#but oh my goodness I’m not rushing into another bout with them
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
river-of-wine · 30 days ago
Text
I just beat my first Thunderjaw at level TWENTY NINE so whoever actually did Cauldron ZETA at level twenty. How did you do that
13 notes · View notes
darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago
Text
A Scary Little Christmas
Warnings: non/dubcon, alcohol, humiliation, spanking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Summary: You make a mistake while cooking Christmas dinner.
Character: Frank Castle
Day One of the December Daze Challenge. Prompt - i didn't know the egg nog was spiked! + don’t look at them, why are you looking at them? look at me. they’re not going to help you. - source
Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
Tumblr media
You pour yourself another glass of the rich eggnog. It’s unlike any you’ve had before. Luxurious almost. You sip on the clear mug of the festive fuel as you flutter around the warm kitchen. The stove sends a radiating swelter through the space, along with the scent of turkey and thyme. 
You set the cup down and flip on the stove light. You have a look at the turkey through the window. You take the thermometer and stand, gripping the handle as your head ripples oddly. Ooh, it must be the heat. You should open a window, yet the blistering cold hardly sounds much better. 
You open the door and reach through to poke the turkey with the tip. You wait until the temperature pops up. Almost there. 
“Peach,” Frank’s voice drawls from the front room. 
As always, you are diligent in your response. You rush you to look in on him as you press your sweaty palms to the front of your apron. You give a sheepish smile. 
“Yes, sir,” you say. “Bird’s almost done.” 
“Not too worried ‘bout that,” he wiggles his can at you. “Get Bill too.” 
Your Christmas is small. Just you, him, and his best friend. An old marine buddy who sleeps as much on your couch as in his own bed. You don’t mind, he knows how to keep Frank mellow. 
“Of course, honey,” you take his can, a swish of dregs still in the bottom, then take Billy’s glass. As you weave around the table, you stumble over your own toes.  
“Eh, slow down,” Frank warns, “don’t need ya makin’ a mess.” 
“Yes, sir,” you reply. It’s a call-and-answer. You can’t leave him unheard. 
You go into the kitchen and dump what’s left in the can. You rinse it and put it in the recycling bin. You take a new one from the fridge and slide it into his coozy. You mix Billy a new drink from the bottle he brought with him. 
You return and serve Frank first. Billy smiles as he accepts his glass. “Smells delicious,” he comments. 
“Thank you, Billy,” you step back and blink, your lashes seeming to catch each other. “It’s a pretty big turkey so there’s a lot to go around.” 
“Good, I’m starving,” he slaps his flat stomach then sips from his glass, “that’s good. You make the best drinks.” 
“Just coke and whiskey,” Frank grumbles. 
“Sure, but it’s a good balance,” Billy raises his glass. 
“Thank you, sir. Uh, that eggnog you brought is pretty good. I’m on my third glass. I know Frank doesn’t like it very much,” you say. 
“Eggnog?” Frank echoes. 
Billy chuckles, “oh yeah? You like it?” 
“Sure. I haven’t had any since I was a kid.” 
He laughs again, “did you read the label?” 
Frank stiffens and slurps from the can. You look at him and shake your head. “Kinda.” 
“It’s Baileys, sweetheart. 60 proof. You been drinking it straight?” 
“You brought her alcohol?” Frank sits ups. 
“I brought it for everyone. I was being a good house guest, Castle.” 
“You been drinking?” Frank turns his sneer on you, knowing Billy will meet him with the same. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know--” 
“You telling me you didn’t taste the rum?” He snarls. 
You blink and glance at Billy nervously. He shrugs and sips his whiskey. 
“Don’t look at him, why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not going to help you.” Frank barks. 
You flinch and face him. You clasp your hands together. “I don’t drink sir, I wouldn’t know--” 
“You talking back to me?” He sits forward and reaches to put his beer down. 
“No, sir. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before--” 
“Get over here,” he points in front of him. “And shut your smart mouth.” 
Your lip trembles as you nod and put your eyes down. Usually, he’s until Billy isn’t there, or at least, you are somewhere private. You know it’s bad because he isn’t. 
You shrink down, curling your shoulders and approach him. You’re all too aware of the other man in the room. Just as conscious of his full attention. As you near Frank, he grabs your wrist and wrenches you forward. You whine as you stagger. 
“Don’t be goddamn stubborn,” he growls. 
You snivel and apologise again. 
“Get yourself over my knee. And pull that skirt up while you’re at it.” He commands. 
You obey. You lay across his lap and reach back to lift your skirt. He just as quickly grabs your panties and swipes them down your ass. You whimper again, your thighs quivering as you’re exposed to the room. To Billy. 
Frank spreads his calloused hand across your ass. You brace yourself as he lifts his arm, leaving your skin cold. The first strike is scalding. You cry out as your flesh stings. You keep your head down as he does it again. Spanking you so hard that you feel it in your spine. 
“You know better than that,” he reprimands as he lays each slap. 
When he stops, he keeps his hand on your fiery skin. You don’t dare move. You stay draped over his lap as the noise of the football game continues on around you. 
“Go on,” he gives a lighter tap. “Get dinner on the table. Game’s getting good.” 
You lift yourself, pulling up your panties as you keep your eyes on the floor. You’re too humiliated to look at Billy. As you drop your skirt. You sense him shift in his seat and it makes you wince. You flee to the kitchen. 
The turkey is done. You take it out and blink away tears as you carve it. You sort out light and dark meat on a platter and carry it to the table. You arrange all the fixings in serving dishes; sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, carrots, beans, turnip, cranberry sauce, gravy, stuffing, and buns. 
You hesitate as you cautiously peek into the living room. 
“Um, sir, dinner--” 
“Go on, wait for us,” Frank waves you away, his eyes fixated on the television. “Wanna see this kick.” 
“Yes, sir,” you whisper. 
You go to the table and sit. You’re patient as you wait for them. Billy comes first, appearing through the kitchen as he brings in his glass with a helping of the eggnog. You look away shamefully. 
“You’re right, sweetheart. It’s pretty good,” he sets the glass down as he sits. 
“Yes, sir, very,” you agree. “I’m sorry I drank so much.” 
“Well, I brought it for that very purpose,” he affirms. 
Frank finally comes in. He claims his chair at the head of the table. You get up and step up next to his shoulder. 
“Can I fix you a plate, sir?” You ask. 
“You know what I like.” 
You take his plate; dark meat, potatoes, carrots, gravy, a bun, and some stuffing. You butter his bun then sit down. He doesn’t move. 
“Well, we got company,” he sneers. 
“I’m sorry, sir. Billy--” 
You go to get up and Billy waves you off. “I’m a big boy, I can serve myself.” 
“Big boy?” Frank echoes under his breath. 
Billy snickers and shakes his head, “jeez, Frank, it’s Christmas. Have a bit of holiday cheer.” 
“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not a child,” Frank snaps. 
“Fuck if you don’t act like one,” Billy retorts. 
“Big boy. Think you’re a fucking big boy,” Frank repeats. “I’ll show you a man.” 
The table lurches as Frank stands. You stare at him as he reaches for you. He grabs your upper arm, his fingertips dipping into the bruises already there. He rips you up to your feet and moves you around the table in front of him. He kicks the chair behind him away as he hits it. 
“You don’t need to take it out on her, Frank. What’s the problem--” 
“I’m showing you what a big man is,” Frank grabs the back of your neck and bends you forcefully. Your stomach crushes his place and you feel the moisture sopping through the layers of your apron and dress. “You come in here, givin’ her that poison--” 
“It’s the holiday. Just a treat--” 
“You both shut your fucking mouth,” Frank tears your skirt up above your ass. “I see the way you look at her. I hear the way she fawns over you. ‘Oh, Billy, thank you’,” he mimics you meanly. “Well, I’ll show you what you’re never going to have.” 
You stare at the wall as Frank tugs your panties down again. He kicks your feet apart and pinches your ass. You squeak as he splays his hand against your flesh and pokes around your cunt. You close your eyes as he brushes your entrance with his rough fingertips. 
He pushes two fingers inside of you and you whine. He wiggles them then slides them out. You hear the clank of cutlery. You blow out between your lips as Frank’s weight shifts around behind you and he pushes his tip between your cheeks. 
He guides himself down to your cunt and bucks his hips mercilessly. He splits you with a single thrust. You gnash your teeth as he jerks again, bottoming out with a grunt. You grip the edge of the table and hold your breath. 
A knife scratches on porcelain. You hear chewing. You lift your head as Frank thrusts again. You stare at Billy as he scoops up gravy, potato, and turkey in a single bite. He sucks the fork clean and smiles. He's entirely unbothered by the gruff display. 
“The fuck are you doing?” Frank puffs but does not relent. The table jolts with his aggression and Billy picks up his glass to keep the liquid from sloshing. 
“Well, I don’t want my food to get cold,” he says. 
Frank growls and frames your hips. He snaps his pelvis against you and grunts. “Goddamn, Bill, you always were a goddamn freak.” 
Billy laughs and takes a gulp of the eggnog. He swallows and lets out a sigh, “well, you know, I won’t mind if there’s leftovers. I'll be happy to eat them up.” He winks and Frank pumps into harder. 
“Fucking bastard,” he snarls and his flesh slaps you loudly. “Peach, you keep looking at him but you remember who you belong too. “He bends over you and loops his arm around to grab your chin. He lifts you, arching your back as he forces your head up. He ruts into you relentlessly. “Remember, it ain’t fucking him.” 
179 notes · View notes
jasongracesenthusiast · 5 months ago
Text
SHORT N’ SWEET !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PARINGS, percy jackson, leo valdez, and jason grace x fem!reader
WARNING(S), none !
SONGS, juno, please please please, bed chem, all by sabrina carpenter!
AUTHOR’S NOTE, i rushed jason’s part cause i have another idea that i need to work on like rn so if his is ooc . . . it’s all good cause i have something better for him
PERCY:
౨ৎ out of all of them, yours and percy’s relationship was probably the most obvious before announced like he is at EVERY concert of yours. everybody was like “either he’s the most obsessed fan of yours or he’s your boyfriend.”
౨ৎ THE biggest sweetheart. he’s at every concert, buys every album, all that. he ADORES you.
౨ৎ (in ‘taste,’ instead of jenna it was annabeth WHAT WHO SAID THAT…)
you make me wanna make you fall in love
oh, late at night, i’m thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
LEO:
౨ৎ somehow, some way, he manages to come head to head with percy in the adoration level
౨ৎ tells EVERYBODY he has a hot as fuck popstar girlfriend — in those exact words — and is absolutely shameless about it
౨ৎ (kinda wonders how he managed to get you….it’s okay though cause you always make him feel better and he loves you for it)
heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another
i beg you, don’t embarrass me, motherfucker
JASON:
౨ৎ internally screaming his ass off every time he sees you on stage like it’s so bad
౨ৎ the barry to your sabrina
౨ৎ at concerts and stuff, you’d point him out in the crowd and he LIVES for it everytime
i know i sound a bit redundant
but i get we’d have really good bed chem
291 notes · View notes
7ndipity · 1 year ago
Text
Scary Good
Hobi x Plus Size Reader
Summary: A spooky movie and needy Hobi? You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Halloween.
Warnings: VERY suggestive, grinding, handsy Hobi, swearing, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to @ygwa for requesting this! I hope you like it!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
“Okay, I’ve got popcorn and candy, do we need anything else?” You asked as you joined Hoseok in the living room.
“I need something.” Hobi said from his spot on the sofa, puckering his lips at you.
Biting back a grin, you complied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before catching his chin in your hand. “You know that’s like the fifth time you’ve done that tonight?” You asked.
“Yeah, so? I can’t help that you make me want kisses.” He said with a cheeky grin.
“Oh, so this is my fault?” You said looking at him questioningly.
“Definitely.” He nodded seriously, trying to lean in for another kiss, but at the last second, you pulled away teasingly, earning a pout from him.
“Meanie.” He said, narrowing his eyes at you, making you laugh again.
Even since he’d arrived at your place earlier that evening, Hobi’d been extra needy, following you around everywhere as you tried to set things up for your movie night. You were used to his normally affectionate nature, but tonight it was like he had shifted into overdrive, clinging to your back as you’d prepared the snacks and begging for kisses every five minutes.
Finally, you settled onto the couch with him, draping a blanket over the two of you as Hobi tugged at you until you were tucked into his side with your legs over his lap.
“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, hooking his arms around your waist contentedly.
“We could watch a scary movie?” You suggested. “It is Halloween, after all.”
“Ehh.” His face immediately scrunched up in distaste.
“I’ll take that as a no?” You said, giggling at his expression.
“I just don’t understand why people like them so much? Why would you purposefully scare yourself?” He said as you scrolled through the various titles.
“Some people like the adrenaline rush, like with roller coasters, though personally I think it’s mostly an excuse to ‘comfort’ each other when you get scared.” You said, earning a snort from him as you wiggled your brows at him suggestively.
“Oh! Well then, by all means, let’s please watch one of those!” He said, making you laugh as he tightened his grip on you.
“Are you sure?” You asked, amused by his sudden enthusiasm.
“Mhm, just don’t pick anything super scary.” He said.
You quickly picked a movie and settled back against him, snuggling down into the blanket.
“Are you scared yet?” He asked.
“Not yet.” You grinned.
“How ‘bout now?”
“Would you shush!” You scolded him, giggling.
To your surprise, the movie actually turned out to be somewhat interesting, you and Hobi finding yourselves immersed in the plot and watching in comfortable silence for several minutes.
Inevitably though, a distraction presented itself in the form of Hobi’s hands finding their way from your waist down to your thighs, tracing seemingly absentminded patterns over the expanse of skin, his fingers stopping just shy of the bottom edge of your pajama shorts, making you squirm slightly as you grew increasingly frustrated, heat beginning to spread in your lower belly.
”Hobi?” You breathed.
“Hmm?” He hummed.
“I think I’m scared now.” You said.
“Oh thank God!” He exclaimed, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise as he immediately dove on top of you, letting out a relieved groan as he was finally able to connect his lips with yours. “I didn’t know how much more of that movie I could take.” He mumbled.
The kiss started out slow and sensual but quickly intensified, his tongue swiping into your mouth as his hands slipped under your shirt, kneading the soft flesh of your sides as they crept higher, making you shiver as you arched into his touch.
“Hobi.” You whined as his mouth left yours and trailed down your neck.
“Hmm? What is it, Pretty Baby?” He said softly, nipping the underside of your jaw, making you shudder again.
You loved the way Hobi loved you, always so praising and reverent, treating your body as if it were a prized piece of art.
Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you pushed him so he was sitting back against the back of the couch, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him, earning a grunt of satisfaction from him as you looped your arms around his neck, reconnecting your lips with his.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He groaned between kisses, letting out a choked moan as you rolled your hips against his experimentally.
“Hmm? What was that?” You asked teasingly, repeating the action and causing his hands to shoot up and grip your hips tightly, fingers dimpling the soft skin as he tried to urge your movements on.
“Don’t tease, please?” He whined.
“I’m not teasing, I’m just trying to make you feel good.” You said sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips as you continued your agonizingly slow pace. “Don’t you feel good?”
He nodded, closing his eyes as he tried desperately to concentrate.
“Bed, please.” He managed, breathing unsteadily.
“You wanna go to bed already?” You cooed, enjoying the sudden role reversal between you, admiring his already fucked out expression. “But we’ll miss the end of the movie.”
“Fuck the movie” He groaned, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you. “I’ll make you scream better than it ever could.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @ldysmfrst
339 notes · View notes
pahtoosh · 2 years ago
Text
apologies and kisses
Tumblr media
[image ID: pictures on a light purple background. there are five different baby blankets, a few different bottles of laundry detergent, and an image of chris evans as steve rogers looking smug and another of sebastian stan looking comedically distraught/.end ID]
masterlist
summer celebration masterlist
18+
wc: ~2200 words
warnings: having to do chores. baby is kind of dramatic in this(but justified!)
a/n: the movies moodboards are back. this is the first post of my summer celebration!!! also my first "and kisses" piece!!! "and kisses" just means there are lots of kisses and this is important because i love kisses :)
pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)
summary: Steve leaves you and Bucky alone for a day and your Baba manages to make a mistake worthy of an apology and lots of kisses
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚
“Okay, I’m leaving for my meeting now!” Steve called out. “Just making this announcement in case one of my loves wants to show me some love before I go!” 
Your dada would never leave without a proper goodbye unless it was an emergency, but he likes teasing you. You took the bait every time. 
“Dada! Dada wait!” You rushed to the door and “caught” Steve just as he was about to open the door. 
“Oh goodness! You just barely made it, pumpkin. I was practically out the door!” He set down his briefcase and gave you a hug and kiss. He looked over your shoulder for any sign of Bucky. “Hm. Only one of my loves came to say goodbye. I guess that’s it then. Bye sweetheart, I’ll see you later tonight.”
“No! No! Baba! Baba, come say bye bye to Dada, you have to!”
Bucky shook his head at your and Steve’s antics. He walked leisurely down the hallway before kissing Steve goodbye. 
“You sure took your time,” Dada teased. 
“I can’t be spoiling you now. Sometimes ya gotta play a lil’ hard to get.” Bucky winked. 
Steve laughed and muttered idiot before returning the kiss. “You two gonna be okay without me?”
“Yes, Steve. I’ve got the schedule and the chore chart and the MyPlate chart that you printed out for me. Twice. Relax, I’ve got this. They’re my baby too, you know.”
Your dada sighed. “I know, and I trust you but it’s been a while since we’ve been separated.”
Bucky rubbed his shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine, it’s only for a few hours-”
“Six hours.”
“And those six hours will be fun and productive thanks to the schedule you lovingly created for us. We’ll be okay, you can just focus on your meeting. Unless that’s why you’re acting like a mother hen right now.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Are you worrying about us so you don’t have to think about your meeting?”
Steve stood a little straighter and fixed his tie. “Steve Rogers doesn’t run away from his problems. But if he did, that’d be a pretty darn good reason.”
Bucky laughed. “Okay, Captain. Whatever you say, now go kick some ass.”
“Language.” He kissed you one more time. “Bye, sweetheart.” He kissed Bucky. “Be good.”
“Why am I being told to ‘be good’?”
“Because our sweet little angel is always good. You’re the trouble around here.” Steve smiled at you and walked out the door, closing it behind him before your baba could respond. 
“Unbelievable. Did you hear that, lovie? Dada’s talking as if he wasn’t the biggest troublemaker his whole life.” He stopped looking at the door to face you. “How ‘bout those chores? Should we get started on them?”
“Don’t wannaaaa,” you whined. 
“I know, me neither but we gotta show Dada how responsible I can be. Will you help me with that, baby?”
“Mmm. Okay. But then I don’t have to eat Dada’s veggie sprouts for dinner.”
Your baba threw his head back in laughter. “Trust me, angel. Baba wouldn’t make you eat that mess even if you were the naughtiest baby in the world.”
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
Two hours later, you and Bucky had finished watering the plants, cleaning your playroom, and doing the dishes. The only two chores left on Steve’s list were to dust all the shelves and lamps in the house and do the laundry. Bucky hated dusting, so he was saving that task for last. 
He stood a little straighter and used his sergeant voice to grab your attention. “Agent baby, I have a very important task for you.”
You copied his posture. “I’m listenin’, sargan’ baba!”
“I need you to round up all the blankies in the playroom and living room and escort them to the laundry room. And bring any loose socks you see on your way. Those tricky little guys have escaped us for the last time.”
“Yes, sargan’ baba!” You did as he said, gathering the lightweight blankets that collected on the back of the couch and in one of your playroom’s baskets. You carefully walked to the laundry room with your huge pile of blankets nearly blocking your whole face. 
“I gots dem, Baba!”
“That’s very impressive, baby! And in record time too,” Bucky praised. He took the blankets from your hands and placed them into the machine. “One, two, three, four, five, si- wait, we’re missing one. Where’s your blankie, lovie?”
You looked up innocently. “Bankie’s not dirty.”
“Now I know that’s not true. I can’t remember the last time we washed blankie.”
“But, but what if bankie don’ like the water?” You pouted and formed a crease between your brows. 
“Blankie will be fine, sweetheart. Blankets are meant to be washed! And don’t you want your blankie to be fresh and clean? Think about how you feel after a nice bath. Good, right?”
You looked down and played with the hem of your shirt. “Yah, feels good.”
“Okay, then can you get blankie for me? Or do you want sergeant baba to come with you?”
“No, I do it!” You straightened up and rushed to get your blankie, wanting to show Baba your independence. 
You carefully handed blankie to Bucky. 
“Thank you, doll. Now blankie’s gonna take a little trip with these other blankies and when they’re done they’re gonna be all clean! While I do this can you look for the feather duster in the closet? I’ll be back out in a minute.”
“Okay, Baba!”
Now alone with the washing machine, Bucky turned the knob to the correct settings and reached for the detergent. There were three different bottles on the shelf. Wait, which brand is used for blankets? How much are you supposed to use? And who needs three different kinds of laundry detergent?
Steve had been taking care of the laundry lately in exchange for Bucky cleaning the kitchen. Steve was also more particular about how fabrics felt after washing, explaining the need for different detergents. Bucky decided to put a little bit of each detergent in the machine and hope for the best. He pressed the start button and left to find you and the feather duster. 
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
Not too long later, every bookshelf and lampshade in the house was dust-free, Bucky put the blankets in the dryer, and you both ate lunch. By the time the dishes were cleaned, the dryer played a happy tune signaling that the blankets were dry. 
“Baba! Is blankie time!”
He gasped. “Blankie time? We gotta move fast! Hold on baby, Baba’s gonna get you there!” He lifted you off his lap and carried you to the laundry room, moving up and down while making airplane noises. 
“Wooosh! Wooosh! Wow, baby, look at how fast you’re going!”
You squealed and held onto Bucky’s Henley for dear life. “I’m zoomin! I go so high so fast!”
“Aaaand we’ve made it to blankieland!” He put on a voice and pretended to talk into a radio. “Passengers, we have just landed in blankieland. Please stay still while we take out the blankies and give your Babas a kiss for the ride.”
You giggled and kissed Bucky on the cheek before wiggling out of his arms. “Mwah! Down please!”
He set you down and opened the dryer, putting all the blankets into a clean basket so he could take out the dryer lint while you got your blankie. He closed the door and then turned to you. 
“So, how’s blankie? All clean and fresh?”
“B-Baba?” Your lip was trembling and your eyes were filling up with tears. 
“Oh, baby what’s wrong?” He crouched down to your level.
“My blankie! You ruined blankie!” You dropped blankie and ran to your room crying. 
Confused, Bucky picked up your blanket from the floor and a pant of guilt hit him. Blotches of the fabric were discolored. It made your blanket look like someone spilled Steve’s green juice on it. He inspected the other blankets and for some reason, only yours was affected. 
Baba felt so bad for ruining something that meant so much to you. He wanted to go comfort you, but sometimes you needed time alone after a conflict. 
While giving you some space, Bucky tried to fix his mistake. He thought about all the ways he could get the stains out. He tried a stain-removing pen, but there was no change. He got a small part wet and blotted it with a towel. Again, nothing happened. Surely putting it into the machine again wouldn’t fix things, that's how he got into this mess. And he was hesitant to try vinegar, the idea of your blanket being stained and smelly was too much. With no other solutions left to try, Bucky went to go check on you. 
Luckily, you left your door wide open. You were so distracted that you just ran straight toward crying into your pillow and stuffies. Bucky could hear your cries all around the house. He was concerned about how long you’d been crying for. How much time did he spend in that laundry room?
“Baby? Baby, I’m so sorry. Baba’s so sorry he ruined your blankie.” Bucky carefully sat down on your bed and rubbed your back in a soothing gesture. “I’ll buy you a new blankie, yeah? I’ll buy you as many as you want, as big as you want, as colorful as you want.”
He couldn’t be too sure, but he might’ve heard you sob the word “no” three times. 
“Angel, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to have a clean blankie. When Dada gets back I’ll have him teach me how to clean blankie the correct way, okay? Maybe he can fix this.” Bucky actually wasn’t sure this was something that could be fixed, but he’d say anything to make you happy. “It was an honest mistake, angel. Can you forgive me?”
“I never forgive you, Baba! Never ever ever ever!” You smashed your face into a pillow and kept sobbing. 
Bucky sighed and held his head in his hands. He was hoping for an ounce of Steve’s patience right now. He thought about taking you over to the tower himself. You could see Steve sooner. Maybe some of the other Avengers would still be there and they could help cheer you up. Or maybe he could bribe you with treats, he did just go grocery shopping yesterday...
Luckily, your Dada was just about to park the car. He opened the door expecting to see either you running up to him or you and Bucky sleeping on the couch, exhausted from all the chores. He was not expecting to hear you crying. Steve quickly took off his shoes and found the two of you. 
“What’s going on?” It was an odd scene, you lying face down in the middle of the bed, sobbing while Bucky was perched on the edge about to pull his hair out. 
You turned over and reached out to Dada, still whimpering. He picked you up and reached for a tissue to clean your face. “What’s got my little sweetheart so worked up, hmm?”
“B-Baba wuined bankie.” You hid your face in Steve’s neck, too tired to do anything else. 
Dada looked over to Bucky with a raised brow. 
“I was doing the laundry and I messed up blankie.”
“Show me.”
Bucky left to get blankie while Steve sat on your bed with you in his lap. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
You whined and nuzzled deeper into Steve’s shoulder. 
He sighed and rubbed your back, beginning to talk anyway. “I know how much blankie means to you, baby. I’m sorry Baba ruined it. Did Baba say sorry to you?”
You sniffled. “Ya.”
“And did you forgive him?”
You didn’t answer. 
“Babyyy,” he said in a warning tone. Steve did not appreciate unanswered questions. 
“No. I say I never forgive him.”
He sucked in a breath. “That’s harsh, now why would you say that?”
“Because blankie!”
“I know, I know. But don’t you think Baba is a little more important than blankie? I bet Baba’s real sorry even without your crying.”
Bucky came into your room with blankie. Steve reached for it and inspected the damage. 
“You poured the detergent straight onto it instead of using the slot, didn’t you?”
“How did you know that?”
Steve grimaced. “I made that mistake too. With my own blanket, thankfully. This kind of fabric just soaks it up. And why are the splotches different colors? Which detergent did you use?”
Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “All of them?” Steve’s eyes widened. “I didn’t use a lot! Just a little of each. Why do we need three different kinds anyway?”
Steve laughed. “It’s okay, Buck. I’ll show you the ropes next time.” He turned to you. “See, baby? It was an accident. Baba was trying so hard to clean blankie that he used three whole different soaps!”
You giggled softly and snuck a peek at your daddies. Steve looked hopeful while Bucky still looked sad and a little embarrassed. You didn’t like seeing Baba so down. You reached out to him. 
He looked surprised. “You want me to hold you?” When you nodded, he reached out to pick you up. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Again, I’m so sorry baby. Baba didn’t know.”
You held his face with both hands. “Is okay Baba. Sorry for being a meanie.”
He laughed. “You’re no meanie, angel.” He kissed you and then cuddled you, mouthing thank you to Steve over your shoulder. 
The next day, your daddies took you on a trip to buy a new blankie and Steve spent an hour showing Bucky how to do the laundry. He even took notes and laminated them to keep in the laundry room.
494 notes · View notes
quinloki · 1 year ago
Text
Eustass Kid - Honesty
Reader style - she/her AFAB Time slot - After Hours Client Name - @swampstew CW: Shibari, fingering, pet names
Tumblr media
“Keep talkin’ sweetheart.” Kid commands, turning your arm behind your back and wrapping rope around it.
“Nothing hurts.” You reply, voice a little tense.
“Don’t just tell me if it hurts, tell me how it feels.” He insists, chest pressing against your back as warm breath tickles the back of your neck. “What’s stretching? Flex your fingers and toes.” One large hand wraps around you, opening wide against your belly. “Tell me you’re wet before I find out on my own.”
“Haa, shit, I wasn’t until you said it like that,” you huff, squirming against the ropes. “Fuh-fingers and toes are good, and… and there’s definitely a stre-stretch in my shoulders - Kid, Kid!” You gasp as his hand slowly travel further down your stomach.
“Keep talkin’.”
“Ah-aaahhhmmmm-bout what?” You whimper, squirming against knots you couldn’t hope to undo on your own.
Kid’s teeth caress the turn of your ear. “How it feels. Be honest, lil’ mouse. What’s the rope against your skin like?”
The question seems to bring the sensation to the forefront of your mind. “Sah - soft, soft for the most pah-part, but also there’s pruh-prick-prickly bits.” You stammer, squirming and gasping. Every movement is a reminder of how well you are bound, how exposed you are, and how much more exposed you’re becoming.
“Please, please, touch me,” you gasp, trying to bring your aching pussy closer to his fingers.
“I’m already touc-.”
“My clit, Kid, please make me cum!” You cry.
“Ooooh? You’re usually so shy,” he purrs, turning you around easily and letting you fall onto the pillows beneath you. The frog-tie shibari rope work as your arms bound snug against your back, the heels of your feet tucked against your thighs, ropes triple and quadrupled to keep them from biting into your skin, while still holding you easily in place.
The new position puts you face to face with him, and that sure, cocky, leering grin isn’t cutting you any slack. “You like the way I make you cum?”
You nod. “Yes.” Blood rushes through you, need winning out over embarrassment.
“You don’t see other escorts.” He muses, pressing his index finger against your clit. The pressure sends a shiver through you, but he doesn’t move it. “Just me.”
“Is, is that bad?” Your eyes aren’t on his now, fixated on the single, deep dark crimson painted finger pressed against you.
“Nope.” He assures you, finger finally starting to make lazy circles against the throbbing bundle of nerve. “You don’t just like the way I make you cum though, do you? Be honest, and I’ll reward you, Mouse.” You can feel another finger slipping along your slit.
You nod again, gasping as the snaps of pleasure as he rubs you the right way. “I… I lie-like you! I like you, e-even if I shuh-shouldn’t! Oh fuck!” You throw your head back as two thick fingers push into your pussy, and Kid’s thumb starts rolling against your clit, applying more pressure than his finger had been.
“Why shouldn’t you?” He questions, voice even, grin crooked.
“Y-you’re… I mean, ri-right there, gods,” Pleasure addles your thoughts, skilled fingers bringing you close quickly.
“I’m what, Mouse?”
A strained whimper beats against your teeth, and tears garble your vision. Fear twists your guts, worry that this might be your last session with him, your last words. As though you’ve broken some unspoken rule and you can’t take it back.
“Perfect. You’re perfect,” you gasp, struggling to speak against the growing orgasm. “Who the ha-hell am I, tah - ta’ be me an’, an’ want you?”
You don’t notice the look on Kid’s face, not that you can make out much with your eyes wet. His fingers and thumb move faster, and you can feel him leaning over you.
“Cum, little mouse, cum like the good girl you are.” He demands, and despite your blurred vision you swear you can see those amber eyes crystal clear. The only thing clearer are his words, and they travel straight to your loins like lightning.
Sucking in a breath as the orgasm crests, Kid’s lips crash into yours suddenly. His name, your moans, are all devoured by hungry lips, and a tongue intent on stealing sense and sound from you. Dizzy from pleasure and a lack of air, your flushed face and heavy breaths are a mix of embarrassment and afterglow.
Once your eyes focus on him, you see that devious grin slip along his lips. “We’re gonna hafta have an honest talk, you and I.” He says, softness coming into his eyes and smile. “But if yer gonna be my Mouse? You can’t talk down on yourself like that again.”
One Piece Host Club AU drabble event runs through December 2023
91 notes · View notes
takenbypeter · 2 years ago
Note
Could I request prompt number 15 with Peter Maximoff? He meets the reader when he’s about to get in trouble for something he almost certainly did, and the reader just rocks up unasked and out of nowhere to provide him with a plausible alibi. The reader has somewhere else to be, so they have to rush off, but it’s pretty obvious to everyone in the vicinity that they’ve made quite the impression on one Peter Maximoff.
Convenience Store Crush
Tumblr media
Peter Maximoff x reader
Words: 1102
Number 15: “they said my crush on you is obvious.”
Authors note: I totally forgot bout the running off part and the end of your ask so I do apologize for that but I hope u still like it
Tumblr media
“How are you?” Asked a frequent buyer. She was an older lady who would come into the small corner store where you worked every week.
It was always the same faces in this small town. The same faces asking the same tired questions and you were honestly over it.
“Eh, same old, same old,” you replied scanning her few items.
“Sometimes that’s not so bad,” she said and as you were about to politely counter the doorbell went off signaling new customers entering.
You watched as a small group of people, seemingly around your age walked in followed by a gray haired guy. The guy looked in your direction for a mere moment before nonchalantly following his friends. He was another of your regulars…well sorta. He’s been coming in every week just to roam around but as always you let it go because you truly did not care.
They looked like a strange and colorful bunch together, it was obvious they were mutants. But you didn’t mind, personally you thought the whole idea of having powers was unique, sometimes you even wished you had some but alas you didn’t. Pushing that thought out of your mind you went back to your business cashing out your current customer.
“Have a good day,” you said as you waved with a cheesy smile, although you didn’t necessarily enjoy this job you considered all your smiles to be genuine. You waited bored as this was typically one of the dead hours on your shift.
As you laid there hunched over the counter you heard a commotion close by.
Growing curious you left your post and head to the noise and as you neared you began to pick up your manager's voice.
“I don’t know how you’re doing it but I know you’re doing it,” said your manager.
“I’m sorry, is there a problem here?” Asked a woman's voice. You peeked out from behind the next aisle as you began to match voices to faces.
“You bet there’s a problem! Every time this young man comes in, something goes missing! At least ten snacks go missing and a sign always goes missing.”
The red haired girl turned to the gray haired boy, while he automatically put his hand up in defense, “I have never stolen anything from here in my life, I swear.”
“Oh I don’t believe that for a second you’re out! You’re all out!”
“Actually, he’s telling the truth,” the group’s eyes fall to you as you come out from your hiding spot, “when he came in last week, he bought something. I cashed him out.” Now was that the truth? Not necessarily. The fact is he’s actually only bought something twice from your store and was that last week? No, but you didn’t care.
Your manager turned to him still accusingly but you continued before she could start again, “are you going to throw out a whole group of paying customers just because you think one guy is stealing? You don’t even have evidence!”
Your manager's hand went down into a fist as she glared at the group and she walked up to you before stopping, “if I catch him stealing, you’re outta here with them,” she whispered before pushing past you.
With your nightmare manager gone you turn back to the small group of friends, “sorry about that, please continue shopping,” you said leaving them be and returning to your post.
It wasn’t that long before they came up to you to get rang up. You went through them one by one and honestly every one of them seemed genuine.
Then came the last one.
The gray haired one.
He only had three items in his hand, “is this all for today?” You asked.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Picking them up you began scanning them. He took the opportunity to talk to you, “and thanks for what you did…earlier.”
“It’s no problem,” you respond, without taking your eyes off the scanner and his items.
“Do you believe me?” He asks.
“Nope. I know you did it,” you said, tone stating it in a matter of fact manner. “And I know you all are a part of the X-men. You? You’re the speedy one.”
“Quicksilver,” he corrected and you finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes which widened in the slightest.
“…But other’s know me as Peter Maximoff.”
“Am I "others "?"
Peter’s lips tug a little beginning to shape into a small smug little smile, “you can be, yes.”
“Well Peter Maximoff, is that why you come every week? To loot?”
Peter’s eyes looked up and to the side while his lips stuck out in thought, “mostly, I also come to see you,” he looked confident for just one second before he immediately made a face, “was that as creepy as it sounded because hearing it out loud sounded very creepy. If it did I most definitely am sorry.”
A smile now pulled on your lips, “…yes it was definitely creepy…but also weirdly sweet.”
“Ahem,” you heard a cough from behind him, no doubt coming from his group of friends that have been watching the whole thing. You watched as his friend, who wore red-tinted glasses nodded with his head in your direction. While you two stared at the group you failed to notice Peter’s hand behind the counter that was so obviously waving them off and at that signal you watched the red haired girl pull the guy with glasses’ arm before the rest followed after. You watched as they all left the store leaving behind just you and Peter.
“Right, so my friends…they say my crush on you is obvious, so I figured I’d come in here and just ask you out.”
“Oh…so is that your way of asking me?”
His eyes squinted as he let out a drawn out, “yeeesss?”
“Well if that’s your way of asking me out then no I will not go out with you.”
Peter’s lips pressed together as he put cash on the table and put his items in his hand.
“But, my shift is done at seven. if you come back then with a real way of asking, then maybe I’ll go out with you.”
Peter’s lips spread into an honest smile.
“But take it easy, some people need their jobs.”
“Right, sorry bout that.”
“Oh not me, I’m planning on quitting anyways but some other people.”
He let out a light chuckle, “right! Okay, see you at seven,” he said, almost dropping one of his items before he shoved the door to leave.
Suddenly this job just made your life a little bit more interesting.
-
Dialogue Prompt 2
202 notes · View notes
driftward · 5 months ago
Text
Title: FFXIV Write 2024 - Free Day 2 - 15. Contest Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: And for the winner, a shared reward Notes: WoL|Sette
Zoissette and Klynt circled each other slowly. Zoissette with her shield up, twirling her sword in her other hand. Klynt keeping her spear in ready position.
"Begin!" called out Thancred, and the two rushed each other in a blur, coming to clash in the middle of the ring.
Y'shtola leaned forward with excitement, her eyes twinkling, as she watched a veritable spray of aether in their wake, their energies washing against one another. It was rare that she was able to just sit back and watch Zoissette at work, especially under circumstances that did not portend terrible consequences for the star.
And what a treat it was, to watch her lady knight. To watch how the star-like sparkle of her aether lit up and brightened, bright shining constellations meeting the ripples of crashing waves in Klynt's aether, even as they built to a tsunami. She sharpened her effort and expanded her sight, so she could also enjoy fully the power of their forms. Muscles flexing, speed on full display, Zoissette flexing under blows, eyes carefully looking for openings. Rapidly bringing her shield to bear against Klynt's twisting serpentine onslaught. Pivoting, parrying, and then the explosion of movement as she made an opening, catching Klynt off guard, and fully exploited it.
Thancred circled the outside of the ring, watching both contestants carefully, before shouting for them to break. They immediately pulled back to their starting positions, breathing heavily, Klynt with her shark like grin, Zoissette with a less predatory but no less triumphant smile.
Next to her, Lyse cheered, throwing a fist in the air as she cupped a hand to her mouth. On the other side, Alphinaud held a hand to his mouth, and even covered his eyes, wincing. Y'shtola chuckled at him, but spared not much more attention to them or any of her other companions, returning her attention to the ring, waiting for the match to resume.
Her paramour would have the fullness of her attention today.
Thancred called for a start once more, and the two leapt into combat again. Y'shtola felt as well as heard Lyse sigh. "I miss the days when we would spar," she said. "I'm glad that I was able to at least witness this during my short visit here. Gods, I think they've both gotten even faster somehow."
Y'shtola just smiled, not turning her attention away from the ring. "Surely you are not allowing yourself to grow soft in your new role as a leader, are you, Lyse? What would Papalymo say to know you were letting yourself go so?"
She was teasing, and the swat against her shoulder let her know it was well received. "Oh, don't you even! I can still keep up with the best of them, you know. And he'd probably say something like 'thank goodness she finally learned to use her head before her fists' or... something like that."
The two laughed, and the fight continued. Aether flew as weapons whirled through the air. Bodies clashed, forward and back, a fight eternal, neither willing to let ground.
Y'shtola knew how these training bouts usually went. She thought to perhaps pen the script a little differently this day.
"A kiss for the winner," she called out, and heard Lyse let out a gasping giggle even as Alphinaud groaned.
"I cannot watch this," he muttered.
Y'shtola suspected that if she stole a peak at him, she would see him with his eyes covered, but a gap between his fingers to watch the show. But it was not him who had her eye.
In the ring, she saw the shift in Zoissette's posture.
Klynt noticed as well, and adjusted accordingly, backing away far enough to grin viciously at Zoissette and make a 'come hither' gesture.
Zoissette did not move. Crouched. Eyes seeming to look everywhere at once. Klynt began to settle into a low stance to receive her.
She was already there.
The fight was vicious from there, far more heated than before. Klynt crowed, exulting in the new challenge, but Zoissette went quiet. She was inside Klynt's guard, briefly. She was taking shots she normally wouldn't. She was taking hits she usually wouldn't to jockey for superior positioning, seeming to have weighed ahead of time what she was willing to endure and what she could not. It may have looked like she was losing.
But the ring had rules, and Zoissette was very good at games, and more importantly, very good at math. When Thancred finally called the match, both contestants were exhausted, tired, wavering on their feet.
And Zoissette was far ahead on points.
Klynt groaned good-naturedly as everyone cheered, and she met Zoissette in the middle of the ring for their handshake, then they both pulled each other into a hug, laughing, smiling.
"You're damned dirty at this, 'Sette." she groused cheerfully.
"Not my fault you always ignore the points," replied Zoissette. "You cannot just bully your way past every problem, Klynt."
"Can too," Klynt retorted. "Every problem 'cept one. Go get your kiss."
Zoissette laughed, and the two separated, Klynt heading towards G'raha for healing, Zoissette towards Y'shtola, who was standing on the edge of the ring, waiting for her.
She was a goddess.
Tall, sweat marring her face, water from her eyes, hair a sticky clump. Y'shtola held her arms out to her to receive her, and oh, the wonders of her form, of who she was, what she was. Wiry, strong Elezen muscles like cables giving an exaggeration to her movements. That tired but happy smile that graced her face, a genuine expression of real triumph. A kindness that never left her eyes.
She crouched for Y'shtola, and Y'shtola kissed her deeply, enjoying the closeness. The heat of a body recently pushed so hard. The smells, of sweat, of Zoissette's humanity, the faint oil for her armor and leathers, the tinge of expended aether, it was all a delightfully heady musk that filled Y'shtola's nose and she breathed it in deep. It was all a reminder of how alive they both were.
She broke the kiss, and held Zoissette's face in her hands. "I shall enjoy acting as your squire, if you've no more obligations for the day requiring your attentions and arms?" she said quietly.
"Let me give the crowd what they want, and I'll be along in just a few minutes," said Zoissette.
Y'shtola nodded, and took a step back as Zoissette stood up, allowing her some space. As she did so, a wave of people who had been waiting flowed in, cheerfully chattering at her, clapping her shoulders, congratulating her on the bout.
Lyse came up to Y'shtola's side, and nudged her in the ribs.
"Cheeky," she said, cheerfully.
Y'shtola just winked at her and shrugged.
It was just over a bell later when they were in Zoissette's room. The bout area had been cleaned up, last exchanges had, well wishes and cheerful taunts about next time exchanged, and now it was just the two of them.
Zoissette stood still, arms at her sides, relaxed, as Y'shtola worked around her. Of course, Zoissette had spellwork at her disposal that allowed her to summon and dismiss sets of her gear from void space at a moment's notice while in the field. What was suited to mining was not suited to the duty of a knight was not particularly well suited to scholarly work, and she could adjust to fit the situation quickly. However, it would still need to be put on in the first place, and when she did not think there would be a need for such immediate shifting, she liked to remove her gear for storage. It still needed taken care of, after all, and that could not be done easily while it was being worn. Enchantments would need to be given additional aether, materia shined and resoldered periodically, metal polished and leather oiled.
It was the kind of work she could not do alone. And while Y'shtola may not have been a true squire, she knew what needed to be done, and over the course of their time together had grown quite accustomed to it.
And she found that she rather enjoyed these moments of tending to her knight. Perhaps it was the intimacy of it, of being in close proximity to one another. Of deft fingers feeling the warmth of a body recently exercised as she undid clasps and unwound ties.
"Arm up," she said, and Zoissette lifted her arm, responding immediately. Maybe it was the delight in having the knight pliable and obedient to her words. Zoissette was powerful, that was not in question, and that power now answered to her word, to her commands. Zoissette trusted her wholly, and obeyed without hesitation, and that was its own delight.
Maybe it was seeing Zoissette uniquely vulnerable, as layers of armor were removed and set aside, revealing more and more of the woman beneath them. Literal armor being removed, but also a kind of emotional nakedness. Y'shtola got to see Zoissette how few would, her skin streaked with dirty and blood, her gambeson stained with sweat, her hair clumped in a thick matted cord.
She was rarely so beautiful.
At last, Zoissette was nude, armor neatly stacked to one side, underclothing in a basket ready for laundry. A task for later. Right now, it was the knight that needed tending to, and Y'shtola would tend to her. She stripped down herself, and soon, the two were in the shower, Zoissette dutifully standing there while Y'shtola washed her clean of the detritus of the match.
This was a blessing. Zoissette did not need much healing magicks after a friendly bout, and Y'shtola was able to apply them without having to feel the twinges and pangs that came with tending deep wounds and applying stitches. Zoissette was hurt- neither she nor Klynt played gently- but this work was that of rubbing knots out, conjurey seeing to small cuts and abrasions, the flat of a palm against a muscle as aether flowed and humors set to rights. Minor works. Pleasurable, under these circumstances. And Zoissette made such delightful little murring noises as Y'shtola worked on her, as fingers untangled knots in her hair, as hands played over curves, partly healing, partly something more.
Too often, more often than Y'shtola cared for, Zoissette would be in a state after a fight, tired and bedraggled, barely keeping herself on her feet while she was tended to. But a good fight, a clean fight, a solid practice match, a joyful bout, these were different. Fighting for the star was one thing. Fighting for the challenge of it was quite another, and she found Zoissette often invigorated after such contest. Her body well exercised, her blood made to soar and pump heatedly, her mind working at solving the puzzle of her opponent. It tended to put her in a good mood, and Y'shtola now tested that mood as the water was turned off, pressing her body against Zoissette's back, a hand reaching around and forward to play against her stomach - ah, such muscle! - and tease downwards.
Zoissette responded favorably, turning to face Y'shtola, a smile on her face, hands reaching to explore Y'shtola.
Y'shtola hooked a hand on Zoissette's shoulder and pulled her down towards her. "Come here," she said, "That I may find my purchase upon you."
Their bodies pressed together hotly, their tongues eager between their lips, their passion cleaving them as one. It was now time for an altogether different sort of challenge, a contest as to what pleasures their bodies would endure for as long as they wished them, as they left the bathroom and retired to their shared bed.
14 notes · View notes
gigglinggoblin · 6 months ago
Text
Pixilated
Tumblr media
(featuring art from SleepyGayCutie!) [Twitter / itch.io]
[Except from a Patreon short!]
“Eve.” Quaile smiled shyly. “That's a... pretty name.” A pretty name for a pretty little fairy. The widow felt relief rushing through her. Thank goodness it wasn't some kind of monster. She'd never met a fairy before, but she knew they could be good and kind as long as you treated them with respect and didn't give your real name. Eve was the first non-terrifying thing she'd encountered since she'd entered the Silicon Forest. “I, um... I’m awfully sorry to intrude into your beautiful garden, but I was wondering if I could pick something from the base of that...”
She trailed off. Eve kept flitting to and fro with excitement, her wings a fast-fluttering blur, and that golden fairy dust was scattering all around Eve like a glittering halo. It was really pretty, but also somewhat… distracting.
“Hm? From my what?” Eve batted thick, dark eyelashes. “From our garden, you mean?” She giggled, dancing from side to side, her hips swinging with a distinct mischief.
Quaile was trying to be polite. She knew eye contact was respectful, but she’d never been very good at it, and the rhythmic sway of those hips felt like an… easy anchor. She knew she shouldn’t. It made her seem strange, it made no sense, women weren’t even supposed to look at other…
“O-Our?” she blurted.
Eve’s form seemed to almost blur for a moment. A brief bout of static crackled in Quaile’s ear.
“Oh, hiiii~!” another voice chimed, and a second fairy, this one with brilliant red hair, flew out from behind her. Her fairy dust was more of a rose gold hue. Like Eve’s, though, it was strangely hard to focus on. “My name's GenESI! But you can call me Jenny!” She flitted up and planted another kiss on Quaile's cheek, then giggled, bouncing up and down in midair. “Wow, your cheeks are so red!”
“I know!” Eve lamented, making a show of fanning herself. The pair swirled around Quaile's head. Quaile was trying to keep moving forward towards the flowers, but she felt like she had to keep spinning to keep them both in view, and it was starting to make her dizzy. Her advance was stumbling and unsteady. “Mortals are suuuuch fun! Always so cute and bashful!” She smirked at Quaile, flying up to whisper in her ear, “But this one's especially precious.” Her body seemed to crackle. Suddenly, she was much, much closer. “And cute, too.”
Quaile felt her cheeks burning. For some reason, their praise made her feel all... bubbly inside, but she didn't know why. They were very pretty, obviously, with gorgeous sparkling hair and curvy little figures and those enchanting green eyes, but… but why would that matter to her?
She took another step towards the birdbath, finally giving up on keeping them both in sight. It was too hard to focus on them, anyways. Their forms were so... blurry at the edges. No, not blurry. Blocky? It was so strange, and she didn't have time for this. “I-I need,” she said slowly, “to pick a few of those suncup flowers. If... if that's quite alright with you two, Eve and Jenny.”
The fairies both halted their flight and pouted.
“Oh, she's so businesslike,” Jenny muttered.
“So formal,” Eve agreed. A frown crossed her exaggerated perfect features.
Quaile's heart sank. She licked her lips. “I'm sorry if I'm being—I'm sorry to be rude. I don’t mean to be, I just… I only wish to help my village. My—my husband, he was much better at talking to people, but—but I didn’t mean any harm.”
The two fairies exchanged looks, then smiled at her. They flew up to alight upon her, one on each shoulder, leaving winding trails of pink-and-gold fairy dust sparkling before her eyes.
“There's no offense, Ailah,” Jenny cooed in her ear.
“Poor, shy lass!” whispered Eve. “Your husband left you? And you such a pretty thing!”
“H-He's, um, passed, actually.” Quaile squirmed a little and forced herself to keep walking. “Two years ago, he—”
She only registered too late that her path had taken her straight through the cloud of blurry, blocky fairy dust the fairies had just created, and she sputtered and sneezed as the sparkling mist enveloped her. Her whole head buzzed and thrummed like static. She swayed.
“Oops!” Eve giggled. “Poor, clumsy girl! You've gone and gOtTTtttEeEeEeEn…” Her voice seemed to warp and bend, discordant notes and strange staticky crackles briefly overwhelming Quaile’s senses.
The glitching passed. And when it did, Quaile found that Eve’s voice sounded different. It sounded… clearer. Like Eve had been speaking into a tin can until this very moment. “... yourself all up and pixilated! You silly thing, not watching where you’re going!”
“W-Wha—”
“And you poor thing,” Jenny whispered, planting another little fluttering kiss on Quaile's cheek, and her voice sounded clearer, too. “You've been through sooo much! You're lucky you ran into us.”
They both fluttered back, beaming at her. Quaile kept walking forward, dizzied, dazed. She couldn't fully remember why she'd been walking in this direction. It must have been to keep looking at Eve and Jenny, mustn't it? They were so... so pretty, with their big, smug smiles and their beautiful shimmering eyes and the pretty glittery blurry staticky fog that surrounded them… surrounded her…
“Yes, yes, yes,” Eve sang, flying in slow, lazy golden corkscrew spirals. “We make everything so much simpler, don't we?”
“S... Simpler.” Quaile had meant it as a question, but everything felt so silly and blurry and foggy, it didn't sound like one, did it?
“That's right!” Jenny flew right up close until she held Quaile's full, helpless attention. “You want everything nice and simple with us, don't you? That’s what pixilation is all about, you know. Making things simpler!”
“I... the, the, um...” Quaile's voice was failing her. Jenny was perched on her nose and smiling, and Quaile found herself smiling, too, a big, happy, simple smile, because everything felt so happy and simple when these two adorable ladies smiled at her and batted their thick, pretty lashes. “The suncups...”
She wasn't even sure what she was saying. Some part of her was tugging, nagging, tense and panicky, but it felt so small, the very smallest part of her, and she was already so very small herself...
“Of course,” Eve cooed, and the tension in Quaile's mind seemed to immediately unravel. “Of course. We'll take care of everything.”
“Oh.” Quaile giggled. “That's, um... good?”
Jenny smirked. “Of course it is~"
* * *
Very few in the Glowpebble Path know how to safely enter the Silicon Forest. Most empyreal charms are cheap knockoffs, and even the real ones don't do that much more than the odd energy pulse to dissuade the horrors in that place. What you have to know is that the scariest things in the Forest aren't the crackling electrical trees or mutated half-technological beasts. It's the things that look like fairies. Look, I don't need to tell you fairies are dangerous, but that's not a fairy you're looking at. Stay away from rogue AIs if you value your life, mind or dignity.
* * *
Thanks so much for reading! If you wanna read the full story, check out my Patreon! It's got the full version of the fic, plus a ton of other exclusives (like content polls) and early access to public chapters. I really appreciate everyone who supports me whatever way they can--I love getting to return to these flashfics, and there may be a sequel to this story going up there. SGC's art just kind of made me fall in love with Quaile, the poor dear. Definitely writing more subby milfs in the future.
16 notes · View notes
imagayvenclaw · 7 months ago
Text
Prompt: When Person A looks EXTRA good, so Person B teases them by kissing them on the cheek, neck, jaw, and eventually lips.
After the afterparty of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Draco and I were curled up together on our couch, just slightly too drunk to make it to the bedroom.
We giggled and poked each other in the dark, and I smelt the wine on his breath as I’m sure he smelt the whiskey on mine.
“Tonight was fun,” I said, after a small bout of wrestling that had ended with me straddling him, pinning his hands above his head.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, panting.
Leaning down, I whispered in his ear. “And you look fucking beautiful tonight.”
“No need to flatter me, Potter.” I could practically hear him blushing.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling the stubble there, I whisper again. “It’s not flattery, darling.”
“You can’t even see me. It’s pitch black.”
I kiss him on the neck, breathing in his scent. “But I was looking at you all night.”
“Can’t argue with that.” He was breathless. Breathless. I love this man so fucking much.
Another kiss, this time on his chiselled jaw.
“Stop teasing.” The raw need in his voice had blood rushing down into my cock. Night after night of this, of him and it never got old.
“As you wish.” And finally, finally I kissed him on the lips, grabbing onto his tie as I did, pulling him into me. This night had barely just begun.
19 notes · View notes
crystallizedkingdoms · 9 days ago
Text
“anyway, it fell down and exploded. i’m so sorry.”
Remember when Magnus lied about Avi breaking Johann’s ukulele in The Suffering Game graphic novel? What was the fallout of that lie?
wc: 642
you can also read this on ao3 <3
“Babe.”
“Babe! Come on!”
Johann huffs and further turns his back onto Avi, examining the ukulele in his hands, scouring for any hint of damage. He keeps his mouth shut despite Avi’s pleas of innocence.
“You know I would never touch your instruments like that. I don’t know why Magnus would say that!” Avi insists. He rushes around to sit in front of Johann on his bunk, careful not to hit his head on the bunk above him, but Johann only turns away from him again. Avi groans. “At least talk to me?”
Johann mulls it over as his fingertips trail across the wood grain of his instrument, his lips parting as words begin to form on his tongue. “This shit is made of authentic, solid koa. Do you know how hard it is to get that stuff off the one island it grows on, and onto the mainland? Or onto the fucking moon?”
“I know, I know, just—” 
“I paid good money for her, I’m taking any threats against her well-being very seriously, Avingaq.”
The dreaded full first name. Avi shivers. “Please, Johann, It’s just a weird prank by Magnus! I’ve got nothing to do with this. It’s clearly fine and has not exploded.”
“Mm… but what if you fixed it, like, really fast. You’re an engineer.”
“If I could fix your instruments at all, let alone in like, what, half an hour? From being totally exploded? You’d never have to go back down on land ever again.”
“Not true, I don't go to land just for repairs— but not the point.” Johann does one last look-over the ukulele, paying extra attention to the seams of the upper bouts, and when he’s content, he finally places it onto his lap. He crosses his arms, still refusing to look Avi in the eye. “Yuki looks fine, thank you very much for your concern.”
Avi breathes a sigh of relief. He snakes his arms around Johann’s waist and rests his cheek on the side of his head. “I’m glad it’s okay. I told you, I would never throw your stuff. I’ve gotta talk to Magnus about what he—”
“Okay, but like, what if Magnus was mistaken? He obviously doesn’t know all the instruments I have or what they’re called. Maybe… maybe my charango’s in pieces and you’re hiding it from me!”
“Nope!” Avi tightens his grip on Johann’s body before he can wrangle his way out, and pushes him to lie on his bed. “Nope, we’re not doing that! Magnus lied! I’m innocent! Everything’s fine!”
Johann whines, pulling his ukulele to his chest to shield it from Avi. “Don’t push me too hard, or you’ll really hurt my baby.”
“I have never heard you talk like this before, babe.”
“That’s because I’ve never been in emergency crisis mode in public like that,” Johann says. Then, he sighs, loosening his grip on the ukulele to gently set it on top of its case, which sits on the floor. He has to awkwardly crane himself from Avi’s embrace and the bed, but he makes it work. “You will not tell anyone this happened.”
“Mhm, yup.”
“And I’m going to kill Magnus next time I see him,” Johann growls.
Avi nuzzles into Johann’s neck and plants a kiss on his skin. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he says, clearly distracted.
“He’s gonna,” kiss, “be fucking,” kiss, “dead on the ground,” kiss kiss kiss, “okay wow, you win, that feels nice.”
“I don’t win until, respectfully, you shut up.”
“Well, you’re going to have to stop me right at the source, then.”
Avi pulls himself away from the comfort of Johann’s neck, and he catches a glimmer of Johann’s adorable still-kind-of-angry pout on his lips before he captures them in his own. Without another complaint, Johann melts into Avi’s sweet kiss, and his stress melts along with it.
2 notes · View notes
livythewriter · 7 months ago
Text
Hidden Tears (Elsbeth x GN!Reader)
Tumblr media
Word Count: 1581
Warnings: Warnings: Angst, mild profanity, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of bullying and emotional abuse
Summary: Reader has had a really bad day, but is afraid to cry around others due to things that have happened in their past. Elsbeth just wants to help them out.
If I could skip a day at any time, and go to the next one, today would definitely be that day. It wasn’t even just one big thing that happened to make today such a fiasco, it was a bunch of tiny things, such as spilling my coffee, getting yelled at by a customer, tripping on my shoelaces and falling, and a lot more. 
By the time I got home, I wanted to cry, but I held back my tears. Elsbeth was home, and for as long as I remember, I’ve never felt comfortable crying around people. Maybe it was the fact that I would be belittled every time, or everyone would get annoyed, but I avoided crying around anyone because of the sheer dread that it now put in the pit of my stomach.
I decided I would try and make something to eat, because maybe it would help me feel better. I made my comfort meal, and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV. On the TV was my favorite show, and as I watched it, I started to feel better – though not completely fine, more eggshell okay than anything. I knew that if anything even small happened, I would break down. So I still made the effort to avoid talking to Elsbeth too much.
I realized in the middle of watching the show that I needed to get a few things from the store. I sighed, and got up, getting my shoes back on, grabbing my shopping list for today, and heading out the door. The drive wasn’t super long, and I got to the store in less than five minutes.
I looked at the shopping list. There were about seven things I needed to get.
I went down the aisle to the first item, and put it into my shopping cart. Six items to go now. I rushed up and down the aisles, grabbing more of the items I needed. I may have splurged a little and gotten a few - a lot of comfort food items. Yeah, tonight was gonna be a long night in. I hoped that I would be able to calm down completely soon so I didn’t break down in front of Elsbeth.
I was walking down to the cash registers when my cart rammed into another cart, seriously making me jump out of my skin. It scared the other person too, making them curse.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” I said, trying to keep my composure. My heart was still racing from the jumpscare, and I felt quite shaken.
The person just glared over at me, grumbling, “Pay attention, asshole.” and then moving past me. I felt like a total jerk, but tried to keep myself together as I checked out items.
I finally got home, and flopped onto the couch, putting the show back on. I heard footsteps coming downstairs and quickly tried to hide my exhaustion.
Elsbeth came up behind me and began to gently rub my shoulders, “Hey there, I feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” She said in her usual chipper voice.
“Oh yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Just wanted to watch TV in the living room.” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Ooh, do you think I could join you?” She asked.
“Uhh, sure.” Elsbeth sat down next to me on the couch and began watching the show with me. She saw all the snacks around me.
“Hey, you sharing those snacks?” She nudged me, smiling.
“Yeah, go ahead.” I decided to snack on some of the chips I got as well, and Elsbeth grabbed some popcorn, popping it into her mouth.
“Man, popcorn is great. So, what’ve you been up to today?”
“Uhhh, not much. Just went to work, went to the store and got these snacks.” I said, deciding to omit most of the truth.
“Same here, minus the snacks. I had a great day at work, though. Did you?”
“Uhhh yeah. A customer yelled at me, but it was otherwise pretty good.”
Elsbeth looked over at me, an expression of concern on her face, “Oh no, I am so sorry about that. Are you okay? They sound like a jerk…”
“I’m alright. Just a little tired, it was a bit of a long day.” I said.
“Well, if you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”
I just nodded, worried that if I spoke, my voice would crack.
Elsbeth leaned her head against my shoulder, a dopey smile on her face. “I am so glad to have you here.”
“Me too.” I smiled, feeling a little emotional hearing that.
“Though I am a little worried about you… You don’t seem very happy right now.”
“I’m alright.” My voice sounded hollow, but also full of emotion.
“I feel like that’s not true…”
“Nono, I’m okay!” I may have sounded a little too chipper to believe.
“Okay… but know I’m here if you need to open up.” She kissed my shoulder gently.
I nodded, suddenly feeling all the emotions of today flooding in. But I tried to keep my composure, I tried to keep myself together, I didn’t want to fall apart in front of her.
I heard Elsbeth sigh next to me, “You’re all stiff, something’s troubling you…”
“I’m fine.” I said, but my voice cracked.
Elsbeth peered up at me, her concerned expression giving her almost puppy eyes, “Please, I’m worried about you.”
“I just… had a really hard day is all.” My eyes began to fill with tears, and if I wasn’t already stiff and anxious, I definitely was now. I looked away as I felt a tear fall down my face, my heartbeat quickening with panic. I couldn’t fall apart, not in front of Elsbeth. I couldn’t ruin this, I couldn't ruin another relationship with my crying.
“Hey…” I felt Elsbeth’s arm snake around my shoulder, squeezing it gently, “You don’t have to hide your tears around me, you know? It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked, and I sniffled.
“It’s okay, you’re safe here.” Her voice took on a soft, soothing tone as she rubbed up and down my arm.
“I just had a really bad day, so much bad stuff happened, and now I’m crying in front of you, and I feel ridiculous, and I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” I rambled.
“You haven’t ruined anything, I’m still here. I’ll always be here. Look at me...”
I finally turned to face her, tears rapidly falling down my face and snot dripping out of my nose. I really did look ridiculous.
“Tell me what happened.” Her hand reached up to brush hair out of my face, and then wiped my tears. I explained everything that happened that day, and apologized for making such a big deal about nothing. “Hey, your feelings are completely valid. You’re not being ridiculous, it sounds like you’ve had a really hard day. It’s perfectly okay to be sad after today. And that jerk who cursed at you for ramming your cart into theirs, they’re just a sad person who wanted to make someone else feel small. It was an accident, and you didn’t do anything wrong.”
I nodded, trying to fix up the broken dam of my emotions, “Thank you.”
“Now, I hope I’m not prying here, but do you think you could tell me why you were so scared to cry around me? Do I seem like I would judge you or something? Because I would never do that, and I am so sorry if I’ve made it seem that way.”
“I just get worried that I’ll make a fool of myself, and once I cry once around someone, I’m more likely to cry again and again, and I didn’t want to ruin our relationship with all my crying.” I explained truthfully.
“Oh dear, I wouldn’t leave you even if you did cry a lot. I love you, ___” Elsbeth’s hand reached up to stroke my hair.
“Thank you.” I closed my eyes, trying to let the comfort of her presence guide me out of this hole I was in. “People haven’t always been nice to me when I cried around them, not taking me seriously or acting like I was trying to manipulate them.”
“Well I promise I will never do that.” Elsbeth planted a gentle kiss on my temple.
“What did I do to deserve you, you’re so loyal and understanding.”
“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.” She smiled warmly at me. I wiped my face clean using the tissues next to me and kissed her, cupping her face. Elsbeth’s lips felt so soft against mine, it was like an oasis in the desert. I pulled back and smiled, still feeling slightly bad, but feeling a lot better with her present.
“You have such a lovely smile…” I said, looking at the radiant smile gracing her features.
“Your smile’s even more lovely, though.” She kissed me on the cheek.
“Not true…” I said, giggling.
“So true.” She poked my cheek playfully.
I rolled my eyes, laughing more but deciding to give up and accept the compliment.
As we talked more and watched my show, I started to feel a lot better, and I thanked my lucky stars that I had someone like Elsbeth in my life. With her, I realized I finally had someone to be vulnerable around, someone who wouldn’t judge or belittle me, and it made things a whole lot easier for me from there on out.
4 notes · View notes
miss-americana-reputation · 2 years ago
Text
i’m a fucking slut for @oneforthemunny (and cowboy!eddie) so here’s another summer writing challenge
🃏prompt: cowboy!eddie x reader
fluff, cussing, she sits on his lap
“ed’s.” i smile as i finish packing the cooler. “yeah?” he asks. “ready?” i ask. “mhm.” he nods. “here. i got it.” he picks it up. “what did you put in this, fucking heavy.” he asks with a smile.
we head outside and he hands me the blanket. i carry it as he leads me to where he wants to take me. “wanna tell me what’s on the menu?” he asks. “no.” i smile. “okay.” he responds.
i softly reach for his hand, he takes my hand in his rough one.
we eventually get there, to a small creek at the edge of his property. was it a walk, yes. was it worth it, absolutely.
“this is a good spot.” he stops. i look around the field with patches of wildflowers in different areas. i set the blanket down and he sets the basket down.
he sits down and pulls me into his laugh. “eddie.” i smile. “hm? wanna show me what you packed?” he asks. i unzip the cooler and pull out the items. homemade lemonades in mason jars, small sandwiches, cut up cantaloupe and black berries, carrots, and cookies.
“you went all out, huh?” he snakes his arm around my waist. “mhm.” i nod. “only the best for the best.” i smile. i move off his lap to eat.
i smile as he’s looking around at the field. “what’s so interesting?” i smile. “nothing ‘ust pretty. not as pretty as you.” he smiles. “ed’s.” i blush. “not wrong.” he shrugs.
i start to eat one of the sandwiches and he drinks some lemonade. a few minutes later he doesn’t eat and i notice. “here.” i pull out the sandwich i packed for him, his favorite, a classic ham and cheese with a slice of lettuce between it.
he says it’s his favorite because of it was his mom’s favorite.
“i was getting there.” he smiles. “sure.” i smile back as he starts to eat. i open the container with fruit and the other one with carrots. “gonna make me fat, doll. bout to break frodo’s back.” he smiles. “i just wanted to be prepared.” i shrug.
he smiles and starts to eat some fruit. i smile as i finish up my sandwich and move onto eating the fruit also.
eventually most of the fruit and some carrots are ate, all of the sandwiches are gone, and most of the lemonade is drank. he ate some cookies while i only had one.
so here i am, braiding a flower crown while he’s in the creek. i smile at him, jeans rolled up to just below his knees, as he’s trying to find frogs or crawdads.
i finish up the crown i made for him and just watch him try to catch little critters in the water. a few moments later he comes back with his hands behind his back.
“ed’s.” i smile. “close your eyes.” he’s basically bouncing like a child. “fine.” i sigh and shut them. “hands in front.” he says. i do and i feel him place something wet and slimy in my hands.
i open my eyes to see a frog in my hands. “oh my god.” i jump in surprise. the frog jumps away and eddie goes and picks it up.
he walks back over and sets it back in the water. he quickly rushes back to me. “hi.” he grins. “hi.” i smile back. “no more frogs?” i ask. “nope.” he grins. “promise?” i ask. “mhm.” he nods. “okay.” i smile as he sits down beside me.
“i love you.” he smiles. “i love you.” i softly kiss him back. he smiles against me and i tangle my hands in his hair.
“oh!” i smile. “hm?” he asks. i reach over and put the flower crown on top of him. “what’s this?” he smiles. “i made it.” i grin. “thank you.” he leans down and pecks my lips.
i smile when he pulls away. “i wish i could bottle moments like this.” i confess. “me too, pretty baby, me too.” he coos.
———
40 notes · View notes
kumeko · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
A/N: For the Gravity Between Us Vol 2! These two are so awkward with each other, I just want to shove them in a closet to sort it all out.
Someone knocked on the door. Ochaco jerked her head up at the sound, tearing her attention away from the book in her hand. It sat heavily on her lap, her finger still marking the paragraph she’d been reading. Around her, her office was as messy as ever. Her notes lay scattered across the floor, magical tools abandoned and forgotten in odd corners, and there were at least three different mugs of coffee perched on various pieces of furniture.
Another knock reminded her of just why she’d looked up. “C-coming!” she yelped as she sprang off her chair, her thick tome falling to her feet with a loud thud. She winced.
Through the wooden door, rand a familiar, muffled voice: “Are you okay?”
Izuku.
Ochaco tried and failed to tamp down her blush. It was just Izuku’s voice. It was an ordinary question. She hadn’t even seen him yet. Yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t help but react to it.
This crush was starting to get out of control.
“Yeah!” she shouted, praying he couldn’t hear the blush in her tone. Stumbling to the door, she pressed her cheek against the cool, firm surface, hoping it’d get rid of the red. Her heart beat like a drum. She breathed in. She breathed out.
And then, as calm as she was going to get, she opened the door with a wide smile. “I’m fine! But if you’re here…did you get injured again?”
A sheepish Izuku filled her sight. As usual, he still had some of his armour on. He must have rushed here straight from practice. It’d actually be stranger if he hadn’t; almost all of his training bouts ended in injuries. He got injured so often that her office was considered the third most likely place to find Izuku, right after the stables and the training grounds.
“Well…” Izuku rubbed his neck, embarrassed. He held up his right arm. His white sleeve was rolled up, revealing a series of cuts and bruises encircling his skin. “Just a little bit.”
Ochaco paled. Izuku always surprised her, in the best and worst of ways, and she didn’t think she’d ever get used to his training injuries. She reached for him, trying to tamp down on that little spike of nerves she got whenever Izuku was injured. How was he always so calm when he was hurt? “Oh my god.”
“It looks worse than it feels,” Izuku added, smiling nervously. Despite his words, she could make out a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the slight wince as he lowered his arm, the way his jaw tightened as he breathed. The only good thing was that the cuts weren’t bleeding anymore, though red stained his shirt and smeared his skin.
Ochaco gritted her teeth. Pull yourself together! She had been training as an apprentice mage for a year, had been treating Izuku for months. This wasn’t the time to panic. “That’s an understatement!”
She stepped aside, ushering him in. Quickly, she cleared a spot for him to sit. Izuku knew the drill by now and promptly plopped down on the chair. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he apologized. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s not your fault you got hurt…” Ochaco trailed off before eyeing him suspiciously. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d overworked himself. “It’s not, right?”
He didn’t look her in the eye. His voice was guilt-ridden. “I…I’m not sure.”
She covered her face with a hand. There was a reason the head mage had stopped taking care of Izuku’s training injuries. There was a reason it had all been relegated to her. The man always came in once a week looking like he’d lost a fight. And that was a good week. “You’re not sure.”
“I…well…” Izuku scratched his cheek as he struggled to find the words. “I kinda got a new blessing, and I was trying to use it.”
Her head snapped up. “Another new blessing?”
“Yeah…” He averted his gaze as he shrugged. “It just came to me.”
Ochaco doubted that. The god’s blessings were usually limited to one per person. Few people unlocked theirs after childhood, fewer still that had multiple blessings. Yet Izuku had not just one, but three, and all gained after he’d joined the knights just last year. Even the great hero, the Almighty Sir Toshinori, only had one blessing.
He was hiding something. This was more than just being a late bloomer. Even if he hadn’t been a terrible liar, she’d have known that. Something in her ached at the thought—did he not trust her? Did he think she couldn’t handle it? Her lips parted to ask, but she forced the questions back down.
She didn’t want to pry. And there was something more important to deal with right now. Ochaco grabbed a jar of ink and her paintbrush. After dragging a stool closer to his seat, she sat down across from him. “You’re overworking yourself.”
“Not really.” He carefully pulled off his shirt, revealing a toned chest. Scattered across his skin were the remnants of other long-healed injuries. “I’m just starting as a knight and everyone else is miles ahead. I have to catch up.”
Ochaco stared at the murky black ink. The hardest part of taking care of him was sitting across from all of that and trying not to react. Forcing her hand to move, she dipped the brush in the ink and shifted her focus back to him. And his very, very attractive muscles. “You’re…you’re still overworking yourself. You need to rest sometimes.”
Good. Her voice didn’t come out weird. Her hand remained steady as she started to paint runes on his skin. Good. Good.
Izuku breathed in sharply. “I rest,” he replied, sounding oddly squeaky and strangled. His body stiffened.
Ochaco peeked up. Red dusted his cheeks—that was new. He had never reacted like that before. She’d have to ask him later about it. Hopefully, it didn’t have anything to do with her brush; at her skill level, she needed to draw these runes in order to heal. “You don’t,” she replied as she returned to her work.
“I do,” he protested.
“Not enough,” she disagreed firmly. She met his eyes with a hard glare. “Don’t lie.”
“That’s…sorry. I’ll do better.” Izuku coughed, clearing his throat. It still sounded unnaturally high. “Um…how’s your training?”
Ochaco chuckled as she sat back, setting aside the paint. “Well,” she drawled with a teasing smirk. “I’m really good at healing now.”
“Wh—” Izuku froze as he understood the implication of her words. He flushed, the red spreading all the way to his neck. “Sorry.”
She giggled. Part of her wanted to tease him more. Ochaco rested her palms on his chest and closed her eyes. “Maybe I should specialize in it. There’re too many spells to learn otherwise. I can’t memorize all the runes.”
Power welled up within her and flowed out of her fingertips, jumping to each of the runes like lightning rods. It left her with an oddly gentle, bubbly feeling. If only her attack magic worked just as well.
“I know you can do it,” Izuku reassured, and she almost opened her eyes at the sudden praise. “I’ve seen how hard you work.”
I’ve watched you too. The words remained locked in her chest. Part of her was afraid of ruining the careful balance they’d achieved. Another part of her was just afraid of rejection. She’d spent so long looking at him, she didn’t know where else to turn.
But if she stayed like this, nothing would change. Ochaco pulled away and clasped her hands in her lap. Steeling herself, she asked, “This Saturday, you’re off, right?”
“Saturday?” Izuku bit his lip as he pulled on and buttoned his shirt. After mulling it over, he nodded. “Yeah, there’s no training.”
“Do you have any plans?” She swallowed nervously. This was it. This was the question she’d been wanting to ask for months.
“Not exactly…” He crossed his arms, thinking about it. “I mean, I could train—”
“No. Training.” Ochaco ground her teeth, shooting him a glare. Exhaling softly, she fiddled with her fingers. “There was this field I told you about, remember? The one with the herbs? I was…thinking of going there and—and do you want to come with?”
Izuku stared at her blankly. When his silence became almost unbearable and she was just about to poke him, he sat up straighter and nodded. “S-sure. You wanted to collect those herbs for a while, right?”
“Y-yeah.” That wasn’t quite what she meant, and she felt both disappointed and elated. “So you’ll come?”
He gave her a thumbs up. “Definitely!”
It wasn’t what she had intended, but it was still a date of sorts. Ochaco smiled brightly. It was a step forward, and she’d take it.
19 notes · View notes
sarah-sandwich-writes · 2 years ago
Text
Find the Vibe Tag Game!
My vibe was "Go ahead, make me," and I was tagged by @xansmenagerie a small eternity ago. I don't know why it won't let me tag you but if you see this thanks!! This is from Blue like don't forget about me and I just wrote it last night so kindly look away from all the typos I can't see yet.
Teddy scrubs his hands against his thighs, then stuffs them in his armpits as his breath fogs in front of him. The moon is a faint crescent and the stars are washed out by the city lights but the wind is strong here on the pier and that’s all that matters tonight.
“That one.” He jerks his chin at a large rock sucked deep into the mud. “As far as you can.”
“I can’t pick that up.”
“Try.”
Nash turns to face him with flashing eyes and teeth bared. “When are y’all gonna tire on givin’ me orders. I am goddamn sick—,”
“That’s perfect. Hang onto that and throw the fucking rock.”
“Go to hell.”
“Excellent. Now, the rock.”
“How ‘bout I throw you instead?”
Teddy ticks his head. He’s not a great swimmer but he could probably—
“Lord, I ain’t throwin’ you out there. Quit with that look.”
Teddy shrugs. “Whatever, man. It’s your choice: me or the rock.”
“Oh do I get choices now?”
“Just this once.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. The fire in Nash’s expression wavers and then snuffs out. Gone. Like smoke. Instead of embracing his anger and venting it like Teddy wanted, Nash folds his arms atop the railing and shifts his weight to his good hip. The river crashes against the legs of the pier and slops up near their feet.
“When’s this gonna be over, Ted? I’m tired. I wanna go—,” He bites down on the end of his sentence and drops his chin atop his arms. He sighs. “Never mind.”
Teddy steps up onto the lower rung of the railing and peers down at the dark rush of water below. “It ends when we end it. There’s no other way around it. You know that.”
“Yeah.” He burrows deeper into the knit sweater he “borrowed” from the apartment. “I know.”
Teddy plays with his bracers. They feel natural on his wrists now. He never takes them off except to shower. He feels oddly light without them.
Tink tink tink— he builds up a charge and feels the energy build inside of him. He channels it, corrals it down into his hand and then into his finger until it’s a hot throbbing ball at the very end of his pointer finger. He points it at a buoy in the distance and says, “Pew.”
It disrupts the air with a warble as it launches from his finger in a brilliant burst of blue and then smacks into the water just to the left of the buoy.
“Someone is going to see.”
“Let ‘em.” Tink ,tink, tink. “Why should I hide?”
“Because you’re a criminal? Because powerful people out there want you dead?”
Teddy hums and fires his second shot. Too high, it sails over the top and hits the water with a splash. “I’m a powerful person.”
In silence, he readies his third shot, fires, and curses as it goes wide yet again.
Nash sighs. Then the wind whips around them, stronger and stronger until there’s a wet sucking sound and the rock rips up out of the sand, turns end over end, then rockets into the buoy—a direct hit.
“Asshole.” He steps down off the railing. Ting, ting ting. “Lucky shot.” He readies another energy blast, fires, and is finally rewarded with a sparking collision.
“I’ll show you luck.” Another rock rips up out of the surf and tumbles oblong and awkward through the air, but it hits the buoy dead on.
“Three times or it doesn’t count.”
They abuse the buoy until they’re both sagging under the strain and then a little longer after that. Nash manages to sling a rock in front of Teddy’s blast and it explodes in a firework of blue light that throws Nash’s victorious whooping into sharp relief and Teddy realizes that they’re all liars. Everyone who ever said time heals all things lied because he’s just as in love as he was six years ago. Maybe more.
Tagging: @sithbelle @harlstark @harleyification @keenerkey @sender-paulson aaaaandd everyone on blue's taglist! @wildswrites @themundanemudperson @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @theirtheretheyre @plonccc @thedumbestavenger @yors-truly @thephoenixandthecrocodile @cljordan-imperium @writeblrvotes
Your vibe is, "Who did this."
14 notes · View notes
bumblepony · 11 months ago
Note
For the touches ficlet prompts could I have hugs number 17, hugging from behind?
Thank you, @ameerawrites, for this lovely Tumblr prompt. I really enjoyed writing it.
Maria huffs as she pushes her locs back from her sweaty brow. Ameera caught a cold that was going around town, and Jack had pulled his back last week trying to impress some of the younger patrollers when getting off his horse. So Maria was stuck having to help in the barn. It's not that she hates working with the horses, but honestly, it's not one of her favorite jobs.
With a groan, she brings her hands to the small of her back and tries to bend backward just a little to alleviate some of the stiffness she's experiencing, mucking out the stalls. She hears two loud pops and gives a near moan at the immediate relief that rushes through her body.
She's just about to grab the shovel again when she feels a set of arms wrap around her waist and a tall, hard body press up against her back. She gasps in surprise and instinctively grabs one of the arms around her waist; she twists her body while twisting the arm, and once she's turned around, her attacker is facing away from her, their arm having been forced up behind their back. Using her full body weight, she shoves the unknown individual into the stall wall and holds them there by continuing to apply upward pressure to their arm and elbow.
"Shit, shit, shit. Maria stop, it's me, it's Tommy. You're gonna break my fuckin' arm." Tommy grunts, his face smushed up against the rough wood. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Maria gasps and releases him right away, stepping back with her hands in the air. "Tommy, oh my god, I'm so sorry." Tommy groans, turning himself slowly around and rubbing his elbow, with an embarrassed expression on his face. "What the hell were you thinking sneaking up on me like that."
"I'm real sorry, darlin' just was walkin' by on my way to the tack room, and I saw you here, and I just wanted to say good mornin'. Figured you might welcome it after last night." Tommy brings his hand up to run along the back of his neck nervously, a flush creeping along his cheeks. Maria feels her skin heat as well as she remembers the rushed sloppy kisses that they had exchanged last night outside the Tipsy Bison after they had both spent the evening dancing and drinking. They'd finally broken apart, and Tommy had walked her to her house, Maria had thought about inviting him in, but by the time they had gotten to her door, cooler heads seemed to have prevailed. Tommy had given her a chaste kiss before pulling away, tipping his hat, and wishing her a good night.
"Yeah, about that. I had a little too much to drink, and I think things got away from me," Maria says, taking another step back, trying to put some distance between them. "I don't think it's a good idea for the two of us to get involved."
"Why's that sugar?" Tommy asks, an eyebrow cocked in question.
"Well, first of all, you're too young for me," Maria says, waving her hand between the two of them. 
Tommy puts his hands up to forestall her, "Whoa, whoa, Maria, hold up. Just hold up. First, how old do you think I am, darlin'?"
"Your early 30s?"
"Oh, Shit, sweetheart, no, I’m 43."
"Oh. Well, then, you look a lot younger."
“Thanks for the compliment, sugar.” He smiles, then an idea seems to flash behind his eyes, and he squints at her. “Now just wait, how old are you?
“Same age.” She replies, pulling her locs back up into a bun on the top of her head.
“Well shit, that's good then, here I was, thinkin’ I was a dirty old man for bein’ interested in you. That one less thing to worry ‘bout.”
Maria waves her hand at him and tuts, “You can’t have thought I was that much younger than you.”
“I can, and I did, darlin’. Now I’m mighty happy ya ain’t because that means I can do this.” He steps forward right into her personal space, Maria automatically backs up and realizes that she’s right against the other stall wall. Tommy doesn’t touch her this time he just places one arm on the wall above her and leans in like he’s about to kiss her but stops a few inches away. “Maria, can I kiss ya?”
Maria raises a hand to rest on his chest. “Yes, but… did you learn how to do this in a book or something?” She waves at his arm above her on the wall.
“What do ya mean?” Tommy wrinkles his forehead as he looks at his arm and then back down at her.
“The whole put your hand on the wall and lean in thing. It’s just something men do in romance novels,” Maria says, trying and failing to hold back a laugh.
“Hey now, all my moves are one hundred percent Tommy Miller originals.” He huffs with indignation, but Maria can see a playful twinkle in his eye. “Now, can I finally kiss ya darlin'?”
“Sure, but can we maybe do it away from the horse shit,” Maria says with another laugh, and they both look down, taking in their location.
“Oh damn sure, shoulda thought of that before. How bout I help ya get this taken care of, then I take you for a bite over at the dinnin’ hall.” Tommy steps back and shuffles over to the shovel.
“I love every part of that idea, but how about after we’re done here, we go back to my house so we can shower this crap off, and then we can eat some leftovers from my fridge after I’ve thoroughly ravished you,” Maria says giving Tommy a wink.
“Oh, I like your idea a lot better, but I got one addendum,” Tommy says, dropping his shovel and sweeping Maria up into his arms, kissing her soundly as he walks her out of the stall. Once they’re both breathless, he pulls away, “How’s about we do everythin’ in your plan, but we skip finishin’ up here since this stall ain't currently bein’ used, and you already finished the rest. I happen to know someone who’s a part of the council and I think she’ll forgive us skippin’ this one for today.”
“You know, Tommy, I think you’re right. I don’t think she’ll mind us skipping this one for today. Now take me home, cowboy.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
2 notes · View notes