro was probably equivalent to digging his own grave.
"This is not gonna end well," you sighed. "I'll just go finish my card game with Usopp. Are you gonna watch over these two or…?"
"They're paying me to play referee," she shrugged. You rolled your eyes and bit down the smile trying to come up. Chopper announced that he was going to sleep and to call him if something happened. You both waved him goodnight. Giving Nami a thumbs up, you went back to your seat too. Usopp was staring intensely at his own cards. You stared at him for a few seconds.
"You looked at my cards, didn't you?" You said flatly. Usopp's eyes widened and he started denying but gave up when you started shuffling the deck again. "Let's play one short game before turning in for the night."
You could still hear Zoro and Sanji fighting in the background, the noise just incoherent enough that you couldn't quite make out the words. You could tell Sanji was steadily getting more and more drunk as his voice started getting a little higher and shrill as he shouted. Even in the dead of the night, the Thousand Sunny was as lively as ever. The thought made you smile to yourself as you triumphantly showed your card sets to Usopp, finishing the game.
"You're suspiciously good at this," Usopp complained as he started packing up the cards.
"Be happy I didn't bet money on this," you grinned and leaned back in your chair. "You'd be a penniless beggar otherwise."
Usopp muttered something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. The day's exhaustion was starting to catch up and you decided that it was a good time to go to sleep. You had the early morning lookout shift anyway.
"Goodnight," Usopp called out as he left. You tilted your head up and down to acknowledge his words but stayed in your seat for a few more minutes. The shouting had ceased sometime ago and the low murmurs of conversation washed over you like a lullaby.
"(Y/n)!" Nami's shout of your name startled you awake from your half-asleep state.
"What is it?" You asked with a yawn as you made your way over. "Is their match over?"
"I had to stop them cause I don't think either of them plans to stop," she frowned. "I don't know about Zoro but Sanji would definitely die of alcohol poisoning if this goes on."
You laughed for a second but froze when you realised that Sanji was staring intensely at you. It made you self conscious and you automatically carded a hand through your hair to ensure it wasn't sticking out awkwardly.
"You should take him back while I squeeze my money out of Zoro," Nami winked at you and ran after the swordsman who had already wandered off somewhere. She was gone before you had even finished nodding.
"Alright, Sanji, come on," you smiled down at him, holding your hands out so he could stand up with the support. The chef stopped staring at your face and switched to staring at your hands instead. From your angle, you couldn't quite see his full face but the red splotches on his ears and cheeks were enough indication of how drunk he was. You waited for a few seconds. After a few beats of silence, Sanji placed his own cold hands into yours. You immediately covered them, trying to warm them as you pulled him up. The blonde must have been more drunk than you had thought because he lost his footing and nearly crashed into you.
Thankfully, you realised just in time and instead of the two of you falling on the deck, Sanji had crashed into your arms. Chests pressing, now he was the one looking down at you with a half-lidded gaze. The proximity resulted in Sanji's smell enclosing you, and you flushed at how one of his hands had sneaked around your waist in the confusion somehow.
"So beautiful," he whispered. Your heart was thudding faster, almost like it was trying to escape the confines of your ribcage. You nervously laughed it off.
"Alright, you've had too much to drink," you joked and tried to separate but Sanji's grip did not loosen. He always fought with his legs so you tended to forget that his arms were just as strong. Fingers spreading apart, his hand splayed across the small of your back. The cold touch over your shirt made goosebumps rise on your skin but you were distracted by the way Sanji's tongue was lightly grazing over his lips. The soft pink seemed to be shining in the light.
"This must be a dream," he spoke quietly, seemingly more to himself than you. You stayed still, praying that Sanji couldn't hear your crazy heart rate and that he would forget this tomorrow. (Or well, maybe he shouldn't forget this. You didn't know which option was more appealing at the moment.) "You smell divine, my love."
"Y- You too?" You squeaked out in panic, wanting to hide your face but your hands were trapped between your bodies, resting on his shoulders. Sanji laughed at your words– a soft, genuine, relaxed laugh that you didn't often get to hear. It made your embarrassment quell down and your heart felt warm. Sanji wasn't wrong. Something about this whole night seemed to feel hazy and distant, like a dream. He would only say such words and smile like that around you in a dream, right?
"I wish this wasn't a dream," his words sent something cold down your insides. "If only this was real…"
You paused and looked up at him. Pushing your body on the tip of your toes, you leaned into his ear and asked quietly, "What if it wasn't a dream? What would you do?"
You didn't know what had possessed you but it felt like the right thing to do, the only natural question to ask after his previous words.
"So many things I've wanted to do for so long," his words were still quiet, almost like he was afraid to break the tranquillity of the night. You stepped back and Sanji let you this time. His expression seemed broken and his eyes looked glassy.
You had never actually seen Sanji drunk. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and he usually didn't drink much to ensure he could take care of anyone else who was. (He always said it was just for the ladies but you knew he was secretly looking out for everyone even though he wouldn't admit it.) He never really cried in front of you either. The fact that a drunk Sanji was sad and broken was news to you.
"Sanji," you didn't realise you had cupped his cheeks until you had already done it. Something about that desperate look on his face had spiked an intense urge in you to hold him close. "Is everything alright?"
"If this was reality," his voice wavered, unconfident and so unlike the usual him, "you wouldn't look at me like you're doing right now. If this was real, you wouldn't be in my arms right now. You would never love me the way I love you and you would never see me as something beyond a crewmate."
Your breath hitched at the words, fingers accidentally pressing harder into Sanji's jaws. He didn't seem to feel it because a tear slipped down his cheek and onto your hand, the liquid trailing between your touch.
"That's okay," he blinked, a few more droplets falling down or getting stuck in his eyelashes. "As long as I can hold you like this in a dream… that's enough for me. I won't ask more of you if this was real. All that you give me is already more than I deserve. After all, for someone like me… There's no way you would fall for someone like me. And that's okay. Because you deserve someone better. But I'm so selfish. I wish I could keep you all to myself. I wish I could hold you like this in reality, and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could make you smile all the time and be a shoulder for you to cry upon on your bad days. I wish I could k- kiss you and tell you over and over… how much I love you."
It felt like a swarm of butterflies had suddenly erupted in your chest. The fluttering feeling was ticklish and you couldn't quite form words and you could only gape at Sanji. He still seemed to believe this was a dream because his other hand cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed against it, gentle and warm, no longer cold after all the proximity in you two. Before you could say anything, he dipped down and captured your lower lip in between his own, gently caressing it with his tongue. The sudden sensation made you erupt in flames, the blush reaching the tips of your extremities.
"S- Sanji," you breathed out shakily when he let your lip go to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wanted this. You had wanted it for so, so long– but not like this. You drew your head away before he could successfully infiltrate the warm, wet cavern of your mouth and instead gave him a flushed smile. His eyes still looked glossy but there was an unmistakable softness in them.
You would normally have told yourself that he was just drunk and didn't mean it. But there was a part of you that knew it wasn't the effect of the alcohol. Sanji was unbearably honest when he was drunk. His true feelings were what's making him sad. Denying them would be both idiotic and disrespectful, but you couldn't accept them either. The words he spoke weren't ones he had decided to say himself. He thought this was a dream.
"Tell me this tomorrow morning," you whispered, pressing a gentle and slightly wet kiss on his cheek. "Tell me you love me when you're sober. Tell it to me, when this is real and no longer a dream. I'll wait for you to tell me when you feel ready for it."
Sanji stared down at you, his eyes starstruck and in an expression of awe. The sight made your heart clench but you told yourself that he will do it. He will tell you his feelings again, when he is in full consciousness. For that, you had to let him go right now.
"And then we'll do everything that we have wanted to do for so long, yeah?"
°•❀•°
All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
★ Taglist:
@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004
Part 2 now available!
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hanasnx · 2 days
Text
" DOUBLE BUBBLE DISCO QUEEN " — katsuki bakugou.
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem bratty pink!reader ノ pussy whipped bakugou ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ degradation: f receiving ノ reader has pink hair and pink style.
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KATSUKI BAKUGOU didn’t know what to make of you at first. He’d never admit you were intimidating, but your commitment to one color made him nauseous. Pink was everything he saw you sport, as if you couldn’t have a style outside of it. Even your hair sprouted from your scalp in a soft pink shade. Regardless of his initial apprehension, somehow he was roped into a relationship with you. Now he carries your many bags, opens doors for you, holds your hand when you start yapping too much. You annoy him, and yet he sticks with you.
He’s come to respect you, and even like you a little bit. Not that you give him any choice. He can’t be fooled by your soft appearance, you’re just as domineering as he is. You’re spoiled rotten, and high maintenance as hell. It’s taken him loads of tries to get it right, to treat you exactly how you believe you deserve to. It’s difficult—next to impossible—but you make it worth it, don’t you?
When you spread those legs, all pretty and eager for him, things go quiet. For once, things go his way. Katsuki’s never considered himself to be a pussy-driven guy until he met you. Suddenly, he’s letting you bully him into all kinds of things just for a glimpse of that kitty. He’d feel shame if his mouth wasn’t watering right now staring down at those drippy lips, open and waiting for him.
“C’mon, Katsu. Wanna feel you.” you whine with a coy smile to your lips, impatient and brows upturned. Just as you wiggle your hips enticingly, mean and callused hands envelope them, pinning your ass to the mattress.
Gripping the base, he feeds himself into your hole, sniffing out the give until you moan just from the stretch, and he sighs with goddamn relief. As if he’s finally getting payback for everything you throw at him. You’re a damn bitch, and you know he thinks so, but getting this tight cunt gives you a blank slate. After he’s good and fucked his fill, he’ll be ready to take your attitude again. For now, he keeps a palm over that smart mouth of yours, just so you don’t ruin the moment.
“Mmf—“ he grunts, scooping an arm under your knee to pick your leg up, giving himself a little more room inside you. “Even this princess pussy’s a brat…Clenching down on me.” he speaks through his teeth, rutting in and out to hollow out a space for himself. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” A bold-faced lie, but you take it anyway, nodding to him. Anything to get him to keep going, anything to get him to make you loosen up so he can fuck you for real. His palm over your mouth remains, and you smell his sweet scent of sweat.
“Running me ‘round, dangling this cunt in front of me knowing I’ll do whatever for it. Tch, you’re so damn annoying.” His words in your ear sends a powerful shudder down your spine, fluttering your eyelashes. You slick, lubing up his entry as he keeps pushing in and in. Even without seeing his face, breathing hard through your nose over his third pinky knuckle, you can feel him grin next to you. You know it's wolfish just from the sound of his reply, “You like hearing that shit, huh?” His husky voice grates your ears and you whimper pitifully under his weight.
His hips increase their fervor, getting excited over the new room in your hole, setting an immediate bruising pace just to be a jerk.
“For someone so spoiled, struttin’ ‘round like you can buy anything you want with daddy’s money, you sure like gettin’ called out on it.” That's what he's here for.
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@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.
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vent-stink · 1 day
Text
When Seonghwa got mad at y/n
a/n: I'm sorry I've been neglecting you all! Here's my apology angst c/w: angst, hurt/comfort pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader, cat hybrid!san x reader w/c: 1.6k
Y/n didn't realize Seonghwa was in a bad mood.
At this point, even though she felt bad, it was routine of him to break up with partners because they didn't like her. He'd come home sad, and y/n would cuddle his sorrows away.
This time was different.
This time, Seonghwa came home with a sad aura, but clenched fists. No, he was frustrated, so frustrated. Why were people so closed minded? Hybrids have been a part of society for so long and even if not everyone cares for their hybrids the same way, the extent of his care had been normalized enough by now, he thought. Yet he hadn't met anyone who could accept it.
Y/n wasn't his girlfriend; he didn't want her to be nor did she want to be. He loves her and takes care of her. Sure, hybrids could be in relationships with their owners or with other people, but that just wasn't their relationship. Why was that so hard to understand?
He wasn't mad at y/n, he could never truly be mad at y/n, but in that moment he was just so frustrated. It was moment of weakness, but he seriously resented her, if only for a minute.
But it was in that minute that she crawled over to him, unapologetic smile adorning her face (because she had nothing to feel bad for, he had made sure to reassure her every time before), as she asked for his attention, hands pawing at his trousers.
"Stop it. Move, y/n." His voice was stern and cold and she felt her hair stand on end. "Daddy? Are you okay-?"
Hearing her voice, her sultry, sweet, beautiful voice, he snapped, "GET OFF, Y/N. GET OFF." She flinched away from him, looking at him a little scared, "D-daddy‐?" "I'M SO TIRED OF THIS, Y/N. YOU'RE ALWAYS- YOU'RE ALWAYS THERE. YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE!"
He was yelling, really yelling. No one had ever spoken to y/n like that before, especially not Seonghwa. Sure, he'd scolded her, but he'd never so much as punished her let alone raised his voice like this.
She trembled as he yelled at her, curled up into a ball as she was frozen in fear, waiting for him to finish. "It's like ever since I adopted you, I haven't been able to think of anything but you. I can't be selfish. I can't enjoy myself or be loved for a single fucking second-"
"HYUNG!" San yelled, coming down to hug y/n and shield her from Seonghwa. She was shaking, tears running down her face as she whimpered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Honestly, Seonghwa had yelled at San like this before, and Y/n was spoiled so he initially had been enjoying her get a little scared. It was only natural for a harsher scolding at least once or twice... but this felt too harsh. San stopped feeling smug very quickly as he came down to comfort their princess.
San's presence snapped Seonghwa out of his rage, allowing him to actually see how y/n was reacting to his anger. He broke his own heart knowing that he made her look like this, trembling with tears falling down her face, terrified noises leaving her. Oh my god, what was I thinking?
"Y/n, I-" he reached out to her but she wailed, running to San's room and slamming the door shut behind her and burying herself in his sheets.
Seonghwa watched her run and then looked at San helplessly, only to be met with San's angry hiss as the feline followed after his mate to cuddle her as she cried.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Seonghwa could still feel his emotions hot in his blood, so he sighed, sitting on his recliner as he waited for his heart to settle.
He didn't realize how badly he had fucked up until he'd gone back to his room. Y/n hadn't come to sleep. She'd always always slept with him in his bed at night. She'd never been able to sleep at night without her owner.
Yet, right now, as he laid awake, waiting for her to crawl into his arms and tuck herself under his chin, it was almost 1am, and his arms were empty.
He hadn't realized how used to her he'd gotten. He felt cold, even with his blanket tucked up to his chin, body crunched into a ball, he felt like his body was trembling. Now he couldn't sleep without her.
Obviously, he couldn't stand to be like this. He got out of his bed and went to San's room, knocking lightly on the door. He thought y/n might be awake. He thought there'd be no way that she could sleep without him.
But there was no answer. "Y/n?" he called softly. Nothing. "San?" A grunt.
Seonghwa opened the door a peek and first saw San's piercing glare. It wasn't the first time he'd been on the receiving end of it, San got pissy with him all the time, but this was the first time it was over someone else. The next thing he saw was his little kitten wrapped in his big kitten's arms, head tucked into his chest as her chest raised and fell in a steady rhythm.
She was asleep.
"She cried until she was so exhausted she couldn't stay awake anymore," San said quietly to not wake her up. Seonghwa felt his heart lurch harder than it ever had before. "I'm not giving her to you, if that's what you're here for."
"No... I don't want to wake her," Seonghwa whispered, "I just can't... I couldn't sleep." San didn't reply. He wasn't in the mood to give Seonghwa consoling words. He'd used them all on y/n already.
Both of his hybrids were upset at him, rightfully so. He sighed, sitting in San's chair that faced the bed. San eyed him before letting out a sigh and cuddling farther into y/n to sleep.
Seonghwa just watched them until he felt his eyes droop and sleep overtook him.
He woke up to a sniffle. It started him awake. The first heartbreaking thing he saw was y/n's face scrunched up in a sob, fresh tears falling down her face.
"Y/n-ah," he croaked, not even letting himself fully wake up before he was on his knees in front of her, "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean it! I..."
"I- I'm sorry... I made daddy's life so hard. You haven't been able to be happy since I'm here-" "NO!" he exclaimed loudly, making San jolt awake, but the big cat went ignored, "I didn't mean it. Daddy was just upset. I was just sad, I didn't mean to say those things. I didn't mean a single word."
She didn't believe him and Seonghwa could tell as she covered her face, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry they don't like me. You never should have brought me here. I'm so terrible."
"Y/nnie, please," he choked, "I'm so sorry baby. I was feeling sad because my partner left me... but I don't need anyone. I only need you and Sannie, my love. I- Everyday, you make me feel so loved, more loved than I have ever felt from even my own mother..."
Y/n sniffed, looking at him properly, but wearily.
"I didn't mean a single thing I said. It was all in anger. Like- like when Sannie says he's mad at you and won't share his clothes, but he still shares them anyway...," he reasoned desperately.
"You should send me away...," she cried quietly. Seonghwa finally broke completely, letting out a sob, bowing his face to the ground, "You are my most important girl in the world, y/n-ah." His voice was cracking and his pain was agonizing, extremely evident from his voice, "No one loves me more than you, and I can't live without you. I can't sleep without you in my arms. Even if you wanted to leave me, I am the one that's selfish. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. I want you to get so mad at me for yelling at you. I'll make it up to you forever. I'll buy you so many gifts and treats. I just- I need you to know that I love you so much."
She sniffed, getting out of the bed to kneel in front of him as well. When he heard her change positions, Seonghwa looked up to see her looking at him with teary eyes. A wail escaped her throat as she slipped herself into his arms, sobbing into the fabric of his t-shirt.
His arms wrapped around her so tight she would have suffocated if she was thinking about it. He wasn't loud, but his tears slipped down his face and onto her hair, "No one matters to me more than you. You're my baby. My sweet, y/nnie. I'm sorry, I got upset, but I won't do it again." "I th-thought you d-didn-n't want m-me, any-nymore!" she hiccupped between sobs.
"No my princess. Even if I'm only with you for the rest of my life and everyone else leaves, I'll be happy." San wanted to protest, but he didn't because he was too tired and because he knew y/n needed reassurance more than he needed to reaffirm his existence in the house. She was soft. He'd live.
"I'm sorry, daddy," she whimpered. Seonghwa pulled away to cup her face and press soft kisses all over her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I meant it when I told you that you and San are a part of me. No one is more important than us. We're a family, okay? You're my family."
Y/n sniffed and hugged him so tight, nodding into his chest. "You promise?" "Mhmm," Seonghwa hummed, "I'll never let you think otherwise again. Even if daddy gets mad at you again, I promise I will never make you think for a second that you belong anywhere else, but here with me."
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i-cant-sing · 2 days
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Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain
HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.
Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.
And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!
Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:
So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.
It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.
And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.
With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.
But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.
Or fake a reaction.
You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.
"Bruce I-"
"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"
You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.
Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."
He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.
Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."
-
He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.
Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.
Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)
Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)
After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.
Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.
Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.
"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.
After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.
Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.
After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.
Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.
Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.
So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.
Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.
And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.
"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.
"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.
"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.
"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.
Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!
Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"
You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.
But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"
"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"
You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.
You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"
"Or what?"
Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?
You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.
Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.
"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.
You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"
"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.
Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.
They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.
Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.
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thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol
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