#as much as he'd hate to admit it and will grumble about it

[academicfrogz]

Volt and Eddie Headcanons bc they are consuming my life

SPOILERS for eddie and volt's routes and realization

Volt:

- Somewhere over 6ft

- largely hairless due to his hair being electricity

- atrophic scars around his joints, almost doll like, and hypertrophic scars in a starburst pattern from his sternum

- a creature (fangs, blue 'blood' once realized, sometimes will do something that he really shouldn't be able to and then it works (looking at a dead lightbulb really hard and it working again for example))

- can tie up his hair if he really wants too with anything insulated but perfers it down

- through the story he get more and more pale with a blue undertone and eyebags but keeps routine best he can despite feeling drained so he looks better than eddie pre-reset (barely)

- lean, he has abs and strength just cant utalize it for prolonged periods causing him to be on the weaker side beyond some core strength

- he struggles less with chronic pain than Eddie (partially cause he takes slightly better care of himself) but more chronic illness, he has very limited practical motor skills and gets exhausted after practically no physical activity. He also has dizzy spells and faints during power outages/shorts.

- post-realization he'd probably be diagnosed with something like POTS but i'm calling it an undiagnosable condition that anyone can project onto

- if you make him hate you he'll cut you off, hes very overprotective especially when it comes to the people he cares about, but moreso he hates the way people treat him and Eddie as though one is more palatable than the other because they both play such a large role (while also struggling with codependency)

- he fiddles with stuff while he does anything, his own hands, his jacket, his jewelry, his 'hair', hes very hard to make him still unless he is terrified (freeze fear response)

- a flirt (annoying Eddie often)

- can dance (if he's careful), cannot sing which is partially why certain people are still allowed to perform

Eddie:

- round 5'10

- Something of a hairy guy, wire hair translating to thin hairlike rubber fibers on his arms/legs/stomach/face

- MASSIVE joint pain, like constant and chronic, chronic fatigue (just like me fr) and he also has chronic migraines plus a bad back.

- While he doesn't have fainting spells like Volt he is shit at realizing he needs to eat/sleep and has fainted from lack of care before.

- Hes got good fine motor skills but his hands shake after too long without sleep (which he puts off because it never makes him feel less tired).

- not very scared up but he has a smaller matching starburst scar on his back mirroring Volts

- hes well built, especially his upper body, but most of his muscle is practical so he doesn't have visible abs

- hes got super dark veins and constant eyebags, over the course of the story he gets paler and looses some significant muscle/weight making him look sick, he also is constantly tense pre-reset, looking at nothing and zoning out with pinched eyebrows and even worse eybags

- he has a slight drinking problem, in part because of his chronic pain, but he's largely functional and Volt is good at cutting him off just by looking at him all concerned

- hates being treated like glass but very understanding when it comes to Volt because of his own fears over loosing him (will grumble anyway though)

- his bones are metal and if he uses an electrical current he can make himself magnetic (because i think its funny)

- gifted Volt his bracelets and has matching necklaces on purpose (stubbornly refusing to admit such)

- post realization he would probably be diagnosed with arthritis and chronic migraines but knowing the system he probably would never get a diagnosis for his fatigue

- Would probably smoke pre-Volt creation but stops because Volt hates the smell

- can sing, cannot dance

- also a creature (sharp molars, post realization blue blood, can pretty much touch pure electricity and be fine)

- Eddie quits drinking post realization so he doesn't fuck up his pain meds

Boaf:

- both love kissing but Eddie doesn't like pda so they instead do a lot of generally being in each other's space

- neither are very jealous people and are pretty secure, will say they don't like people the other is hanging around if they have reason to though

- switches (pun intended)

- definitely reopen the breaker box in the human world

- probably wouldn't get married on paper unless other realized objects recommend it however practically everyone who is privy to their relationship knows they basically are already married

- they foster kittens and have a foster fail ginger cat named copper

- both are wildly stubborn Volt is just way better at pretending he's not

thats all for now methinks

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Leverage Redemption S02E04 The Date Night Job.

[deathofacupid]

ceo!sukuna x bubbly!barista!reader, i fear it's my new obsession. banner credits to @/uzmacchiato. both inspired by, and dedicated to @salsakiyoomi! hope you like it, pretty <33

ceo!sukuna, a man whose resting face could curdle milk, hates physical touch. like, he'd rather wrestle a rabid badger than endure a friendly pat on the back.

his employees? mere rodents scurrying around his corporate cheese grater, their sole purpose to make his existence slightly less agonizing.

of course, they mostly failed at that. they were less "competent assistants" and more "walking disasters with access to staplers." his day was basically a high-stakes game of "clean up the employee-induced apocalypse," and he was running out of patience, and more importantly, employees.

ex-employees, he'd mentally correct, adding them to his ever-growing blacklist. he'd personally ensure they'd be lucky to get a job at a clown college.

and yet, despite this raging misanthropy and deep-seated aversion to human contact, he ends up craving your arms. the irony was thicker than his expense reports.

"'kuna?" you ask, peering up from your couch fort. "how was your day?"

a grumble is his reply. you've deciphered his grumbles into a complex language, and this one translates to "hell on earth."

you open your arms, and he promptly transforms into a sentient, grumpy weighted blanket, flopping onto you with the grace of a falling grand piano.

you wheeze, but you're used to it. he’s basically a cat, except instead of knocking things off tables, he knocks the air out of your lungs.

"don't even get me started," he mutters, his voice muffled by your chest. he sounds like a toddler who just lost his favorite pacifier. "do you know how many people i had to terminate today?"

"fired, you mean? sukuna, you mean fired, right?" you’re picturing a corporate bloodbath, and it’s not a pretty image. he waves a dismissive hand, which, due to his position on top of you, almost knocks your phone out of your hand.

"yeah, yeah. whatever. they were basically performance art pieces of incompetence."

"okay, but, like, how many?"

"enough." he then changes the subject. "what about you, flower? how was the café?"

your mood instantly does a 180. "oh! it was great! nice and slow. but this one guy came in, all grumpy about his coffee. said he could make it better."

"he did?" sukuna raises an eyebrow, a feat considering he's basically face-planting into your chest. "what happened?"

"told him to go do it, then," you say, grinning. "and then kicked him out."

"that's my girl," he says, a rare flicker of approval in his eyes. "did you throw his coffee at him first?"

"i considered it, but i didn't want to waste good coffee."

he's impressed, that much he'll admit. he shifts, crushing you further. "sukuna!"

"i've been away from my girl all day," he grumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "let me have this."

for a man who supposedly treated physical contact like it was kryptonite, he sure seemed to enjoy clinging to you. maybe he just needed a you-shaped stress ball, you think. and maybe, just maybe, he was secretly a giant softie, hidden under layers of corporate armor and general grumpiness.

or maybe he just liked your couch. either way, you were trapped, and honestly, you weren't complaining. too much.

general taglist: @jeonwiixard. (i didn't forget this time 👩‍❤️‍👩)

[secretlovezz]

Your Muse

Eddie Munson x Artist!reader

Summary: Eddie finds out what the little secret you’ve been hiding in your sketchbook is.

Warnings: Just fluff I think

Wordcount: 2,332

Eddie knows that you love to draw.

Since the day he met you, you have always had a pen or pencil in hand, doodling whenever the opportunity presented itself. Worksheets, no matter the class, filled to the brim with messy sketches of whatever came to your mind. Palms covered in hearts and flowers from when you got bored listening to your teachers' lessons. But most of the time you would dig into your backpack to retrieve the mysterious little black book that you spent most of your time drawing in.

It was a thing that you never let anyone look at what filled the pages of your sketchbook, not even Eddie had seen the inside of it, and as your best friend he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about what exactly you were hiding. On more than one occasion, though he hates to admit it, he had thought about taking a peek at the, what he presumed were promiscuous, pages of art you spent so much of your precious time working on but the thought alone made him feel an inkling of guilt that he just couldn't get passed.

“What are you drawin’ this time, huh?” Eddie’s question ends in a prolonged yawn; he’s laid back comfortably in your bed trying to take a nap but the scratch of your pencil against rough paper keeps his curiosity piqued enough to overcome his exhaustion from school for the time being. He stretches like a cat along the length of your bed and his feet dangle off the edge, toes wiggling after being still for so long.

You're sitting at your desk hunched over in a way Eddie is sure must be uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows his posture isn't much better. He tries to glance over the top of your shoulder for a chance to see what exactly your drawing but he wasn’t nearly quiet enough because you’re quick to shut the book before his eyes can even break over the hill of your shoulder and all he can do is grunt in annoyance in correspondence to your secrecy. A deep rumble releases from the depth of his chest before he roughly plants his face into your pillow. The smell of your shampoo is enough to make him forget his previous irritation.

Spinning in your chair to face him you smile in amusement, “Why are you so nosey? Wayne didn’t teach you to mind your manners or somethin’?” You're teasing him and he knows it, he lifts his hand just enough to flash you his middle finger and the melody of the giggle you let out in response to his antics makes the beat of his heart accelerate to an alarming rhythm and his stomach flutter with the most vicious of butterflies. He's never been more grateful for a pillow because he’s sure that the heat that’s spreading along the skin of his face is causing his cheeks to redden an embarrassing amount. He can’t believe that just the sound of your laugh has him practically falling to your feet in absolute devotion. He turns his head to glare at you but finds that the glowing smile stretched along your lips, lifting the apple of your cheek which further rounds your face, has his own face softening into a gentle grin that almost matches the brightness of yours. 

Eddie continues to look at you even as you turn away to gently guide your fingers along the worn leather of your sketchbook, there is a look of uncertainty that flashes in your eyes and if Eddie wasn’t paying close attention to you like he always does he wouldn’t have noticed. He makes an effort to change the subject, “We should order in some pizza or something, I’m fuckin’ starving.” 

“Aren’t you always?” Eddie swats your thigh just barley from how you spin your chair to avoid his hand, grumbling words you assume to be comebacks.

You laugh again and despite your previous comment you get up to make the call for your usual pizza with no argument, somewhat of a tradition when Eddie comes over, and dig into the bag Eddie had haphazardly tossed on the foot of your bed when he first got to your place for his wallet; you paid last time so it’s his turn.

The door to your room creaks almost eerily when you open it to step out and creaks again when you close it; he hates that sound. For a while Eddie doesn’t move, just lays comfortable listening to the faint sound of your voice in the kitchen as you order the food. Eddie wishes you had made the call closer so he can hear the sound of your honeyed voice even if it wasn’t aimed at him.

He looks around your room regardless of the fact that he’s been in there more than his own room as of late. His probing eyes find their way to your desk and on your desk, just as you had left it only moments ago, is the little black sketchbook he was always so curious about.

It was wrong, his desire to grab it so he could selfishly get a glimpse of something that was absolutely none of his business. It was a breach of privacy but he had never had such an opportunity, the book was almost always in your line of sight never fully giving someone the chance to open it. He looks at the door, ears straining to see if you were on your way back to the room, but he hears nothing and so, with shaky hands, he stretches his arm across the gap between your bed and the desk and gently grabs the book. The guilt pours in almost immediately and he sighs in frustration. In truth he doesn’t know why he’s so adament on finding out what’s in it, he guesses that maybe he doesn’t like that you feel the need to hide something from him- or maybe he was just greedy, wanting to know everything there was to know about you so that he may keep you closer to his heart more than you were to anyone else's-, he was pretty sure you trusted him he just wasn’t sure why you didn’t with this.

You’ve had no problem letting him have his quick glances at other drawings; the little butterflies you’d draw with precision along the lining of homework, or the randomly drawn eyes in between sections of your notes, why was this so different?

Eddie sighs once more before placing the book back onto your desk, taking care to place just as it was. 

The door opens just as Eddie lays back down and his heart almost bursts out of his chest at how quickly you did it. He still feels that sliver of guilt when you move to giddily plop yourself beside him, letting your fingernails rub at his scalp and rake through the tangles in his unruly hair with a pretty little grin sat perfectly etched into your face. He face plants into the pillow again.

“I almost looked through your sketchbook,” for some reason Eddie’s never felt more full of shame, “I didn’t though.” He says the last part sternly as if to reiterate that you can trust him enough not to try again. 

You stay relatively quiet, hand still making its way through the frizzy waves, fingers curling the hair around themselves in an attempt to create curls. Eddie usually enjoys your random spurts of touchiness, revels in it, because it only happens once in a blue moon- when you’re too comfortable to register the way you’re touching him so intimately, but right now it does very little to quiet his nerves in the way he hoped it might. He wonders if you're mad at him.

The silence is deafening, he’s not sure why he said anything at all, the undeniable need to hold himself accountable when it comes to you is aggravating. Even with the reputation of someone like him it was incredibly hard to lie to you. The time he snuck a bite of your lunch abruptly crosses his mind, he remembers how it took all of ten seconds of your frowning stare for him to give in and stop blaming Henderson.

The thought is thrown out the window when he feels your body cuddle up to him, “It’s you.” you whisper the words so quietly he almost misses it.

His head turns to you, for what seems like the nth time tonight, only to find you already looking at his face close enough he can feel the warmth of your breath against his shuttering lips. You’re so close, maybe too close because he’s sure you can see the way his pupils dilated and the way his nose goes a little red in correspondence. 

Eddie’s brows furrow, “What’s me?”

Your eyes dart to look at everything but his eyes, you look at the crease formed from confusion between his brows and the way it makes his button nose scrunch a little, the smile lines that are prominent even without his usual smug grin, you look at the pink of his lips and the way the skin peels from how often he bites at them, you do see the way his pupils dilate and how his nose gets red, “The drawings in the sketchbook- their all drawing of you.”

At first he just watches you, brown doe like eyes looking for signs of deceit or sarcasm as if he thinks you’re seconds away from laughing in his face and telling him “It was a joke” because he doesn't want it to be. He wants to know if you look at him the way he looks at you. He needs to know if you notice how the corner of his eyes crinkle when he laughs the way he notices the way your eyes shine like gold in the light of the morning sun. Do you take notice of the beauty mark that lays hidden under the shield of his eyelashes the way he takes note of and admires every visible mark and scar that litters your face and body? Do you see Eddie the way he sees you? He hopes you do.

The breath he takes before speaking is uncharacteristically shakey compared to the usual confidence he holds in his chest, “Yeah?” 

Your confirming hum, even with it being laced with uncertainty, has his heart soaring to heights of tenderness he has never felt before. He brings his hand to your face and lets his ringed fingers, calloused and scarred, delicately trace the features he swears were sculpted by some sort of deity before letting it settle against your warming cheek with an adoration that could make even the coldest of hearts leap. His touch is so filled with irrefutable love that it could be mistaken for worship in the purest of forms and God does it make your heart ache with a passion like no other.

The euphoric feeling of exhilaration that fills the both of you and the room has you both giggling like children, pressing your foreheads together at the ridiculousness of the situation, everything not having fully settled in your minds.

This natural feeling of contentment between the two of you is all Eddie ever craves. He hoped almost everyday for moments like this- to be the reason you light up with laughter even in moments of seriousness.

“So… Am I like your muse or something? Cause y’know I’d be totally flattered.” The words are muttered as to not disrupt the intimacy of the moment but the teasing tone of his voice is there and a smirk that has his smile lines deepening, a sight you treasure, inches across his flushed face. When you jokingly begin to roll away from him in response to his mocking his hands press firmly into the dip of your waist to keep you close, he couldn’t even possibly think of being more than a foot away from you right now and he’d never pass up the chance to hold you close.

Eddie rubs his nose against yours, his hair tickles your collarbone, “I think you basically confessed to me by the way, sweetheart.”

You think your best friend is the only person in the world who would still crack jokes during times like this. You cuddle your face closer to his letting your lips brush against his just enough to make his breath hitch, “Oh yeah? Maybe you just have an ego and think I confessed to you. I gotta admit Munson, that's a little presumptuous of you.” Your fingers brush a little of his dark hair out of the way.

His hand moves from your waist to your cheek to the back of your neck to tangle his fingers into the hair by the base, “Well maybe I’m feeling a little egotistical.” The kiss he then places on your lips is nothing short of intoxicating, a gentleness that doesn’t exclude the devastating hunger he feels for you. It’s all consuming and all him. His lips are softer than you imagine and as his tongue slides against the seal of your lips for permission to enter you can taste the faintness of the cigarette he had smoked before getting to your place. His tongue dances with your own sensually instead of dirtily and slowly instead of frenzied like he wanted you to feel every ounce of absolute passion he felt. You pull him impossibly closer, hands clenched tightly into the tattered fabric of his metallica t-shirt, only pulling away when you’ve both run out of breath.

Heavy breathing fills the silence of your bedroom and even with his exasperation Eddie trails his lips across your cheek and along your neck like he never wants to stop. “You should pose for me the next time I draw you.”

“I could pose naked.” He giggles immaturely just at the thought.

“Never mind, you ruined it.”

[churipu]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye

note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).

girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.

girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.

girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.

"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.

"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.

"baby, you're going to be the best father."

although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.

girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.

"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"

"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.

". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."

girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.

girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.

"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.

"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.

girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).

girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.

girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.

girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.

"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."

girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).

"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.

"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.

girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.

girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.

"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.

girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.

girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.

girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.

"maa..ma."

sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"

when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.

girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.

"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.

girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.

girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.

"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.

"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"

"after dinner, baby. okay?"

sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.

girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.

"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.

"you look pretty, ryo."

"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.

eh, not bad.

girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.

girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.

"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.

the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.

girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.

"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.

"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.

"no."

the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.

girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.

"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.

girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?

"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.

"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."

girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[coquettefrancaise]

i got you babe

by sonny and cher

pairing: sick!Azriel x reader ~ 2.9k

warnings: non-sexual bathing

summary: when Azriel collapses from his fever while you're on vacation, you, the only person he'll accept help from, hurry home to nurse him back to health

a/n: overthinking is not for the weak (please please please give me ideas for fics guys I am stRuggling here)

Azriel had felt like shit the moment he woke up. From his sore throat to his heavy, achy limbs. Granted, he had felt the early symptoms of this earlier last night but had hoped sleep would erase it.

That didn't seem to be the case.

He rarely became sick but when he did, it was not pretty.

One could argue that it was because he didn't allow his body to rest which was why but he claimed it was a part of his 'bad luck'. The constant misfortune he was given that had wound him up with a loathsome childhood and three unrequited loves. Until you.

You had turned his world upside down so abruptly that he had been left dizzy and craving more. It took him time to be cared for in the way you did but he now grew to adore it.

He coughed, wincing at the soreness of his throat. Unfortunately for him, you were in the summer court with the females of the inner circle, taking a much needed vacation. And as much as he wished you were here to tell him he'd be alright, he didn't want you to end your trip early.

He stepped out of bed, hand catching the frame as he felt faint. He was fine.

He then took a moment for it to subside and went to change for training and take something for the intense pressure building in his head. It felt as if someone had stuffed cotton balls inside it.

One look in the mirror and he cringed. Face pallor, sunken eyes, sinuses swollen. His body screamed at him to go lay down and bury his face in your pillow and succumb to heavenly sleep. Anything besides being up and about.

Instead he splashed his face with cold water.

Besides... even if he didn't wish to disrupt your fun, Azriel was nothing if not schedule-oriented. It gave him some semblance of control to be able to know what his day consisted of. And it threw off his entire day if there was a kink in his program.

Albeit lethargically, he readied himself and swallowed a sour headache tonic. Hand pressed to his temple to further relieve the pain, he went downstairs to eat breakfast.

Cassian was at the table, a half-finished bowl of oatmeal and glass of water in front of him, humming a small tune. Cauldron, that water looked absolutely delicious.

"Good morning, sleepy head." Cassian cooed, pspspsing at Azriel as if he were a cat in want of chin scritches. "Ready for your ass to be beat?"

Azriel ignored the meathead and sat down, grumbling thanks to the house when his own food appeared. He didn't hesitate to gulp down the water, the ache in his chest dimming. Still fine.

He could feel Cassian's eyes assessing him, skeptical. "You look pale."

It was times like these that Azriel hated how observant the Lord of Bloodshed was.

Apparently, Cassian believed that, with you being gone, he was to be Azriel's warden. Telling him to go to bed when he had been too caught up in paperwork, reminding him to drink more water, having Rhys check on his whereabouts every few hours... and if he found out Azriel was sick, he'd coddle him. And Azriel didn't enjoy being coddled. Except by you.

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. So you should probably take yourself out of my business before I shove that spoon up your ass."

Cassian threw his hands up in innocence, an amused chuckle falling from his lips. "You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?"

Azriel made no comment.

"Aw, I understand now. Are you just so distraught that she's been gone for a week? Is that why you look so under the weather? She's your only salvation?"

Yes, actually. But Azriel wouldn't admit that.

"You really just enjoy hearing yourself talk, don't you?" he pushed his bowl of oatmeal away, not feeling too hungry.

"You can't even eat because you're so lost without her. It's alright to admit that you're totally, completely in love, Az. We've all been there."

Azriel felt that his head might explode if he sat there for one second longer, so he stood and headed up to the training ring. And Cassian, ever the obedient pup, followed.

As soon as they stepped out into the fresh air, Azriel felt somewhat better. Like he could breathe easier, even if his sinuses still stung sharply. He was still fine.

But his moment of relief was cut short as he swayed softly at his equilibrium being thrown off kilter.

Even in the dim lighting of twilight, Cassian caught the movement, frowning at Azriel. "You don't look so good, Az. You should sit down for a bit or-"

"I'm fine," Azriel snapped, closing his eyes as the intensity of the words caused him to feel even more light-headed.

He heard Cassian sigh heavily and then felt a hand at his brow. "Holy shit. You're hot."

Azriel scoffed.

"Not that way, you idiot," Cassian growled, "you're burning up with a fever."

"I already said I'm fine. Now can we please get this over with? I have actual work I need to catch up on."

"Mm, no."

And then Azriel was being pushed out of the training ring and towards the stair doors. "Your pretty bird would have my head if she knew I let you train in the midst of a fever."

There was no argument there.

You would have caught his fever way before it had broken, Azriel was sure. He never knew how you managed to do it. One cough and he would be put on bed-rest with warm soup being ladled to his lips while you dabbed at his sweat-slick skin with a cool washcloth.

But you weren't here to do those things so Azriel dug his heels into the gravel. "I've lived this long without being coddled by you Cassian. I think I can survive longer without you starting now."

Cassian would hear none of it, so he pulled out the big guns and said, "I'll tell her to come home early if you won't go back to bed."

That had Azriel's heels lift.

You had been ecstatic about this trip for months. You'd planned everything down to the last detail and even bought new clothing for it. Azriel wouldn't begrudge you your long-awaited vacation just because he wouldn't listen to his asshole of a brother.

"Fine," Azriel grumbled under his breath.

With that, Cassian continued to guide him to the stairs when Azriel collapsed. Not fine.

"I really, really, really wish we had a beach in Valeris."

You and the rest of the inner circle—excluding Amren—hummed in agreement at Nesta's contented sigh.

You had arrived nearly a week ago and spent most of the days under the summer court's sun while lounging on their pristine white beach. And in the evening, when the sun went to bed, everyone dressed their best and went out partying, taking advantage of the fruity beverages and up-beat music.

"You could always lay by the Sidra," Elain murmured from under her sun hat. While she didn't want to tan like the rest of you, she still wished to be nearby the group, so she used a towel and hat to cover her body from the warm rays.

"Because seeing a female in a skimpy bikini, sunbathing at the Sidra wouldn't be odd." Nesta said drily, adjusting the straps of said bikini.

The group chuckled then returned to the peaceful silence.

Oftentimes you all fell into naps from the noise of the salty waves lapping onto the shores at your toes. The only reason you hadn't burned to a crisp being that you periodically passed around a protective sunscreen.

Speaking of... you sat up, adjusting the sunglasses sitting on your nose, and dug around your bag for the sunscreen. "Alright ladies it's time."

Despite their groaning, they followed suit in sitting up, taking swigs from their waters and then passing around the lotion you offered. "You're such a mom," Mor teased, rubbing it into her arms.

You shrug, making sure you didn't miss the crevices of your ears or hair part. "I enjoy taking care of people."

"And we're grateful for that," Feyre chimed in, "because without you, we'd all be shriveled and red and a horrible sight for sore eyes."

You'd always enjoy taking care of the people you loved. It began when you were a little girl and you were tasked with watching your youngest siblings. If your parents weren't available, you fed, clothed, and played with them. Unlike others, you thrived under the responsibility.

So when you got together with Azriel, you were thrilled to find out that he wasn't very good at taking care of himself. While, yes, he was great at seeing to his family's and friends' needs, he neglected his own.

That's why you believed you were perfectly compatible. You looked after him and vice versa.

After everyone reapplied the lotion, you stuffed it back into your bag and laid back.

You wondered how Azriel was doing. If he was sleeping enough or- you shook your head. He was a grown male who was fully capable of taking care of himself. He didn't need you to constantly worry over him.

Unexpectedly, Rhys' voice filled your head.

"You need to come home,"

"Is everything alright?"

A pause. "Azriel collapsed."

You were on your feet instantly, heart pounding wildly in your chest like a drum. "Mor."

Mor quirked an eyebrow, clearly displeased at how you were blocking the sun.

"I need you to winnow me home. Azriel's hurt."

As hastily as you had jumped from your sunbathing chair, Mor had you in her arms, the world shifting under your feet until you appeared on the roof of the townhouse. Cassian stood a couple of feet away, leaning against the railing, no doubt waiting to fly you up to the house of wind.

"How is he?" you hurried to Cassian.

He smoothed his hands down your arms to calm you down. "Rhys and I didn't mean to scare you. Azriel is in stable condition but he collapsed on me this morning at training with a burning fever."

Of course the male would attempt to train while being sick. Yet, the worry in your stomach relaxed. You knew how to treat a fever. When Rhys had told you the news, your thoughts had turned to Azriel being seriously, deathly injured.

You took a deep breath in and blew it out. "Take me to him."

Mor called from behind you, "I'm going to head back to the summer court. Update us please."

You turned around and gave her a hug, thanking her for bringing you. "Drink a mojito for me. And don't forget sunscreen."

The blonde chuckled and squeezed you before leaving.

Not ten minutes later, you slipped into Azriel's room, a frowning Madja concocting a tonic at the vanity.

"Good thing you're here, child." She sighed, exasperated. "He's been moaning your name as if he were on his deathbed."

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Madja."

You walked to the bed, taking in the male under the sheets. Azriel looked worn. His skin was leeched of his usual sun-kissed color. Lips chapped and breath raspy.

Your fingers danced along his brow, concern furrowing your own at the heat emanating from his skin. How had he managed to even get to the rooftop this morning while burning this hot? Fevers this bad took time to build.

"Azriel?" you whispered gently, opening the top drawer of the nightstand to retrieve a lip salve and applying it to his lips. It was devastating seeing Azriel looking so sick; a stark difference to his usual strong, put-together appearance.

He hummed, eyelids shifting.

Madja walked to you, holding out a vial. The older fae probably wondered often herself how these males managed to survive this far with the way they managed to overlook their needs. "Have him drink this when he is awake. He'll need plenty of fluids and rest."

"Is there anything he could take to make him less dense?" you teased.

She muttered something under her breath, eyes turned heavenward as if praying for patience. "If there was, I'd have given it to them long ago. The high lord is practically paying for my existence at this point."

"Your work has probably made the biggest dent in his coffers."

Madja grinned, patting your hand. "I trust that you will manage him just fine. He's been one of the bats that I've tended to less ever since you entered his life."

A warmth filled your chest at her words. Madja's praise wasn't given often so you didn't think much when you wrapped the healer into your arms. She grunted softly, reaching around to tap your shoulder in reciprocation.

"Thank you Madja. For the compliment and being here for him. He worries me sick at times." You let go and turned to Azriel was still slept.

"That's how you know you love them, child. You continuously fret over their welfare and wish to take away their pain." A softness entered her eyes as she looked at Azriel too. "All the things he's endured, he never deserved"

It made you sick to think of his father and step-brothers. Of the things they had done to Azriel when he was only a child; small and vulnerable. "They defintely deserved what they got." Your voice was cold, not a tone you usually took up.

Madja nodded just as your name was raspily called from the bed.

You were sitting immediately, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Azriel?"

Hazel eyes blinked open, bleary from sleep. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he took you in before promptly falling. "You're-" he coughed, "you're not supposed to be here."

"Why not?"

"You were in the summer court... having fun."

Soft lips pressed to the crown of his head. "And I'm here now and I want to make sure you're healthy."

"I didn't want you to leave early. You were so excited."

"I wanted to leave early. I wasn't going to continue having fun while my stubborn boyfriend was sick and fainting in the training ring. Do you know how bad you scared me?"

Madja quietly slipped out of the room, giving you privacy.

"'m sorry," he rasped.

You sigh, "Let's get you into a cool bath, shall we? It will help to bring your temperature down."

He let you help him up, muscled arm across your shoulder as you led him into the bathing room and stripped him of his clothes. "For the record," you said softly, pulling off his socks, "I'm not angry at you. Only disappointed."

"Why?"

You stood, holding his face in between your hands, looking down at him from where he sat on the toilet. "Because I love you and I want you to feel that you can come to me whenever you're not feeling great. I hate knowing you were suffering alone."

He cast his eyes down to the floor, "You're always taking care of me."

"Do you not... not want me to?"

Did he think your constant attention was annoying? Sure, some people thought you were overbearing but you thought Azriel appreciated it. Wouldn't he tell you otherwise?

"No, my love," he pressed his forehead to your ribs, shaking hands gripping onto your thighs. "I didn't want to burden you."

"You could never, ever, burden me." It was said with finality.

Hot air blew across your exposed midriff. "Love you,"

"And I love you." You sank to your knees so you were eye-level. Despite his flushed face, his eyes were full of so much love and gratitude. "And I love taking care of you. There is nothing in this world I would rather be doing. So let's get you into this bath and into bed so you can feel better, hm?"

As he lounged in the tub, head thrown back against the lip as you soothed a rag across his chest and face, you laughed. You only now realized you still wore your bathing suit.

He cracked open one eye.

"You must be severely under the weather to not even notice my outfit."

His eyes scanned your body, tucked into the scanty blue bikini. "Is that color...?"

"The same color as your siphons? Yes."

The water disturbed as he lifted out a hand, bringing it to the nape of your neck where it was tied. You shivered at the cold of the water. Then you gasped as, with one expert flick, it became undone. You barely had time to catch the strings before you flashed Azriel. "Az!" you scolded, face pink.

"Can't a dying man admire his girlfriend's beautiful body?"

"You're not even dying." You tied the strings once more. "How about this? When you're fever breaks and you aren't falling asleep every five minutes, I'll let you admire me as much as you wish."

He smirked in reply, waving his hand haughtily. "Carry along with your ministrations then. I need to recover quickly."

You giggled as you continued to blot the cloth at his warm skin.

Later that night, when you were both tucked into bed, you smiled to yourself. Azriel was practically sunken into your skin with how his legs were intertwined with your own, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, and face tucked into your neck.

You truly did enjoy taking care of him.

divider credit: cafekitsune

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

[jayke0]

Bunk Up

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem reader

Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 3,132

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………......................………………………………….

Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?

Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.

It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.

Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.

Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.

“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.

“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”

The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.

“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.

“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.

Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.

“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”

“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.

“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”

It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.

Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.

You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.

The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.

Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.

Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?

Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.

Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.

You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.

“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.

“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.

“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”

God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.

“You.”

“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.

A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.

“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”

Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.

The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.

This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.

“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.

“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”

That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.

“Long enough to be needin’ you.”

His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.

“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”

Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.

“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.

“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.

The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.

“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”

Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.

“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.

The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.

“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.

“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”

You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.

Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.

As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”

“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.

Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.

You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.

That's when you feel it.

His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.

You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.

Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.

“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.

You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.

“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.

“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.

Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”

Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.

“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.

“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.

His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.

“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.

Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.

“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.

You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.

You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.

“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.

“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”

An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.

“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”

[thimbleandakiss]

You Shouldn't Be Here

Hufflepuff!Reader x Fred Weasley

Summary: After a rough night, you sneak into Gryffindor Tower to bug your sleepy boyfriend.

Content: Fluff, mild angst, mild cursing, and Umbridge hate

Cross-posted on Ao3

"Bloody hell- what in Merlin's name-"

You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, grinning lopsidedly. 

"Shhh, Freddie," You hush with a small giggle, "You'll wake the others." 

You'd ensured the crimson curtains were drawn tight around Fred's fourposter, but there was only so much privacy fabric could provide. 

Fred grabbed hold of your wrist and effortlessly pulled it away from his mouth. He pressed a quick kiss to your knuckles before giving you an incredulous look. 

"What time is it, love?" He grumbled. 

"Oh, not long after one o'clock," You replied casually.

"And you're in Gryffindor Tower." 

You nodded, looking quite pleased with yourself, "Yes."

"...But you're Hufflepuff."

"And?"

"You shouldn't be here."

You raised a single eyebrow which probably couldn't be seen well in the gloom. "Are you, Fred Weasley, complaining about me breaking school rules?"

He huffed and shifted his weight, so he's sitting up just a little on the headboard while you straddled lap. His hands rested casually on your hips, thumbs mindlessly stroking the curve of the bone and your own arms slung across his shoulders. 

"No, not at all, love, it's just-" He sighed, "With that foul Umbridge woman running amok, consequences are a lot more... permanent."

Even in the low light of his dorm room, you could see the worry that shone in his eyes. Fred was always one for mischief, but he was hesitant to string you along in it. He had no issue whatsoever with throwing himself headfirst into danger, him and George, because they'd be the only ones to suffer the consequences. With you involved? ...He never wanted you hurt. He had this intense urge to keep you protected at all times. So, while he certainly enjoyed the fact that you were willing to bend the rules to be with him and get yourself in trouble just to cause mischief with him, he always found himself personally responsible whenever you got hurt. 

Your expression darkened slightly at the mention of the Professor. Your hands tightened behind his head, and the scars you'd kept hidden there burning like they had when they'd been freshly etched onto your skin. 

"Believe me, Freddie, I'm intimately acquainted with Umbridge's definition of consequences," You muttered, turning your face away slightly. 

Fred tensed beneath you, sitting up a little straighter. "What haven't you told me?" He demanded quietly but firmly. 

You shook your head. "It's nothing important-"

He cut you off and grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. "Bullshit," he said with careful calm. "Don't tell me what I do and don't find important."

The callouses of his hands scraped gently against the skin of your chin, and though his grip was firm, he's always made sure to be gentle. He'd never admit it to your face, but he treated you like the most precious, fragile thing. He'd probably die from the sheer guilt alone if he ever hurt you. 

You swallowed and, staring into his warm brown eyes which reflected the moonlight like stars across his pupils, found yourself unable to lie to him further.

"...I had detention with her today..." You admitted quietly, looking down. 

Fred let out a stream of colorful, and arguably creative, curses, dropping your chin and returning his hand to your hip. "When?" He asked stiffly, the muscles in his jaw working

"I got off and came straight here."

He cursed again. "She kept you there until one in the morning?!" 

You shrugged. "I suppose I have thicker skin than she anticipated," you mumbled with forced casualty. 

"I'm going to kill that woman." A shiver passed up your spine at the sheer conviction with which he spoke. "What was the reason for it?"

"She caught me consoling a second-year student about his own detention. I was trying to use magic to take away the pain. And, as you well know, all magic is now banned in the halls." 

Fred looked downright outraged. "She threw you in detention for comforting a child?" 

Another shrug. "You know Umbridge," You muttered, though it was of little comfort. "I wonder if she's somehow part dementor. She sucks the soul out of everything."

Fred scoffed lightly. Then, he lifted one of his large hands and set it gently on your arm. "Let me see," He asked softly. 

You knew exactly what he was referring to, and withdrew your hand from behind his neck, angling it so the fresh, angry scars caught in the moonlight. They read I must not set a bad example. 

Fred gently rubbed his thumb across the words, a few locks of his ginger hair falling in front of his eyes. Despite the situation, you smiled, loving the sight. With your spare hand, you gently brushed his hair off his forehead, and he glanced at you, his gaze briefly softening. 

"...This is some bloody bullshit," He muttered finally, intertwining your fingers. 

You chuckled softly. You knew he was upset and angry on your behalf, but you couldn't help but find his inability to adequately express it endearing. 

"It's alright, love," you murmured, running your fingers through his hair, "I'm alright."

He looked at you like he seriously doubted this but chose not to say anything. 

There're a few moments of comfortable silence, before you take a breath. "...Can I stay?" You asked hesitantly. 

He once again looked as if he was about to say something then decided against it. He sighed, "You want to?"

You nodded. 

"Alright. You can stay. But I'm not covering your ass if Professor Sprout gets mad at you for breaking curfew." Despite his words, you knew deep down that he would, in fact, try to cover your ass if it came to it.

You smiled gleefully and quickly shucked off your robe and pulled off your yellow and black tie, tossing them to the ground. You both knew George and Lee wouldn't say anything if they saw your clothes on the ground. They'd probably choose to actively avoid the topic. 

Fred reached over to his dresser and grabbed a spare jumper, handing it to you. It was so oversized that, if you stood, it'd reach to your knees. The extra room in the jumper allowed you to unbutton and slide off your school shirt without ever having to be actually shirtless. 

After the white fabric joined the pile on the floor, you leaned forward and settled against Fred's chest as he, too, laid back down, one arm behind his head, and the other wrapped securely around your waist. You lifted your face to smile at him and found him already grinning down at you. Propping yourself up slightly by your forearms, you planted a gentle kiss to his lips, one he happily returned. 

"Goodnight, Freddie," You whispered as you laid your head back down, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat. 

"Goodnight, love," He murmured back softly. 

He rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly against the small of your back, just to let you know that he was still there, still with you. You knew the moment he started losing consciousness, because it was the same moment the reassuring motion ceased. 

It didn't matter much, however, because it wasn't long after that the sound of his soft breathing, and the quiet, comforting strength of his arm around you sent you into a blissful sleep. 

[dynakatsposts]

"You're Not That Bad"

Pairings: K. Bakugo x Fem. Reader

Author's Note: "Love" by W2E has been playing on loop and I made a scenario in my head. I hope y'all like it!

Warnings: Swearing (cus it's Bakugo, alright?)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･────୨ৎ────⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You and Bakugo are classmates, but not friends. It's not that you two had any bad interaction, it's just that you two barely talk to each other. Yeah, sure, you two hang out, but because both of you have the same friends. Both in the same circle of friends, but barely interact with one another.

No one questioned any of you two. They probably understand why you don't interact much with Bakugo, unless it's about school work, or just some simple questions. You were like the class A's quiet student. Silently observing everyone around you. Minding your own business and not butting in anyone's conversations. Of course, they'll really understand why you're not that close with Bakugo.

But what they didn't understand is HOW Bakugo interacts with you. You ask a question, he responds just like a normal person would. If it was another person, let's say one of your classmates, their heads would have been blown off by his loud yelling. It's not because you are a complete stranger to him. No, because even if it was a complete stranger, he'd still be yelling at them. (Typical Bakugo)

The Katsuki Bakugo whose always rough and sharp around the edges, whose loud and brash, acts so soft and calm around you. You don't even notice the way the crease of his eyes soften when you come around. The way his voice will go soft when he speaks to you. The way his shoulders doesn't tense when it comes to you. This left everyone questioning how the hell did the great all mighty Katsuki Bakugo goes soft for the class A's quiet girl and you're completely oblivious about it.

How did this happen? Simple; he respects you as a person. What could be his reason? Well, it's because you didn't treat him like some kind of a king or a monster. Just a normal person. As much as Bakugo hated to admit it, sometimes, he just wishes someone could see him as a person. Not a person above them, not a monster, and definitely not a weakling. Just a person.

You treated him like one. Didn't praise him so much after some combat training, just a simple "Nice, that's cool." You don't go and comment something when he somehow makes a mistake (which he wouldn't admit even though it's so obvious). You don't fear him when the two of you are sparring, you just give all your best. You don't fake your words around him, just say the actual truth.

Since then, he has always respected you and is now probably interested in you. He can't deny that you're good-looking. He'll never deny that, but he also won't admit that he sees you in that way. You're small compared to him. So delicate like a beautiful flower. Skin looking soft like cotton. Mesmerizing eyes. Soft pinkish lips.

You're always in his thoughts. Bakugo never took himself as someone who'd be interested with any of these things, but it changed when it came to you. The Katsuki Bakugo has been admiring you from afar.

One day, your friends thought of hanging out in the mall, which you all agreed to. So here you are with your friends, along with Bakugo, who's been grumbling to himself that this was a stupid idea and how annoying they all were. But deep down, he didn't meant any of that. He's just a grumpy guy, which you find adorable.

Everyone started going their own ways, leaving you and Bakugo together.

"Those idiots... Dragging me here just to go away at whatever store their going to. Fucking stupid."

He grumbled to himself, shoving his hands on his pockets. Then looking at you, wondering why you're still here.

"Hey, why aren't you out with them?"

He asked, eyes softening as his gaze landed onto you. You're on your phone, scrolling through whatever you were looking at.

"It seems like you could use some company. I wouldn't mind staying here."

You said nonchalantly, closing your phone and putting it in your pockets before looking at him. He was surprised that you were willing to stay behind for him. He scoffed, but there wasn't any annoyance in it.

"You didn't had to. You could've just went with them. I'm not the most cheerful person, y'know?"

"Yeah? So? Do I always need to surround myself with cheerful people?"

He was caught off guard by your question. He knew to himself that you aren't an extrovert. More like an ambivert. But still, you choosing to stay with him was making him feel warm on the inside.

"You wanna go and hang out instead? It's okay if you don't wanna."

"Sure."

"Nice. Wanna go to this new cafe? They said they have good coffee."

"I'll be the judge of that."

You chuckled at his statement. He couldn't help but feel warm and at ease hearing you chuckle because of him. He's making sure to savor this time hanging out with you. (and maybe, just maybe, you two can hangout again. But that's another thought next time)

"You're not that bad..."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･────୨ৎ────⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Masterlist𔓐𑇓

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 - 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

This is a quick little Valentine's Day fic for Zoro! Short and sweet (pun intended,) but I loved writing it. I have a few other things I'll be trying to post leading up to Valentine's Day, but at the very least I've managed to get this out. I may end up editing it after the fact as I usually do.

CW: SFW, strong language, alcohol, tsundere-ish Zoro, female reader

~2k words

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“I hate chocolate.” 

“Good. These aren't for you, anyway.”

Zoro grumbles under his breath as he follows you out of the little confectionery shop, begrudgingly holding a bag of various chocolates. He's never been a fan of sweets, not at all, not even a little. So when you dragged him inside on the one day you have off the ship, he was a little annoyed, to say the least. 

“What, so you bought this many for yourself?” He asks. His steps keep in time with yours as he walks beside you, careful not to lose you in the crowd.

“Nope. For the crew.” You explain, peeking into the bag you carry. “I thought it'd be nice to get everyone something since it's almost Valentine's Day.”

Shit. Zoro knew he was forgetting something. 

“Right. Valentine's Day.” Zoro mumbles, glancing down at the bag again. 

God, how could he forget? Everyone's been babbling about chocolates, roses, festivities, and the cook has certainly been the worst offender, asking every woman aboard if they'd be his Valentine. Somewhere between his training, their fights at sea, and taking naps with you, he lost track of time. His eyes remain locked on the bag of chocolates, and just as he's trying to push the strange blend of feelings from his mind, he feels you tugging on his arm. In his train of thought, he'd started veering off the opposite way. 

“Whoa, there. Ship's this way, Mossy.” You say in your goddamn adorably teasing tone. It makes him clench his jaw. 

“Yeah, I know. And don’t call me that.” Zoro responds curtly, bristling with annoyance. 

It just makes you laugh. 

“Whatever you say.”

---

Zoro stares at you from across the deck, watching you hand chocolates to your crewmates. Luffy's confused at first, then overjoyed; Usopp’s awkward, then grateful; Franky's making his stupid poses; Nami's taking it off your tab; Robin's thanking you; Brook's asking to see your panties; Chopper's wiggling and grinning; Sanji's nose is bleeding; blah blah blah. All the same antics, the same lines, yet all Zoro is focused on is that look on your beautiful face as you give out your Valentine's chocolates. Your eyes light up with every ‘thank you,’ every hug, and all Zoro can do is think about how the hell he forgot about Valentine's Day. 

But it's too late now, isn't it? The ship has already left the port and he didn't buy any flowers or gifts. He sucks at making cards, expressing his feelings, baking cookies - basically, anything that could make a decent Valentine. Then there's the most troubling part of all. Is he even your Valentine? Does it even matter?

You've been dating each other for somewhere around two months now. That doesn't necessarily mean that you're Valentine's, though. Nothing was ever said, neither of you asked the other, and at this point, he's not even sure how to bring it up. It seems rather obvious to him that you'd be each other's Valentine's, but that's what makes it even more frustrating - what seems obvious to Zoro isn't always obvious to others. Sometimes he's exhausted being surrounded by so many idiots (though he refuses to admit that he’s one of them.)

But not you. You're the idiot he doesn't get tired of. But, god, why did it have to be chocolates? Valentine's Day has always seemed like some kind of worthless, annoying day where everyone just gives out candy and useless junk as an excuse to make out. Making out, Zoro can handle - sweets, not so much. But then there's you, who's all sugar and spice and everything nice. The antithesis of what he's supposed to like, but your attitude has proven irresistibly charming to the stoic swordsman. 

The way your smile beams across the ship could end wars, call ships away from danger, light up the moonless sky as it so often has when you've been on watch together. It's damn near impossible to deny how much he loves to see that look on your face, and even more irritating that currently he's not the one that put it there. So, chocolates. Zoro can't do that. But that smile? He'll maim, kill, and die for it. He reasons that maybe there's a simpler way. 

---

You're a little skeptical when your boyfriend asks you to come up to the crow’s nest in the middle of the night. Hell, neither of you is assigned watch and it's well past your usual hours for training. Usually, this late at night, Zoro's fast asleep in his hammock if he's not tucked into your bed with you. So, what gives?

“Just shut up and trust me.” He chides, his tone slightly irritated but mostly playful. Well, that's Zoro.

As you follow him out onto the deck, the cool night air hits the exposed skin from your pajamas. The stars are beautiful, glittering above in a way that's almost distracting, but you don't linger your gaze on them for too long. Instead, you stay closely behind Zoro, your arms crossed over your chest long enough to keep some semblance of warmth. The journey up the crow’s nest is longer than you'd like given the temperature and your sleepy mind, but you swear you can almost smell something weird wafting down from the open door hatch. 

It's not only until you peek inside that you recognize the scent of lavender, and through the candlelight, you recognize a large blanket, several pillows, a bottle of sake, and some kind of food on a few plates. As you're trying to register what you're looking at, Zoro pulls your hand gently to assist you up the rest of the way. 

“What is this?” You ask, and the way your lips curl into a smile makes Zoro's heart stutter. 

He lets go of your hand, walking across the planks of the crow’s nest to his makeshift picnic. It’s a romantic setup that took him all evening, and he can recall the several conversations he had with himself to try to figure out something to throw together. He’s a little satisfied with himself - smug, even - but he maintains his usual demeanor for now. Zoro doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, after all.

“Well, what does it look like?” Zoro responds in his classic, gruff tone. “Made you a picnic. Since it's Valentine's Day and all that.”

Your eyes glance around the candles, and while the setup is fairly simple, you can't deny the wonder you feel at the sight. Never once had you expected anything like this from Zoro. Quite truthfully, you thought he would have forgotten or written off the whole thing as stupid. Taking a few careful steps, your gaze finally glances back up at him. 

“Where did you…I mean, food and candles? I really didn't…”

Zoro hums, and his lips finally quirk up into a cocky smile for a moment. He couldn’t keep that smug feeling aside for long, especially when your eyes light up the way they do.

“Candles are from Robin, and I owe Nami for tricking the cook into getting us some snacks.” He responds before his eye flicks back up to yours. “You like it?”

“Like it? This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.” You grin, and you move to close the space between you two. It makes Zoro's heart stutter yet again. 

“Really? Is the bar that low?” Zoro replies with an amused huff. “Didn't think it was all that impressive. I pulled it together sorta last minute when I realized Valentine's Day meant so much to you.”

“It doesn’t.” You respond quickly, and you let out a laugh at Zoro’s shocked expression. So, you elaborate. “I mean, I like Valentine’s Day because it’s an excuse to express how much people mean to me. But the holiday itself doesn’t make or break anything. I wasn’t expecting you to actually care about it, which is why I never said anything.”

Zoro seems contemplative for a moment, his eye trailing carefully over to the makeshift picnic. He lets out a huff, one hand resting casually on his sword, the other against his thigh. 

“Of course I don’t care about Valentine’s Day.” He says, almost snapping. Guess you struck a nerve. “It’s a stupid holiday designed for people like that love cook to hit on women. I didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day ‘till you bought all that candy.”

Despite his harsh tone, you can’t help but smile a bit wider at his response. He seems irritated, and likely just because he was in his own head about it. And god, that smile you give him…

“But I care about you, moron. That’s why I threw this together.”

Zoro sits down on one of the blankets, patting a pillow next to him for you to join. You don’t hesitate, and as you sit down you watch as Zoro grabs the bottle of sake and pulls the cork out with his teeth. He spits it aside, taking a long swig of it. If the candles weren’t so dim, you might have been able to notice the way the tips of his ears light up red. 

“I already told you that this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me. You don’t have to feel weird about doing it just because I wasn’t expecting it.” You finally speak up, a hand moving to rest on his forearm. “Seriously, I appreciate this. It’s honestly really…sweet.”

Zoro takes his free hand holding the bottle of sake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a sigh. He’s definitely embarrassed, but that sweet tone of yours makes something in his chest feel lighter. 

“Yeah, well…I don’t normally do sweet. You know that.” Zoro says, setting the bottle of sake down between the both of you. And he knows that you know that - hell, you probably know him better than most people. “Just felt like now that we’re dating, I wanted to see you…have a good Valentine’s Day.”

“For someone who claims to hate sweet, you’re very good at it. Thank you, Zoro.” You reply, leaning against him just a little bit. The skin-to-skin contact makes Zoro heat up a bit, and when you lean in closer, you can’t contain the small giggle that leaves you. “But I feel like I should let you know that Valentine’s Day isn’t for another few days.”

Zoro’s expression drops once again, and that stupid annoying feeling of irritation fills him. His head snaps in your direction, and he visibly bristles. It makes you laugh.

“Dammit! Why the hell were you giving everyone chocolates so early then, woman?” 

“Because I didn’t want them to go bad! Plus, I’m horrible with surprises. I get too impatient.” You laugh again, and that laugh somehow both irritates and soothes Zoro. He’ll never understand the effect you have on him.

Grumbling, he grabs the bottle of sake again. Before he can bring it to his lips, though, your hand moves up to his chin, gently pulling it so that he looks right at you. With a grin, you lean forward and press your lips tenderly against his. That irritation in him is gone, and his eye slowly shuts as he feels you both melt into the kiss. Goddamn, Zoro hates sweets, but the taste of your lips against his is addicting. His chest aches when the kiss breaks, but your lips linger against one another.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You murmur.

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

♡ STARSCREAM [TFP] HCs ver: A.3. SMUT

NSFW under the cut 🗣‼️ MDNI, 18+

scenario A: a Megatron loyalist being pursued (and falling for) Megatron's most vehement opposition, enemies to lovers, slow-burn(ish)

warnings: NSFW headcanons. starscream is mostly bottoming.

note: don't worry, this doesn't tie into the main story in any way. this is sort of self indulgent.

prev: part 1, part 2 next:----

PART THREE ‼️ 3000 words

— Starscream is very prudish when it comes to this sort of thing. Mostly because he doesn't like being vulnerable. Ever. To him, interfacing is purely for pleasure. So he usually self-services instead of really seeking anyone out. And his pride refuses to let him seek someone out to start with. So he's repressed and frustrated. Very.

— He knows when exactly the thoughts started plaguing him. Before, he only ever looked at you and went ‘whatever’. Starscream wouldn't admit it but he liked how sturdy you were; taller, bigger and stronger. He definitely found that appealing but Starscream would rather let Megatron rule the Decepticons peacefully than ever admit that.

— It started off the first time during his short-lived reign over the Decepticons. He remembers it oh, so clearly. The Air Commander couldn't forget it even if he wanted to, which oddly enough, he never wanted to forget it deep down in his spark.

His optics are blown wide as his wings droop, he was just about to knock on the door of your quarters before he froze at the sound he'd just heard. Your counsel has unfortunately been quite useful to his new Decepticon order so he came here seeking you out like usual for some insignificant task. There's a heat rapidly building up in his frame as he hears another, louder noise. Almost like… a moan and by Primus, it sounded nice to listen to.

Starscream can hear you, faintly from the other side and he's thoroughly confused. His fans roar to life, it does make him panic but it seems you're too occupied with… whatever it was that you couldn't hear any of his reactions. His fans are spinning and he's trying to manually make it stop, trying to override protocol but it seems his HUD is floored about this involuntary response being necessary for overheating.

His vents hitch as he slowly leans towards the door of your quarters, helm pressing against the cold metal and his audials catch the noises with some more clarity.

You were moaning. He can hear soft, muffled wet noises.

And unfortunately, it actually sounded… Appealing.

Wait. Were you…?

Starscream quite literally jumps away from the door as the realization hits him like a freight train, his wings perking up and the heat emitting from his faceplates tenfold. The seeker is in a flustered panic. No! He's not supposed to feel this way about you! The charge immediately surges down to his modesty panelling, array coming online and he can feel his spike pressurised slowly and valve slicken up.

All this from just your noises?

Imagine what your- NO. He halts that thought before it even registers in his mind, last thing he needed was a mental image! Starscream does NOT want to think of the bot he blames all his ignominy on in this way.

He decides to quickly leave to his own quarters without so much as making a sound, he doesn't want to alert you nor does he want to stand around like some sort of pervert. For once in his functioning, Starscream feels ashamed. Stomping away quickly as he gets a comfortable distance away from your quarters.

Look what you've done to him! Now he has to deal with this mess! He nearly bumps into a Vehicon as all sorts of thoughts consume him, grumbling and continuing to walk at a faster pace instead of screeching at them.

Were you pleasuring yourself? Or were you pleasuring another? For some odd reason, the idea of you being with someone didn't sit right with the Seeker. It made something in his spark churn and he hates the feeling. So much. His fans continue to run, thankfully his quarters are not too far away. Just across the hall.

What do you think about when you're pleasuring yourself? Did you use your valve or your spike more? Were you using a toy? Maybe you were with someone? What if he was that someone?

The last thought makes him stop dead in his tracks and take a deep in-vent to calm himself as he's right by his door.

Why was he thinking such things!?

What did you do to him!?!?!?

— Ever since, he's often had thoughts of you in more inappropriate settings and it's been plaguing him. Especially when you're laying down on some medical berth in the medbay and not even bothering to stand up and greet him. He's trying his best not to stare at your form.

— The worst thing is how he finds himself moaning out your designation when he had to relieve himself afterward. It's something he's going to take to the Afterspark with him. He gets more tense around you, quiet even for the next few days.

— Starscream buries what happens deep within his processor. He's going to try his very damned best that he didn't almost catch you pleasuring yourself.

— Until he actually does catch you in your quarters, given Starscream shows up there and this time you forgot to lock your quarters door with the keycode. He was frustrated and having a bad day because Soundwave wasn't cooperating with him so he couldn't hear the faint noises like he did last time. He waltzed in like he owned the place and stopped dead in his tracks as the door closed behind him with the most flustered look ever as he catches you stroking your spike with three digits deep in your valve.

He's frozen in place, as if he'd been hit with the immobilizer. It's awkward. He's never seen you look like this, so vulnerable. Hazy optics wide, a deer in the headlights. You clearly want to scream, or say something. His fans are roaring at the sight in front of him and it's even better worse than any of those dreadful fantasies he's had.

There you are, sitting on your berth. Spike standing tall, fully pressurized and ready as pre-fluids drip down. He can feel his valve practically online immediately at the sight, lubricant coating mesh beneath his modesty panelling. Your valve looks so plush, glistening under the dim lit lights of your quarters, you definitely knew how to set the mood for self servicing.

He's staring at your exposed array and you too are just stuck in place, three digits halfway through pumping your valve only for the last mech you wanted to see invite himself into your room with no consideration whatsoever. He can see you're just as shocked as he is.

The words are stuck in Starscream’s vocalizer, he wants to say something. Anything. Badly. He can feel his intake practically watering, he's trying not to stare. Trying to get the cluttered mess of unholy thoughts out of his processor.

But only for his humiliation to never end, his frame betrays him and his own panels snap open which definitely catches your attention. He whimpers and takes a step back when he realizes your optics are fixated on his exposed array, puffy valve lips practically gleaming with lubricant and charge. It's making your spike practically throb while Starscream's own pressurized spike remains within its housing. His gray mesh coated with lubricant, glistening under dim lights.

You can see his interest and it serves to excite you even more for some reason.

Maybe… you could make the most of this unfortunate instead of sitting there left with just your servos.

He can hear your engines purr as you slowly crawl towards him and it makes his spark jump into his intake as he stammers. Wanting to say something. The sly smile on your derma makes him gulp but he has a feeling he isn't going to complain too much.

You're inviting him. And he can't resist. It's like a moth to a flame in that moment, he knows he shouldn't do this. Not in the slightest. But his spark is hammering as you get off the berth. He's not had someone in such a manner in so long and the options aboard The Nemesis are as limited as can be.

Maybe if he learnt how to knock for once in his life.

— It should be noted that Starscream has ZERO experience with intimacy or any sort of relationship. He always pushes away anyone that gets too close, he's a one mech parade. It's him, himself and his alt mode. That's all he cares about. He won't admit his lack of experience. Ever. So you end up having to guide him and he's just going to mutter out something like “I know what I'm doing!” or “Yes, that's.. -ah what I was about to do..”.

— Even if he did have experience, it exclusively has only ever ended as a one time thing or encounter at best and can be counted on one servo. Starscream is definitely reluctant to do this. Unless he's that needy or desperate. In this case, he's needy because you've been stuck in his helm ever since. He's never had a repeated encounter, Starscream figures that the two of you are just in a ‘friends with benefits’ set up. But he's not complaining half as much because the benefits are definitely worth it. He's a repressed and frustrated individual.

— Cue snarky back talk during interfacing. Mostly from his side. One sided hate sex, if you could even call it that. Starscream muttering about how insufferable you are if you're teasing him and how much he hates you. But you, being you, really couldn't care in the slightest. He hates it when he sees the cocky grin on your face when he gives in to the pleasure you're giving him.

— He wants to top, to dominate. He does. So badly. Doesn't mean he is very good at it. But the ego trip he gets from frantically fucking your valve deep with his spike is unlike anything else, especially since you're a bigger bot and he's thought of you as a threat for a long time before all of these newer developments. Starscream has an aversion to being submissive even if he knows deep down he would prefer it that way. But once you manage to coax it out of him, things will change. He's somewhat of a switch but definitely leans more to the submissive side.

— When he does try to spike you down, he quickly loses his rhythm and his thrusts end up being frantic and desperate. Starscream overloads first, he can't keep it together for the life of him. He tries. He really, really does.

— Starscream isn't the best at eating you out but sucking you off is a different story. He's surprisingly good at sucking off spike. He definitely has a thing for sucking you off but again, it's not something he's proud of. Regardless, he loves the feel of your spike in his intake. He can see the way your vents hitch or the extremely rare whimper you let out when he does so. He'll even swallow all your transfluid if he's that lost, most of the time he just spits it out in a bin next to your berth.

— Starscream is very vocal, he lives up to his name so he likes it when you make noise as well because it makes him feel like he's not the only desperate one here. But the two of you have to keep it down otherwise Soundwave is going to be very confused when he's walking past the living quarters.

— Also because Starscream absolutely does not want to be seen like this. If he's seen getting his valve full or seen frantically thrusting into you, he might explode on the spot. He's the temporary leader of the Decepticons! He can't be seen in such a vulnerable situation.

— He doesn't like admitting it but he loves it when you spike him. Starscream loves it when you have him folded on your berth, your thick spike deep within his valve and reaching all his pleasure points. You're bigger than him but it serves to make the stretch all the more delicious. Also means you can stuff him full and it makes his flight engines purr at the thought. Starscream absolutely hates knowing he's as submissive as they come.

— Deep and rough. Obliterate that twink. But being slow and gentle, it really gets to him. It gets to him a lot more. It will leave him craving more.

— It's easy to overwhelm him. Especially if you're spiking him and while his frame can handle a lot, he does not have good stamina. He's going to be a drooling mess when he's done. Top it off with some affectionate praise and he's finished.

— He definitely has a thing for praise. Starscream loves praise generally but in the berth, it serves to boost his confidence more than his ego which really helps an insecure mech like him. It also serves as reassurance because he wants to know he's doing a good job. Especially when he's taking your spike. If you coo out praise into his audials while he's squirming on your lap, stuffed with your spike, he will whimper and tear up a bit.

— Nuzzle into him, leave small bite marks where only you could see, pepper him with soft, chaste kisses; he will definitely come back for more, even if it means he'd be teary from how overwhelming it is. He'd be standing in front of your door with a grimace on his derma and pleading desperation to feel loved twinkling in his optics.

— He's never felt wanted before so making him feel like you enjoy having him, making him feel loved will have him crawling back to you every single time.

— Ride. Him. Your stabilizing servos straddling his thin waist, going up and down his spike AND he has to look up at how much you're enjoying it? He's going to die.

— He's picky about positions, if you're on his spike then he's going to want to see your faceplates because of the ego boost. But if he's taking your spike then he's going to want any position where his face isn't seen because he doesn't want to let you know he's enjoying this more than he should. And if you make him look at you while you're deep in his valve then he's going to feel small, vulnerable and incredibly lost.

— Starscream has decent endurance, he is Megatron's personal punching bag so his frame is tougher than it looks. It takes a bit to really work him up. But he has these very few extremely sensitive spots that will have him a mess for you.

— If you degrade him, call him a spike sleeve or a desperate mess or anything like that, it will have him embarrassingly riled up. I stand by the fact that Starscream is somewhat of a masochist (he's ashamed of it) and I will die on that hill.

— Cockwarming might actually be the death of him because he's impatient and he gives in easily. It doesn't depend if it's his spike in your valve or your spike in his valve.

— You make a joke during a time like this and he will flip. Flustered protests as you're sensually railing him. But it makes him realize that you're not some drone-like Decepticon that just follows whatever Megatron says, you've got a lot more going on and he strangely finds himself drawn to those extra bits about yourself.

— If you have a flight frame, Starscream will be obsessed with your wings. He's constantly going to try to tease you by caressing them. Maybe even kissing them on the rare occasion he wants to dominate with your back against him. He knows exactly what to get a flight-frame riled up so he will be somewhat of a bratty tease.

— Use a toy on him and he will turn into mush. Pleading, huffing and begging for release as you tease him, servos cuffed and viberator deep in his valve as you stroke his spike, looking down at him with an affectionate lust that has his flight engines purring. He might glitch out his vocalizer. But you're gonna need to get him to agree to that which will not be easy.

— dirty secret: he wants you to use him to your spark’s content. Starscream wants you to use his valve and spike until he's blissed out, flat on your berth. Until his tanks are filled with your fluids and your spike has nothing left to give him. Until his spike is milked dry. Until the only thing his static processor can remember is your name. But like usual, his pride and embarrassment will never let him say this.

— He's more vanilla, surprisingly enough. Starscream has seen various… Content before in his life. He won't suggest anything. But if you bring it up, he might consider it. TFP Starscream would never be the one to bring it up. If it puts him in a dominating position, the more he'd agree.

— Aftercare with him is... awkward. It's usually the two of you panting as the both of you are flat on your berth. Taking your sweet time to recover. He will be pissed off if you've left some marks in noticeable places though. Sometimes the two of you talk a bit and Starscream finds it sort of soothing and pleasant, especially if you're considerate about your new berthwarmer (call him that when you're not interfacing and he will throw a whole flustered tantrum). But if you tease him afterward as the two of lay, he's just going to grumble and turn to the side away from you as you chuckle.

— Sometimes you go overboard and he's just knocked out next you, deep in recharge so you just caress his backstruts and wings. Instinctively, he will nuzzle closer to you.

— Leaving your quarters is sort of easy, given he has barged into your quarters to throw a barrage of commands at you or to rant. Most of the bots know that so him walking out of there is not really raising any optical ridges. Just make sure to help him clean up before he goes. But Starscream won't return the favor, don't expect him to. He doesn't want transfluid stains on him when he's walking through the halls. One time, he left your quarters after a wonderful frag and he was met with none other than Soundwave and his spark nearly jumped out his intake. But thankfully, the Communications Officer didn't think too much on it, he was just going to his own quarters to check up on Lazerbeak's maintenance. Until Starscream messed it up with a nervous laugh. Now he's VERY suspicious.

— Trying to absolutely convince himself he hates you. He does. The interfacing is just too good.

— Definitely going to act like nothing ever happened between the two of you while you just stand in the background with a sly grin, servos behind your back. He tries not to think of what the two of you do when he's busy doing whatever. Sometimes you give him a sleazy, knowing smile the next day after ruining his valve and he's going to look so absolutely done with you and flustered at the same time.

— He'll be snappy, snarky and rude to you when you're out on The Nemesis trying to do your job but behind your quarters’ doors? He's your good boy.

extra:

starscream whenever he's trying to approach you in the past,

i hope i served well! a bit rusty on my robot smut writing skills haha... i genuinely hope all of you enjoyed this filththis lovely commentor @wibblewobblepop gave me the idea for the whole catching them jorking it so SHOUTOUT TO THEM‼️‼️‼️

[munsster]

road trip (trope bingo)

A/N: thought i might try this format out. also introducing a new face to my tumblr repertoire. i’ve written marvel before, just never on this site. enjoy!! (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think Bucky is shallow for rejecting a pretty stranger in North Dakota. Little do you know. 1.6k words

Warnings: fluff, dummies not talking about their feelings, pet names (doll), slight angst but resolved, perhaps mutual pinging, a really good hug, playful bullying, cursing

"Ooh, she's cute."

You've been doing this for over an hour. He's downed at least four coffees by now. And the worst part is you call it finding a suitable mate. But he's just not interested in the women you're scouting for him at a rest stop a few miles out from Fargo, North Dakota. He would've just left, gone and sat in the truck, but he'd feel bad leaving you rambling to yourself when you're the one paying for this meal.

"Come on, Buck, you're no fun," you huff, dropping your spoon into the thick mug now emptied of hot cocoa.

"You're right. Can we go now?" He starts to slide out of his seat when you scoff. He goes still like a deer in headlights. This should be fun.

"James Buchanan, you're telling me none of the lovely ladies in this diner tickle your fancy? Not even third barstool? She's tall, Buck, like... model tall," you suggest with your brows raised.

"I'm not... we're in North Dakota, you think that's what I'm lookin' for?"

"Just one date! You wouldn't take her on one, single date? The little bar across the street seems sensible, why not?"

"Um—"

"Tell meee," you whine, leaning over the sticky, vinyl tablecloth with a pout.

He shrugs. "Not my type."

"Bullshit. She's everybody's type. She's my type, Bucky. Are you blind or just plain stupid?"

"I'm not interested."

You pull a face like you're offended on her behalf. Bucky rolls his eyes and wishes you'd drop it.

"Oh, I get it," you say. Leaned back, arms stretched across the length of the seat, you huff and glare at him. "You think you're too good for her, huh? Just 'cause she's a North Dakota ten, and you're a Brooklyn eight, you think that makes you better, don't you?"

"What? An eight?" he mumbles, shaking his head.

"Ugh, you men gross me out sometimes. Massive egos, teensy little brains," you say, slapping a twenty on the table and standing with a vicious squint. "Well, let me learn you something, James"—you loom over him and poke your pointer finger at his chest—"you're shallow, and you're no better than her. You prob'ly couldn't take her out if you wanted to. Goodnight."

You huff and walk away, but he chuckles and calls after you: "It's noon, doll." Flipping him off, you march out into the parking lot. He considers the woman for a moment. You called him a Brooklyn eight. She's pretty, he'll admit, but he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't interested. Bucky's seen the far stretches of the Earth, which means he's seen women of all forms. Accountants and soldiers from all over, all professions, all languages. All beautiful. But nothing intrigues him quite as much as you do.

...

"Did you ask her out, or are you choosing to remain a coward?" You've got your boots propped on the dashboard, the truck bumbling eighty down the highway. An emery board swipes back and forth at your middle fingernail as you snap your bubblegum.

"Come on, doll, play nice. We're leavin' anyway, didn't want to hurt her feelings," he grumbles.

"Tough. Doesn't make you any less of a pussy, Barnes."

You flick the nail file at his cheek and drop your feet heavily on the hot car mat. You called him a Brooklyn eight. You cringe at the remembrance while Bucky revels in it. He even grinned stupid all the way back to the parking lot. To himself, but still. He hates how deep under his skin you are. He hates how he likes the itch.

His tongue twists with all the things he could have said. He should have said. But he grips the steering wheel tight and drives till you cross the border into Minnesota.

"Wanna go anywhere before Wisconsin? They've got... lakes here," he shyly suggests, voice soft, hoping you'll just ignore him and turn up the radio. He doesn't think you'll ever ignore him, even if he did prefer it.

"Only if I could push you into one of them."

"Listen, kid—"

"Kid? That's great, Bucky. It's getting dark, why don't we just find a motel." You cross your arms. The cold is getting to you. Even in a down jacket and two pairs of pants. It gets like that up north.

He does what you tell him because the last thing he needs is for you to hold another grudge against him. This one's quaint, so he gets the last double available, chuckling nervously when the older woman at the front desk mistakes you for a married couple.

"Sure you don't want a single, honey? Not gettin' any kids outta separate beds—"

"Nope—thanks, miss—that's—double is fine, double's perfect, thanks," he huffs. You chuckle.

She gives a rolling, belly laugh, head tossed back as she croaks, "Won't file any noise complaints against youse! Have a fun night."

"Geez, she was great," you sigh, still smiling from the ridiculous interaction. You flop face down onto the bed closest to the window, rattling the ice from the crevices in your boots. It crunches to the floor and you wriggle out of your coat as Bucky locks himself into the pale yellow bathroom.

He starts mumbling from the other side of the door, so you sit up and toe your boots onto the floor with a thud. Digging your fingertips into the edge of the hastily tucked sheets, you stare at a wine stain in the middle of the beige carpet. At least it smells nice in here. Even if half the lights are out, and cable doesn't come through clear enough to watch.

You find yourself, cheek pressed to the door, eyes wide as you listen through the flimsy wood.

"I don't think so, Steve. No, listen, it's like... beyond repair. She wouldn't take an apology even if I knew what i was sorry for—no—she's way too good for me, I can't do that to her."

Still moping over women found in North Dakota's lowest rated diners? That's highly unlike him. But even Bucky's a wildcard six-thousand miles into a roadtrip. You press closer, chewing your lip and closing your eyes.

"No, no, everything—this stuff's easier for you, pal, you don't get it, 'kay? I'm just saying... I mean, even a stranger thought we were married"—What—"has to mean something, right? Even strangers are realizing... there's something... there. I just don't want to accidentally—no, I know, not like that, I mean...well, I like her a lot and I don't want it to scare her—"

You back up slightly, hands held in front of you like surrender. Not out of fear, but realization. That's why he didn't ask her out. Or even fish for her number. Because—

You hit the floor with a thump.

"Steve. I gotta go."

The door whips open and floods the room with warm light. You scramble to your feet.

"Were you... I was just talking to... Did you hear any of that?"

You shake your head. He shoves his hands into the shallow pockets of his jeans.

"Okay," he says with a nod, "good." He blows hot air out of his mouth and runs a swift hand through his hair. But he doesn't meet your eyes. Like a little kid so terrified of fibbing that he'd rather swim deeper into the abyss than float to the surface. Can't catch his damn breath around here.

"So..."

"Goodnight, Bucky!" you chirp, turning on your heel with a whoosh of air. And he stops you in your tracks, hand on your bicep. You don't turn back around, stuck staring at the foot of your bed.

"Doll," he whispers, roped up by fear and a pinch of self-pity. Attending his own funeral with a sick smile on his face. "Just how much did you hear."

You spin on the balls of your feet, going hot in the face, fueled by the electricity at his fingertips. "A lot."

"Oh."

You nod and try your best non-psychotic smile. "Sorry."

"No, no... don't be," he says, trying his own. So you're just a couple of smirking idiots at a stalemate in a stale motel room. A couple of idiots with feelings for each other. Unresolved feelings. Unspoken, too.

"I actually—could I?" You point behind him into the cramped bathroom, and he lets go of you like it's his last move before you put him in check. Before he has to hand you the game. Though, he'd do that in a heartbeat. Every game of his is yours. "Thanks."

"No problem." He shuts his eyes when you close the door with a calculated tenderness. Like you don't want to frazzle his poor heart.

But then why would you open the door again? Why would you wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle into his back? Why would you make it all so much worse and spread your fingers over his abdomen, taking a deep breath when he runs his hand down your forearm and turns to face you. Then you melt with his strong arms holding you thisclose.

"Like you a lot, too, Barnes. You're just a big dunce a lot of the time. But that's like... half the draw or whatever," you mumble into his shoulder. And you've never been this close, and he thinks he could pass out. Become a chalk outline in a dusty motel in Minnesota. But if it happened like this, he'd be okay with that statistic.

marvel masterlist

[betelgeuses-wife]

Hi there!! Could I request a sweet oneshot where the Reader cuddles with BJ, combing through his hair while he curls up with her? Romantic ship bordering on platonic would be lovely!! 🥰 thank you!!

If course! I'll do my best! I hope you like it. Please let me know feedback, it helps a lot!

-----

Creature Comforts

🪲🧃

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You weren't entirely sure what had gotten Bee in such a put-out mood but after this long, you refrained from trying to guess, it could've been for a number of reasons or just one, perhaps one that wouldn't seem much of a big deal to you but that was Bee for you. You were used to just giving him comfort when he asked for it because it wasn't too often when he wasn't his usual, theatrical self.

Adventures in Babysitting was playing on the TV while you both were on the couch, you were sat up with your legs resting on the footrest and Bee was laying with his head in your lap; a pillow under him. He seemed unusually quiet and you wondered what was on his mind, usually he'd have made some crude jokes about the lead actress by now. He'd have found a number of ways to try to make you laugh but it was radio silence on his end. With Bee's lack of personality showing, you were barely paying attention to the movie yourself but you weren't particularly in a bad mood, you just wanted to find a way to make Bee...well. Himself again. You knew people had their off days and you supposed ghosts did too.

You were running your fingers through his hair gently, not really even aware you were doing so until you caught a knot and heard Bee grumble.

A "Sorry...", whispered, slipped from your before pursed lips. Your gaze settling on Bee rather than the screen, now slightly more focused on gently getting the knot out without disturbing him more. Bee didn't often care about his appearance either, he'd rarely ask for help with his hair but he hadn't complained since he had come to rest his head in your lap about a half an hour ago. So, you figured he didn't hate it.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of snuggling up with him and taking advantage of the silence but in all honesty you wanted to just comfort him. There were a number of things that were left unspoken between the two of you, each of you held your own secrets about your dynamic. Perhaps denial was at play but at times, your flirtatious, playful moments you shared bordered closer to your feelings and wants for Bee than you'd care to admit. You stated you'd only let him be around so long as it was platonic and here you were questioning that.

"What's on ya mind, Sweets?" His gravelly voice pulled you from your thoughts. Perhaps your lack of detangling had earned his attention.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been quiet too." Your eyes locked onto his as Bee had turned to look up at you.

"Just'a thinkin, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"What. 'N' ruin your quiet time?"

"I'll take that as a no then. Want to cuddle...then?" Your voice softer, perhaps given the quiet, almost tender exchange of time you had shared over the last hour, it felt a little strange. Perhaps edging into romantic territory but you hid your thoughts as you felt Bee move to sit up.

"C'mere then" he offered as his arms hung open.

Your momentary worry about overstepping boundaries was washed away and you shifted over into his arms, sinking into his hold as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick squeeze. He wasn't warm but it was still comforting. You knew how to compensate for the cons of him being a ghost. The house was always made warmer in the evenings during the colder seasons so you didn't notice the coldness of his touch, a hot water bottle also helped too. But having a cold body body hug helped in the summer. A welcomed feeling when you started to overheat. You found ways to adapt to what were issues before. Perhaps the fact you had embraced ways to make living together work had been the reason he trusted you, and you loved seeing his reaction to your ideas, you saw how he had felt seen, properly seen after decades of people wanting to just get rid of him.

You could feel as he relaxed, glancing up to see his eyes now on the screen, perhaps whatever had been troubling him had settled, he seemed more content with you in his arms. Maybe that was just your mind looking into it too much though. You weren't willing to say anything was for certain.

"Like what ya see, Tootz?"

"Shut up, Juice."

"Whatcha gunna do? Make me?"

You rolled your eyes as you watched him raised his eyebrows a few times and winked. You swatted his chest and turned back to the TV. But you were still aware of his hand on your lower back, rubbing it confortingly in small motions, something you often had needed after a long day but you supposed he had gotten so used to it that he was doing it without realising.

You hadn't really realised it until that moment but you had both slotted into living together quite well, and had learnt how best to comfort each other, even without knowingly doing so. You had him to come home to and he knew you'd always come back or let him know if you weren't. You both gave each other someone to rely on, at a time you both needed it. Perhaps that was the blessing the people before you saw as a curse.

[servicpop]

i'm doing it, are you? domestic au ; detective oc (callahan) x bottom male reader

: cw : dialogue bolded , use of daddy (1) , phone sex

Callahan was a quiet man. Usually at home he wouldn't speak a word to you with the exception of a few breaths and murmurs, asking you to move aside when he's walking by or telling you to come sit with him when he's reading a book.

Callahan was quiet, yes, but that didn't mean he didn't care about you. He'd call you over, fingers tangled in the stiff pages of a classic as he beckons you over with his index finger. When you so obediently oblige, he loosely wraps an arm around your waist, hoisting you closer to his body. Callahan's fingers trace down the exposed flesh of your thigh, grabbing it and draping it over his own leg.

He doesn't say another word to you, he just held you in his embrace while he read. You weren't complaining though, with multiple hours of seemingly unsolvable cases and heated discussions was sure to have burnt Callahan out, and you respected and cherished the little moments you two were together.

The majority of the week had been Callahan in his office, staying late while he chipped away at a particularly difficult case. You barely saw him, only seeing him in the dead of night taking a shower and quietly slipping into the blankets of your shared bed. He was always gone by morning.

Callahan couldn't take it! It had been so long since he's got a proper look at your adorable face — he hates to admit how deeply he adores you. His index and middle finger were pressed into his temple, rubbing deep circles into his head. Callahan sighed, throwing his pen onto the stack of papers and folders as he leaned back into the chair, picking up the phone he discarded onto the corner of his desk to avoid distractions.

Your contact was at the top of his list. He was quick to call you — face time you. When you picked up, Callahan couldn't help the small huff of relief to see your face so close to the screen. "Hey," He murmured, wedging his phone between his keyboard and his monitor, letting the phone stand on its own.

"What's up, Marshall?" He just wished you'd actually say his first name for once; 'Marshall' reminded him too much of work. He watched as you mimicked his actions, placing your phone against a cup full of ice on your bedside table, praying that it wouldn't fall over. His eyes flickered and a smile threatened his lips. You were tightly wrapped in your blanket, hair dishevelled, and a toothy smile on your stupid face.

"How... has your day been?" Callahan asked, his voice monotonous and low. His fingers rested on his thigh while he watched you through the screen, his eyes twitching at the sight. You shuffled to propose yourself up on an elbow and Callahan got a peek of your collarbone and a hint of your perky chest. You were wearing your pyjama shirt with nothing underneath.

"It's been alright," The breath Callahan let out was one that would be recognised in bed, shaky and filled with desire. Your voice was so soft and almost grumbly from how comfortable you were. Since when did his pants get unbuttoned?

Your eyes fluttered when you noticed his odd movements, his eyes seemed to be trained to the screen and his hand disappeared under the desk. You could only see his watch. "What are you doing?" You giggle, your eyebrow raising in slight confusion. Callahan just sends a glare to you through the camera, the slight hitches of his breath were picked up by the microphone.

"Take it off, show me," He grumbled, punctuating every word. Callahan glanced down at himself, his thick cock draped over his palm, pulsating with need. Shit, he was so down bad for you. You seemed to comply with no hesitation, shifting the camera so it could prop up against the headboard. You were sat on your shins, staring up into the camera with those round eyes of yours.

He watched as you slipped out of your pants before stripping off your shirt. "Face down, ass up," Callahan barked out a command like he was giving an order. His hand dragged from the base to the head, biting back a groan as he watched you bend down, your hair spilling over the sheets as you laid your head flat on the bed.

"Put a finger in." His voice was hushed, almost embarrassed from how lewd his words were. He felt like a teenage boy asking someone for nudes. It wasn't mature, he knew that. But you somehow brought that out of him.

Callahan watched as your arm tucked underneath your body, your finger plunging into yourself. He could see it with the way your eyebrows knitted and your lips parted into a thin 'O'. His fingers grazed his tip, circling his thumb and his index around the head, imitating what it would feel like pushing into you.

"Put another one in, you know I'm bigger then that," He breathed out pushing his fingers along his length with the timing of your hands. Callahan glanced back at himself on his phone screen, realising that he wasn't giving you much to work with other than his voice and the image of his face.

Reaching out his left hand, Callahan pulled his phone forward and tilted the screen down so you could see his entire dick plaster the screen. He still left a bit of his face in frame — he knew you liked it that way. With the timing of your hand, he fisted his cock with the same pace. Everytime you rocked yourself against your fingers, Callahan pumped himself.

Just the sight of you gripping his white sheets with one hand and the other occupied with pleasuring yourself, caused beads of pre-cum to bead from the slit of his tip. "Faster," He grunted, his hand turning into one blur on your screen from how fast he was moving his hand, "You wanna make your daddy proud, yeah? Go, let me see those pretty eyes." Right now, Callahan would've gripped your hair and lifted your face off the bed to get a good look at your face. He was enamoured by how your eyes were always wet with thick tears.

When you lifted your head, Callahan busted all over his hand. He groaned — as if he was caught off-guard from how quickly he just came — and sat there with a hand over his cockhead, attempting to catch the sticky substance in his hand instead of it spilling all over his desk.

He breathed heavily, his sunken eyes glanced to his screen and saw you mirror his actions, your thighs trembling as white painted the already white sheets. "Miss me that much, Callahan?" You teased, wiping the back of your palm against your forehead to collect any stray drops of sweat.

When he heard you coo his first name, Callahan knew he had to come home. He turned off his camera before grabbing a tissue, roughly cleaning himself up before pulling his pants on, fumbling with his belt as he slid it on. "I'm coming home," was all Callahan said before he ended the call with you.

a / n ; just something quick for Callahan ... this isn't canon btw !! an alternate universe where reader is Callahan's spouse or partner !

[222col]

hello lovely <3 if it interests you, how about maneater! x rafe 🤭 if you wanted to put a spin on it she could have gotten with people he knows in the past (like jj or topper) but it just makes him want her more! whatever your heart desires! love all your content!

maneater!reader x rafe cameron

summary: rafe can't stand to hear how all the other boys have had you anymore, he needs a taste for himself

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw

꒰ notes ꒱ ty bby!!! <333 would be open to a part two of this if ppl wanted <3

it wasn't a secret how badly rafe wanted you, half of figure eight had seen the way he lusted after you. every rager his eyes were glued on you, borderline stalking you around the country club on the rare occasion you showed up there. he'd never had to work so hard to get a girl in his life, probably half the reason he wanted you so fucking bad.

what didn't help? how many fucking stories he'd had to hear about you. look, rafe knew that you'd been with your fair amount of people on the island. he couldn't give two shits about that. what he did care about though was topper rubbing it in his face how he'd had you. fuckin' topper. you'd slept with topper, but denied him? drove him crazy.

every weekend rafe had to listen to topper remind him of how you felt, the way you kissed him, the filthy stories echo in his brain constantly. rafe hated it. hated how jealous he got, it was ridiculous— he hadn't even had you. hadn't even touched your skin, yet he was jealous that his best friend had.

he knew that you wanted him, you just loved the game of cat and mouse more. you loved the way he craved you, how he was working so hard to win you over. nothing brought you more joy than putting rafe through the ringer, god knows he deserved it. he had been served everything on a silver platter, he deserved to work for something for once in his life.

"no." you mutter, not even meeting rafe's eyes as his mouth opens.

"i didn't even fucking say anything." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as his hands ball into his fists by his sides. he's trying so hard to not just reach out and pull you against his body. "i knew what you were gonna say," you shrug, sipping whatever liquor you found in topper's kitchen from your red solo cup.

your eyes meet his through your lashes, looking to him as though his conversation alone was a waste of your time. you always gave him that look, as though he wasn't worth your energy. rafe hated how much he loved it. "you were just gonna tell me some more bullshit, don't need to hear it to know it."

gulping down more of the liquid in your cup, before setting it down on the counter, hands on your hips as you look around the party. "huh, he's kinda hot for a pogue." you smirk, as your eyes cast over jj maybank. rafe's neck snaps around to follow your vision, jaw clenched as he spots the blonde.

"fucks he even doing here— sorry, wait—" he sneers, head turning back around to look at you. "you're not going anywhere near maybank." rafe spits, his hand gripping your upper arm. desperately trying not to acknowledge this is the first time he's touched you. no, he's too fucking angry at the idea of jj fucking maybank having you before he did.

"oh, aren't i?" you smirk, jj wasn't even the highest on your hit list tonight, but anything to piss rafe off. "watch me."

no way was rafe letting that happen, his grip tightens around your arm as you attempt to walk away from him. pulling you straight back to him, closer now, once you'd taken a step away. your body now fully pressed up against his, rafe's free hand moving to wrap around your waist, making sure there was no chance you could free yourself from his grip.

rolling your eyes as he does, but you can't help the smirk that threatens your features. "why can't you just admit you want me?" he mumbles, lips by your ear before they start to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. "where's the fun in that?" you whisper, tilting your neck to expose more skin to him— rafe smirking as you do, feeling you start to finally give in to him.

the music playing starts to become background noise, your focus on the way rafe's lips feel against your skin, how his hands have snaked up under your tank. sprawled out against your back, keeping your chest firmly pressed up against his. humming against your skin as he feels your arms move to drape around his neck.

"you drive me crazy," his words are muffled against your skin, lips trailing up your jaw before he captures your lips with his own. immediately pushing his tongue into your mouth, groaning against your lips. tongues slide over each other, fighting for dominance while rafe pushes your body back against the kitchen counter.

your hands hold the back of his neck, angling your head to kiss him deeper, gasping into his mouth as rafe's hands hook under your thighs, hitching you up onto the kitchen counter. he slots himself between your thighs, hands gripping your hips tightly, lips never leaving yours. he couldn't care less about the onlookers eyes on the two of you, he wanted people to see you with him. needed the entire fucking party to see that he'd finally gotten what he wanted.

your lips tasted like vodka and cherry cola, and rafe never wanted to stop tasting it. one hand tangles through your hair, tugging gently as his lips slip from your mouth back down your neck. rafe nips at the base of your throat, sucking a mark into your skin. he wanted to make sure everyone in this house knew he'd put it there, that rafe had marked your skin. "come upstairs." he mumbles, pulling back to look at your face.

his eyes darkened, the hint of your red lipstick smudged around his mouth. an evil smirk across your face, leaning back on your palms as you shake your head no. you couldn't give him all the satisfaction in one night. "you're fucking killing me." he groans, head falling against your shoulder.

"i'm sure you'll live." you smirk, patting him on the shoulder before pushing past him to jump down from the counter. smoothing down your outfit as you start to walk away.

"bye top— oops, bye rafe!" you were fucking evil, he couldn't get enough.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.