#fluffy imagine

[parvulous-writings]

Don’t push it. // Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: You nurse an ill, and very reluctant Miguel

Warnings: I’m bad at Spanish, Miguel has a cold and is grumpy git. Gender neutral terms used around reader to the best of my ability! 

Words: 2.3K

Notes:  Am I somewhat out of it? Yes. Shush.  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!   If you’d like to support me more, consider donating to my kofi! I’d appreciate it loads!!  

Not my gif

It wasn’t uncommon for Miguel to be grumpy; the stress of everything pertaining to the multiverse weighed heavily on him. He could not have what happened to him, that gut-wrenching loss of life, happen to anyone else. He would make sure that everything stayed in order, that canon events happened when they were meant to, that all spider-people were on the same trajectory. The task and the past that it stemmed from weighed heavily on him, always. So, statistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he started developing cold symptoms - he was under so much stress that his ability to fight off illness had been heavily affected. He found the symptoms mildly annoying to begin with, but since he was still able to continue his work without much impairment, he did so, trying to make sure he did as much as he would normally do even though he could feel his nose getting steadily more and more blocked.  After a few hours, an ache began to make itself known on his forehead; a massive headache. Miguel tried to power through this, too, but steadily it became very overwhelming to him. The lights - which were typically dimmed anyway due to his sensitivity to them- were starting to bug him. 

“Lyla.” 

Hell, he sounded sick, like he was pushing his voice past it’s limit. 

“Turn out the lights.” 

Without a word, everything went black, asides from the soft orange glow of the screens around him. Typically, Lyla would have given him a quip, or a joke in retaliation, but she didn’t even try this time, she could tell he was too ill for things like that. She appeared near his shoulder, only just in his peripheral vision. “You’re not looking too hot, y’know... You want me to call someone?”  “No.”  “You should-”  “I said no.” He replied gruffly again, “Just let me get on with my work.” He shirked his shoulder, as if Lyla actually physically stood there. The hologram tapped her chin, pouting slightly as she thought - well, as much as she could think at least. She knew exactly the course of action she’d have to take here. 

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen side, prolonged and repetitive - the screen flashing with the caller ID: Lyla ✨. She had added the emoji herself a while ago, and you hadn’t had the heart to remove them. If Lyla was trying to contact you without just randomly materialising in front of you, something was off. You didn’t need Spidey-sense to know that it would be about Miguel. You tapped the screen a couple of times, answering the call and putting it on speaker, so you could continue in the kitchen, making yourself some lunch.  “Go on, Lyla, fill me in.” You said to her. “Well...” Lyla began, drawing out the syllable an almost humorous amount of time. “Miguel is ill, and he’s refusing to rest or take a break. I think you’re going to have to come in, to either get him to rest here, or just take him home. He’s going to tear someone’s head off if we’re not careful...” She warned. You sighed quietly, you knew she was right, even if she was slightly exaggerating.  “Alright... Give me ten minutes, okay?” And with that, the call finished. You quickly got through your food, before putting on your shoes and heading out of the apartment, hoping to catch one of the speeding trains to the edge of the city. One of the perks of getting to reside in Nueva York, was that there was at least somewhat easy access to the place where your beloved worked - and practically lived it felt like. It also helped that most of the Spiders knew you, and helped you to navigate the rather large, and confusing building. If you needed to be somewhere in the building quick, you knew you didn't have to be afraid to ask one of the many, many Spiders milling around every corner of every room in the structure. Thankfully, that wasn't the case today - you weren't entirely sure that a lot of fast paced swinging would help your food go down. Instead, you were taking one of the many elevators installed, straight up to the top of the building; of course, the dark, brooding Miguel O’Hara had to have something that could only be described as a lair. The fact that the lights were off were not helping the matter, either. 

As soon as you entered the room, you knew where he was - Miguel was always  in the same place. His shoulder twitched slightly as the doors slid open quickly for you - he had picked up the minuscule change in light. He hadn’t, however, realised it was you entering the room; one downside of not having the spider-senses so many others seemed to be blessed with. “Go away.” He gruffly called down to you, not even turning around.  “Fine way to greet your other half...” You chuckled softly, and it was then that he glanced over his shoulder, eyes wandering down to your distant silhouette.  “...Corazón... What are you..?”  “Lyla called... Come down, Miggy...” You spoke softly, not taking his former gruffness to heart. You knew he didn’t mean it, not really. He was sweet to you always - a softie through and through, beneath the rough and ragged exterior, the front that he put up in front of others, to keep them at arms length. At an almost comically slow pace, his platform began to descend. It seemed like forever had passed before Miguel was shuffling towards you. You open your arms when he gets close, and embrace him. For a moment, you both just stand in the hug, drinking in the sense of being in one another’s arms. After a minute or two, you pulled away slightly, cupping Miguel’s face carefully in your hands, subtly examining him. Miguel still noticed what you were doing, though. “Stop, mi amor... I’m fine...” He told you, bringing one of his large hands up to your own, and resting it on top. “Absolutely fine...” He reiterated, but of course, you could see it wasn’t true. His entire face was red, and hot - and you knew that for once, it wasn’t you that had caused this. You stayed quiet, thinking. How could you get him home to rest, without agitating him too much? Not an easy task, no. 

“Come home for lunch, sweetheart...” You suggested to him. “I’ll make you something special...”  He was going to protest about this - you could see it brewing behind his eyes, but you kept going. “Then you can come back here later... okay?”  “The multiverse isn’t going to watch itself...” The man grumbled, his brows furrowing together, putting creases through his forehead; ones that had been used so many times before throughout his life.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine for a little while... And besides, Lyla can keep an eye whilst your gone, can’t she?” You look off to the side, where the glowing little form of Lyla was hovering, jumping back and forth, before giving you two thumbs up. “’Course I can.” She confirmed. “That’s what I’m here for.” She chuckled softly, before zipping away to examine the many amber monitors at the back of the room, before Miguel could try and protest that she wouldn’t be able to; not that the glowing AI would take no for an answer anyway.  “The trip home isn’t too long, Miguelito...” You told him, carefully starting to lead him out of the room, though he was putting up some resistance now; you had called him the nickname primarily used when he was ill.  “I’m not sick...” He protested, before glancing over your shoulders to the door that was about to snap open, and he stopped in his tracks, unmoving though you tugged at his arm. “... The lights are on out there...” He mumbled, red eyes glancing down at you. You knew all too well that he would not be able to handle any of the light on the way home. You hummed quietly in thought, before looking at him. “Did you bring your sunglasses with you?”  “No,” He scoffed. “I didn’t need to, when I came in.” He told you, his wide arms crossing over his even wider chest. “I don’t need to go home..” He insisted, “I will be fine..” Considering you now had no way to get  him back to your shared apartment without giving him the biggest flashbang, and biggest accompanying headache of his life, you figured you’d have to make do with whatever you could find in his office. Your eyes darted this way and that, trying to find anything soft that you could use as a pillow, so that Miguel could actually lay down, and rest. There were a few chairs, of varying plushness, which you could perhaps repurpose for nap time.  You moved quickly and with purpose, moving items this way and that to create a small nap area for your partner. “There we are...” You announced after a few minutes, stepping back to admire your work. Was it five star hotel worthy? Perhaps not, but it would do for the moment. Miguel seemed to sneer at  the sight,  but after a gentle push on the arm, he acquiesced. Maybe amusing you wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Carefully, you guided him down onto the bed, comprised of plush desk chairs. It was an awkward fit, but with a little bit of work, Miguel was just about comfortable, though he still looked very grumpy. “You didn’t have to do that.” He muttered, “I was fine as I was.”  “You continuing as you were would have ended up with slobber all over the consoles.” You joked, shaking your head as you tried to help him get a bit comfier.  “I don’t drool in my sleep.” That was a flat out lie - he knew he did. It was hard not to, what with his fangs; it was hard enough keeping them in his mouth when he was awake sometimes.  “Uh huh, alright honey, if that’s what you say..” You tease quietly, quickly pecking his cheek. “Now... You try and have a snooze, okay?”  “... I’m not five.”  “Have a snooze, Miguel.” You repeat, just as soft as before- there was no use in being too hard on him when he was like this, he was going to be stubborn no matter what you did or what approach you had decided to take. He huffed, a frown clear on his lips, despite the darkness in the room.  “Yes, mother.” He replied sarcastically. As much as he was protesting, however, he had to quietly admit to himself, laying down and closing his eyes for a moment did feel nice. Almost heavenly, in fact. 

“How quickly did the symptoms come on, Lyla?” You asked, your voice nothing more than a whisper.  “Fairly quickly.” She replied. She wasn’t forcing her voice to be quiet like you were, she had only turned her volume down in a literal sense. “Started sniffling, then on came the headache.” She shrugged. “Though I do have to say - never seen him give up that quickly before. Usually Peter B argues with him for at least an hour before Miguel even takes a five minute break, let alone a whole nap. I’m impressed.” Her golden form zipped away for a moment, clicking a quick selfie with the already sleeping Miguel, before returning to her prior  position. “Well, I suppose being his lover does help a bit... I’d like to think he has a soft spot for me.” You chuckled, joking with Lyla. You had always been fond of her, even if she wasn’t human, she certainly knew how to act like one. Miguel always acted like he found your bond with his AI companion to be more trouble than it was worth, but in actuality, he found it rather cute - he too had his own unique relationship with the software.  “Yeeaahh, I think you’re right... I think he’s got more than just a soft spot for you, though. He’s just soft for you.” She told you. “Now, don’t tell him I told you this, buuut... You know how he keeps way too many tabs open at once?” Anyone who even took one sideways glance at Miguel’s floating desktop knew how many tabs he kept open at any one time, so you just nodded. “Well... By my calculation, about 53% of those are centered - one way or another - on you. Like your favourite food, song, tv shows and movies, as well as-”  “Alright, alright, I get it, Lyla...” You laughed gently, your eyes landing on the peaceful form of your sleeping boyfriend, who was already starting to gently snuffle in his sleep; the cold had overcome him quicker than he could have ever expected, and it was clear that his body was thanking him - and you - for giving it a moments peace. A little bit of solace from the immense pressure that never went away. “C’mon.. let’s leave him be for a little while... D’you know where Peter B is?” You asked, slowly starting to move towards the door. “Might go tell him that Miguel is having a nap, at work of all places.”  “Oh, he’s going to love that,” Lyla replied, taking a seat on your shoulder. “Though I think he’ll keep asking how you managed to do it... I think he’s in the cafeteria.” She chuckled, waving vaguely in the direction of your new destination. Your voices both faded off into the distance as you strolled down the hall, leaving the sleeping O’Hara to whatever dreams his mind could conjure for him, and there he would likely stay for the rest of the day - he certainly did need that rest. 

[rimunagenius]

Home.

Pairing: Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza x GN!reader

Words: 644

Warnings: None.

A/n: I love Riz. He deserved the utmost genuine and undying love, and he definitely deserved better. That’s it. I just love my pretty boy.

Masterlist!!

NOT MY GIF!!

You knew the usual life of the club. The demanding runs, and the taxing ordeals that played out whether the guys intended them to or not. And you knew him. You knew your favorite boy’s empath traits and how some of these things took a toll on him. How most of the time, he took the brunt of the fight. Including the physical parts.

So you knew on nights like these when he stumbled into the house to find the living room light on, you on the couch with a blanket covering your legs, your favorite show running on the TV, that he would come home and be safe and relaxed with you. Be free of the outside world.

“Hi, baby.” You whispered as he sat himself abundantly close to you so that your shoulder and hips were touching as he toed off his boots. You leaned over kissed his cheek, looping your arm through his as he sat back, resting his head on the backrest of the couch.

He turned to face you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek bone with his thumb, kissing you so passionately yet so calm and sensualy. “Hola, amor mio.” He kissed you again, his tongue sneaking into your mouth, you accepting it happily.

He sighed after he pulled away, taking off his kutte, all to rest his head on the backrest of the couch again. “Rough day, mi amor?” You situated yourself to face his body, your arm around the back of his neck, his face now pointed in your direction as you ran your hand over his head, tangling your fingers softly into his hair.

Snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, he hummed softly, lifting his legs onto the couch, now fully intending to get you laying down so he could lay just how he liked—right between your legs with his head on your chest.

Knowing just what he wanted, you obliged and layed down so he could be comfortable. Now throwing the blanket that once covered you, over the both of you. “Fucking terrible day.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, securing you into him all while he was on top of you.

“It’s okay, relax, baby. I gotchu now.” You continued to tangle your fingers in his hair, massaging and playing with it while you both silently watched friends, giggling every now and then.

As you placed another kiss onto his head, you noticed his breathing turned even and steady. You smiled as you just looked down at the man laying on you. The man you loved and held so dearly to your heart. Your Michael. Your Riz. Your husband. You’d kill for this man, kill to have him like this in your arms for the rest of your life.

To hell with your friends and his, all you needed was eachother. To be wrapped up in their company and you’d be content even if the world was ending. You knew it could be an unhealthy look to someone who didn’t know you two, but the way you practically lived and breathed for him, was just to put it simply. Everyone around you saw the love you both shared for eachother. Undying.

“I love you, Ariza. Forever.” As the words left your mouth, he seemed to have squeezed you tighter, and sighed happily into your chest.

You shut the TV off and decided to just sleep on the couch tonight. His comfort and rest was more important than trying to get you both to bed. As you closed your eyes, and slowly started to drift, a ghost of a kiss was placed upon your chest, and half sleep and soft words were spoken. “I feel safe with you cariño. I love you. Always.”

You were his safe space and he was yours. No matter the weather, the events of the day, the impalpable love you two shared, brought you back to your grounded place. Brought you home.

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 4 ~ Sharing A Bed

Sisters Best Friends, the morning after. Reader is a pilot.

Bob is already fully dressed by the time you wake up the morning after having the best birthday ever the previous night

He has this loving look in his eyes as soon as you wake up smiling at him after yawning and stretching

"Good morning my beautiful pilot. I hope you slept as well as I did."

Being the cheeky bastard that he is he pulled you into a passionate kiss not caring about morning breath or anything

You don’t need an alarm because it’s the weekend and also because your sister always wakes you up when you sleep for longer than she wants you to sleep

Being in the navy for some long has her internal clock ticking away from early in the morning

Phoenix will bring the coffee up not wanting to wait for you to wake up any longer

Because she loves sharing coffee with you in the morning especially after a night of drinking

Finding that a good pot of coffee can do wonders for a terrible case of being hangover

Natasha is shocked to see that her WSO and best friend is laying on top of you, her little sister, without a shirt kissing the daylights out of you

After that you and Bob had a bit of explaining to do and she left feeling a bit weird at the idea of her sister and her best friend being together

But she quickly got over it a week later when she realises he treats you like a princess

“Just like he should.” Natasha always thinks

And taking care of you while at the Hard Deck that same day, even though you can take a man down twice your size

So after she leaves he treats you like royalty for the rest of that morning, since he can be quite rough during sex

He rewards you for being his “good little girl”

"I was fantastic wasn't I?" he questioned being the cocky asshole he is because he knows that he is the best you have had for a while now

Needs cuddles afterwards because the man is clingy as hell not that you can complain

You guys will make up tons of excuses as to why you two are late Top Gun training

He can't convince anyone because they know he is loud and you aren’t any better

Don’t even get him started on bathroom sex after spending the night in bed watching movies with you and Phoenix

He puts you in front of your mirror and starts brushing your hair to the side while moving you up and down on his lap

You just love each other so much and you are glad that Phoenix caught you because now you can show the world your love for each other

He is the best boyfriend turned husband you could have asked for and the best dad for your little munchkins

Day 3 | Masterlist | Day 5

[urfriendlywriter]

specific tropes in romance that always heal something in me that it never broke

like, forehead kisses, soft love confessions, peppering kisses all over the lover's face. promises that are kept, hands those are held with a gentle love, and hugs that engulf the heart too.

or when they rest their head on your chest, or lean on you for support.

"your tears kill me," kinda thing. or when a sunshine character finally cries and bawls their entire life's hurt out into their comfort grumpy character (plus point, if the grump feels guilty thinking if they had done something to trigger this emotional outburst)

communication. no matter hard the topic is, how big your differences are.

listening to the other person yap

admiring their facial features and seeing not just the outer structure but the person that they really are.

them getting angry on ur behalf

cradling each other in hugs basically

feeling emotional walls break when you're with that one person particularly

gentle communication. yearning to do more for your lover (!!!!)

affectionate smiles and eyes crinkling with a smile that's directed specially at you.

finding their laugh contagious.

the feeling of being accepted, despite flaws and all

silent domestic acts like being in the kitchen together, dressing up together, them drying ur hair while u sit between their legs

occasionally stolen kisses

or one deep kiss that just lights your world and fulfills your soul and heart.

sleepily nuzzling into each other!!

reaching for each other despite being asleep, with mumbled endearments and whispers of need!!!

laughter coming easily by their side, like happiness is just another day to day thing (this can also be about self love. when u truly love urself and prioritize your own rights and cherish the fact that you're you. happiness becomes beautiful even in solitude)

their fingers buried deep in yo- OOPS.?! :)

[skyrigel]

Omega!reader making a nest

Simon was flipping a pancake when you came tip toeing, unsure and frowning before rubbing an off white shirt up and down his muscled arms.

“Want pancakes, love ?” He asked, only to find his lovely omega sniffing up the shirt with a hum and going' back to bedroom. He huffed and poured the sizzling batter.

Five more minutes he watched with concerned eyes, while you ignored his many calls to eat something, just looking up with an unsatisfactory glance around, taking discarded socks and even tissues Simon was sure he threw just this morning, picking random objects up and sniffing them before looking at him with glowing eyes and asking him to hold them or rub these things on him.

“What is it baby, huh ?” He asked again, pouring maple syrup and chocolate over the pancakes just as you liked.

This time, you regarded him —“Gimme ya shirt.” And by that, you weren't even asking, straight up demanding with your palm outstretched to ask for the shirt he was wearing.

“Oh.” Simon chuckled, it took him only a moment to unbutton swiftly and hand over the shirt to you. “Need anything more, your highness ?”

“Mmm” You seemed to think for a bit, then without warning pinched out his hair, and with a satisfying smile rushed back to bedroom, unaware of your amused yet stunned alpha.

“Come back here ya lil' sweetie !” Simon called after you, holding up the breakfast plate.

He waited for you to come out again and hope around in for your odyssey but you didn't come out again.

Simon smiled to himself, knowing what you were upto and decided this was getting concerning and needed intervention right now. So he set aside the plate and wandered inside the bedroom.

And there he found his beautiful omega, you were biting your lips and tapping your foot like you always did when anxious, looking at the bed which has been now decorated with many of his clothes, his used cup, and his socks, there was his military gear too, all stacked up beautifully in an clumsy attempt.

Simon's heart welled up with extreme affection, his precious omega was making a nest with his things, everything that smelled like him.

“Babe—” he reached out to you, but your shoulders were already shaking with unshed tears. “This is not good.” You sniffed back as Simon's big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you until your tears kissed his bare chest.

“It's the most beautiful nest my love. Look at you, my lil’ omega working so hard.” Simon coddled you, his eyes glancing at the bed with heart eyes, there were pillows from the couch he was napping this morning over. The newspaper he was reading was secured too, his mask was tucked in the middle of the headboard. You made it all around him because he was your safe place, your alpha mate.

“Do you like it ?” You looked up with tears stained eyes, honestly it felt like a mess to you, like a cluster of things you'd gathered up and dumped together.

But Simon made you feel safe, you couldn't imagine anything else in your nest except everything that was him.

Simon kissed your forehead first, then a peck to your lips and again, because you were his.

“I love it,” He smiled with bright eyes, “I love you my baby.”

Masterlist

[bunnis-monsters]

Platonic!yandere bee hybrid sons that refuse to let anyone touch their queen. In this scenario, you were taken against your will to be a queen, forced to pump out eggs.

You’re their mama, and they’re tired of others using you!

When you could no longer incubate eggs, they planned on killing you and capturing a new queen… but your sons wouldn’t have it!

You’re tired, you need to rest and be pampered and they’re here to make sure you never go without proper care!

The original bee hybrids hadn’t been kind enough to you, simply using your body to create more bee hybrids, but what they didn’t know is that you would create the most loyal sons that would free you from your captivity and slaughter those who would even think about laying a hand on their precious mama!

They take you to a quiet place, taking care of their mama and forming cuddle piles, all buzzing comfortingly and making sure you’re happy and safe. They never want to see you in pain again.

All you ever did was love them, make sure they grew up knowing that they could be anyone they wanted. And they all wanted to be your protectors.

They just had to take down the hive, and now you could retire with your family. Your little ones clung to your breast, feeding as your older sons focused on maintaining the hive and ensuring you’d never have to worry about producing eggs again. They didn’t care if the hive ended with their generation, they wanted you to have a peaceful and happy life!

Their fuzzy bodies and soft chubby faces all nuzzle and snuggle into you from every angle. To be loved is to be protected and cherished above all else, and you were loved dearly.

[skyland2703]

It’s 3 AM, but fuck it, we’re being domestic | Prompts

Alternatively, just some fluffy domestic romance prompts, but they feel more cute when they’re in the middle of the night because one or both of the ship characters are insomniacs.

Dancing together in the kitchen, in the refrigerator light, and then sitting on the kitchen counter, eating ice-cream directly from the carton.

Walking barefoot on the dew covered grass, hand in hand, under the stars.

Sitting on the floor trying to piece together IKEA furniture because one person got obsessed with finishing it the same day.

Middle of the night cooking, except it’s making the weirdest most absurd dishes imaginable, just for fun.

Making love, except it’s on the bedroom floor.

Cleaning cupboards or attics and finding lpppittle mementos, childhood pictures, etc and talking about memories.

Midnight drives with street food pit-stops and making out with the car radio playing in the background.

Tossing a smiley stress ball around the house watching it knock into furniture— Bonus, if one person is tossing it and another is scrambling around trying to make sure no furniture falls over, causing squabbles.

Gossiping about annoying relatives/friends, parents etc.

Making each other coffee, except the rule is: adding all of the other person’s favorite ingredients PLUS one mystery ingredient which might be good bad or ugly. For funs~

Late night massage sessions because they’re old (they’re not even thirty. Maybe they are.) and their back huuurts.

Ramp Walk/Modelling sessions where one person tries out every single outfit in their closet, and the other one rates or judges them all and gives (mostly useless) opinions.

Doing laundry except they can’t put the clothes out for drying because there’s no sun, so they spread them all over the furniture (only the stuff that doesn’t go bad with the water-) and switch on all the fans.

Weird selfie poses and filming random tiktok dances.

Alternately, sitting side by side on the bed (or the floor—) deleting old pictures from their phones to make storage and laughing about embarrassing old pictures. (A “my phone might die of lack of storage but that super embarrassing picture of yours from six years ago isn’t going anywhere!”)

One of them randomly googling super random shit and telling those facts to the other person, and the other one, super sleepy, just nodding along to everything.

Painting dates where either both of them are amazing artists or neither of them are, (or one is and the other isn’t) and they switch canvases periodically to finish each other’s paintings. (Chaos for the ones who can’t paint, and two beautiful art pieces for the ones who can~)

Alternatively, one is an artist and the other models for them while being utterly sleepy bc Artist has insomnia :D

One is a musician and keeps the other up all night with the music. Or alternately, the partner has insomnia and the sleepy musician plays them something to pass the night (and what if it turns out to be a lullaby-)

Turning the junk, broken and useless stuff in their house into a rage room for the night.

Learning crocheting from YouTube and making each other weird little woollen mementos. (Could go for anything really. Learning shit with esch other in the middle of the night from YouTube—)

Annnnd that’s about all I got :3 I’ll probably be back with more! Prompts welcome~

[parkers-gal]

promise J.B.

summary: bucky is protective over reader, the new lab assistant and resident doctor at the compound

wc: 2k

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

a/n: no warnings (lmk if i missed anything). barely proof read. requests are open!

═══════════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════════

the first time he met you, he was expecting dr. cho’s usual lab assistant. it was meant to be a brief check in after his latest mission with sam, just a minor tweak to a piece of tech on his uniform. 

“hey, do you thin-” bucky strides in to dr. miller’s office, full tactical suit still on. he’d came straight from the quinjet, but glancing up from his arm holster he notices that dr. miller’s office is now replaced by your office. 

you look up from your lab report, a pile of open wires laying beside it as you twiddle with the machinery. “oh, i’m sorry. i think dr. banner forgot to notify you: dr. miller transferred to shield co-op missions. i’m his replacement.” you wipe the sweat from your hand onto your white lab coat and stand from your chair. “i’m y/n.”

bucky reads the nametag on your labcoat, dr. l/n. “oh.” his eyes move from the tag to your eyes. “sorry.” 

your smile immediately shifts whatever emotions he just had about the situation. your expression is soft and for a moment, bucky thinks you’re too innocent to be working in a business surrounded by violence. it provokes something deep in his stomach, something he can’t quite place.

“i’d be happy to assist you with whatever you need, though!” you smile again, this one giving bucky an even warmer feeling through his chest. “i already read all of dr. miller’s previous lab reports, and i’m just as good with needles as i am with technology.” you shift your head towards the mutilated hardware on your desk, then smile back at bucky.

he almost chuckles. almost. instead, he adorns a smirk, so subtle you might not have caught it had you not been staring at him, waiting for a reply. hesitantly, he steps forward, holding his arm out to show you what he needs changed.

that was four months ago. now, bucky looks for any excuse to head to your office, whether it be a slightly twisted wrist, a broken button on his suit, or even a question about a new weapon for his next mission. 

“what can i do for you today, james?” your back is turned to him. you’re busy fiddling with a microscope, but bucky can hear the smile on your face.

“bucky,” he corrects. “are you going to tony’s gala this saturday?”

you stop squinting and stand upright, turning to face him. you have a quizzical look on your face. “do doctors usually go to those sorts of things?”

bucky shrugs. “i think dr. cho has before.”

you hum, turning back to the microscope. “well, i do need to catch up with natasha…” you turn the knob for the lens. “is that why you came to see me?”

he pauses. you hear his feet shuffling and smile to yourself. “i just wanted to ask about… my… belt.”

you suppress a laugh and face him again “really?” you grin. “your belt?”

he hums, a tint spreading on his cheeks. 

“well, i haven’t had lunch yet, if you would like to get something for us, we can talk about your belt during my break.”

his head perks up at that. “okay, i’ll be back in twenty.”

he’s out of the room so quick and it makes you smile again. as you turn back to the microscope, somebody else enters.

“back alread- oh.” 

john walker. 

you have never been particularly fond of him, especially after a heated argument he had with sam and steve a couple months back. he works for shield, but sometimes they send him to the avenger’s compound to retrieve specific types of upgrades or get intel about an overlapping mission. 

“aw, don’t seem too disappointed, sweets.” he smiles, the image disgusting you. 

you walk away from the microscope towards a centrifuge sitting on the opposite counter. 

“what can i help you with?”

“what, i come all this way and i can’t just talk to you?”

you bite your lip. “i’m afraid i don’t understand.”

he laughs. “i want to get to know you.”

“like right now?”

“right now… over dinner…” he smiles again, the same disgusting one. “whichever you prefer.”

unsure on how to reply, you turn back to the machine. “i don’t know if that’s appropriate.”

“but it’s okay if you do it with bucky?”

“what about me?” bucky steps through the door with a bag of food in one hand. once noticing john, his jaw clicks. “what are you doing here?”

“just wanted to talk to the lady, that’s all.” he shrugs his shoulders. “is that against the law?”

“it is if she doesn’t want that.”

your gaze shifts to bucky. his blue eyes are piercing, and his gaze is colder than any he’s ever given you. you sense the tension growing the longer he stares at john. 

john interrupts the silence. “what’s the issue, man?” he steps towards bucky. it’s a small step, but it has bucky rigid. “it’s not like she’s taken. she’s free game.”

bucky scoffs. “if you speak about women like they’re prizes to win then you don’t deserve to speak to them.”

your heart flutters. after all he’s been through, bucky still chooses to be an amazing guy. your admiration for him only grows. 

“nobody said anything about that.” john raises his hands in surrender. “don’t get jealous… it’s not like she’s yours…”

his jaw clenches again. you can see his hands are balled into fists at his side. faintly, you hear the whirring of the metal plates in his arm. 

“i think you should leave.”

bucky steps aside, clearing a space for john to walk out the door. reluctantly, he leaves, but not before sparing you another glance and whispering a “call me.”

when he’s finally left the room, you exhale, glancing back to bucky and his tense shoulders. 

“thank you… for that.”

he blinks. his eyes finally find you and he blinks away the tension. 

“of course. you shouldn’t have to put up with that, especially in your place of work.”

you nod and a shy smile takes over your face. you move a strand of hair to behind your ear and turn back to the machine so bucky doesn’t notice your face. he does anyway.

“so, lunch?”

═══════════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════════

saturday evening rolls around and, after having double checked with tony and natasha about the validity of your invitation, you get dressed for the gala. the dress fits your form and drapes down to just below your knees. you pair it with a simple pair of heels and your favorite necklace. 

you hope bucky likes it.

stop. that’s inappropriate. we’re work colleagues. he would’ve helped out any girl that needed it, he-

oh fuck.

you notice him immediately. he’s sat at the bar talking to steve, legs draped off the bar seat, thighs thick even in his dress pants. his long hair is neatly swept back, and the glass of bourbon in his metal hand clinks from the ice. 

natasha spots you first. she was just by the entrance, and she immediately greets you.

“how are you?”

you smile at her, happy to be with her after having not had the chance lately. “good, busy in the lab as always.”

she chuckles understandingly. “seems like tony has everyone working overtime.”

she goes on about one thing or another, but at some point you tune her out because bucky has finally noticed you. you can tell he’s tuned steve out too. 

he can’t stop staring. granted, he always stares at everyone, but the way he looks at you differs from that so much. it has your knees weak and you can feel your heart pound a little harder in your chest. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and the faintest smirk appears on his face.

steve turns around to see what his best friend is staring at. noticing you, he leans his head back at the sudden enlightenment and faces bucky. he speaks lowly, “why don’t you ask her out?”

bucky jerks his head towards steve. “what?” he’s defensive at having just been caught. “why would i do that?”

steve rolls his eyes. “because visiting her office everyday is totally normal…” his tone is laced with sarcasm.

you’ve been spending too much time with sam.

“shut up.”

“so you don’t like her, then?”

“i-” bucky huffs. “i never said that.”

“well, i’d act fast.”

his brows furrow. “Why?”

steve points towards you and bucky’s gaze shifts from his best friend to you. there, john walker attempts to offer you a drink, and bucky can tell even from his distant spot at the bar that you’re smiling to be polite.

he doesn’t reply to steve, abandoning his drink and his friend at the bar as he makes his way over to you. 

“can i help you?”

john has to turn to look at bucky, his smile dropping. you can tell he’s aggravated by the presence of the former winter soldier.

“no, i think we’re good.” he doesn’t even attempt to make his smile look genuine.

“i don’t think we are.” bucky steps closer to you. his head dips down, lips close to your ear as he speaks in a low whisper. “you okay, peaches?”

you smile, giddy at the sudden pet name. you nod gently, grateful for bucky’s care, and try not to bite your lip from the interaction. 

“why don’t you go somewhere else?” bucky’s gentle tone is replaced with a stoic one, his annoyance for john returning.

“why can’t i just talk to the girl?” he looks at you expecting your defense.

bucky’s left hand wraps around your waist. his fingers rub your side softly, gracing your hip. your stomach flips in a fit of butterflies. the sudden act of affection has your knees buckling. you want him to pull you closer in case you collapse.

“she’s not interested.” 

john’s eyes widen slightly and he backs away, muttering something under his breath. you feel bucky’s metal fingers squeeze your side slightly. he turns to look at you. 

“i’m sorry about him.”

you can barely hold eye contact. “it’s not your fault.” a sudden boost in courage has you pulling your hand up to smooth out the lapel of his suit. “besides, you’re my hero.”

his eyes flicker with appreciation at having been called that. “yeah?”

you hum in agreement. his other hand reaches towards your face, tracing the hair that sits behind your ear, pinned up in the updo you’ve done for the gala. another stomach flip.

“in that case, does your hero get any reward?” he has a playful smirk, his tone light.

“i suppose…” you smile back. “got anything in mind?”

he pulls you until you're facing him directly. his other hand sits at your waist, too. now you can’t look away, forced to look into his eyes as he undresses you with them. he hums as if the answer sits on his tongue. his metal hand pulls you forward, forcing you to take a step closer to him. his flesh hand moves from your waist to your cheek, nose brushing against yours, delicate, like a dance. his breath fans against your face and your eyelids flutter shut. you exhale, a bundle of nerves leaving too.

his lips ghost against yours, waiting to see if you’d pull back or say you’re crossing a line. you don’t dare stop him. you feel his lips curve slightly; he’s smirking against you. before it grows anymore, his lips connect with yours, warm and supple and tender. he kisses you like every second is a promise, like he wants the world to know you’ll never be anyone else’s.

and now, you know it’s a promise he’ll never break. 

[backtothefanfiction]

First Impressions | Joaquin Torres

Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin

Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter

A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.

Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.

“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.

“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.

“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.

“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.

That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.

“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.

“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”

You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.

“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.

He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.

“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.

“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”

“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.

“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.

“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.

“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.

“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.

“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.

“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”

Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.

“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.

“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”

“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.

“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.

“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.

“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.

“What, now?” You said confused.

“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.

“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.

“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.

“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.

“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.

“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.

Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”

Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.

“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.

“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.

“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”

[katszumi]

“have you seen the abs on that man?” hagakure sat across of you. “sexy on a stick, i swear!” she giggles. she was going on and on about the guy that starred in the superman movie you girls put on last night. henry cavill was his name.

mina agrees with her statement with a nod. “he’s the hottest white man i’ve ever seen before.”

“sure, he was hot, but are we forgetting the misogynist comments he’s made? sexy is one thing, but being controversial is a whole ‘nother thing.” uraraka inserted her input.

“oh, please. i’d cook and clean for him anyday he asks.” mina retorted. both uraraka and yaoyorozu shake their head in shame.

“speaking of controversial.” uraraka murmurs under her breath, you peer over your shoulder, wondering the intent of her statement.

you notice bakugou making his way over to your desk, his eyes planted on you and you only. you shift uncomfortably. why the hell would he be coming to you? did you do something?

once he makes his way to your desk, you look up at him with a half smile.

“hey, bakugou. what’s up?”

his eyes analyze the other girls before looking back down on you.

“my pencil?”

you flutter your lashes at him. “pencil..?” you repeated in a trance of confusion.

he groans. “the fuckin’ pencil i gave you last week. i need it back.”

now it all clicks. you nod, laughing nervously because of your stupidity. you reach in your backpack and grab the black mechanical pencil that you forgot to lend back to bakugou.

your arm extends to the male in front of you, waiting for him to snatch it back.

“sorry.”

he gently grasped onto the pencil, his hand brushing against your fingers for a small moment.

“it’s whatever. just rather not be the one to find you after i lent you something.” he shoved the pencil in his pants pockets, leaving his hands in there. “that’s one of the last pencils i have.”

you shoot your eyebrows up in defense, quickly lowering them after. your eyes falling down to your desk for comfort.

“well, hope you take care of that one.” it was a half-joke. a lame one, might you add. you were just unsure on what to say. especially since it seemed like bakugou was lingering around your desk. as if he didn’t want to return to his seat just yet.

“so, what’d you score on your test?”

“ah…it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t horrible.”

“well?” was he really desperate to know that bad? you knew bakugou was smart, so he probably only wanted to know so it could boost his ego.

you rubbed your arm out of shame. “a seventy-nine.” you stared at his face to recognize any humility or laughter, but there was none.

he shrugged. “should’ve asked for my help if you needed it.”

right. you almost forgot that bakugou offered to help you study and go over notes with him for the next test. it was such an out-of-bakugou thing to do that you nearly didn’t take him serious.

you nodded slowly, processing his information.

“i was planning on making it up, so maybe for that.”

“fine.” his short one-worded response was dull. but what else did you really expect? “next time, don’t steal my pencil.” was his last comment before leaving your presence.

you sat in your thoughts, reeling the conversation back in your mind. what the hell just happened? it was the most simple yet confusing conversation you’ve ever had. was bakugou joking with you or was he seriously irritated with the pencil situation?

regardless, you made a mental note that bakugou was very protective over his mechanical pencils.

once bakugou returned to his seat, he unzipped his backpack, secretly opening his pencil box. within the box were a collection of pencils. there were so many pencils that he could give one to all of class 1a and 1b and still have few left.

aside sat denki who was clearly peeking inside of bakugou’s bag.

“damn, bakubro. you saving up pencils for a potential pencil outage or something?” it’s denki. of course, he never used his inside voice.

“i will literally blow you out this fuckin’ window and across the lot.” bakugou turns his head immediately, a faint pink blush spreading across the apples of his cheek.

bakugou just didn’t want you to know that the pencil was obviously an excuse to talk to you.

pt 2 of the study sesh

[karinamariee]

celibate

pairing: drew starkey x fiancé!fem!reader

summary: you’re as innocent as it gets, promising celibacy. but when your boyfriend drew comes into your life, you can’t help but yearn for him.

warnings: smut w plot, mdni!!

authors note: this is my 100 follower special, plus it is such a hot idea, i love it

—————————————————————————

drew first was admired by you when you stepped in one of his acting classes, taking him by surprise. it wasn’t your face (though it was beautiful) or your body (which made him instantly hard), it was the fact that you walked into the acting classes, dressed in all pink, and you walked into there with such kindness and respect that drew immediately needed you.

it took drew months to get you to go on one date with him, it was actually fucking with his pride, but he didn’t give up. eventually, you ended up going on a romantic date with him where he brought flowers and your favorite (though you never told him, he just assumed) chocolates. how could you say no to that?

but oh, when drew kissed you for the first time, he knew he wanted forever with you. he knew he wanted to get married, to have children, to grow old together. he wanted every single flaw, insecurity, fear and pain, and he would take that and throw it all into his heart.

he had just wanted all of you.

so he asked you any question under the sun like: “what’s your favorite color?” in which you answered pink. “who’s your favorite music artist?” in which you said gracie abrams. “what’s your favorite thing about yourself?” eyes. “why do you wear pink all the time.” i love wearing pink. all those questions were answered, and he immediately knew, you knew how to not be shy, being as open as your are.

by the time three months hit, he got down on both his knees, arms wrapped around your torso, cheek on your belly, your hands in his hair, and telling you how much he loved you. your response had been what he needed: you loved him too.

by ten months, you had been able to sit in silence, enjoying each others company.

by one year and a half, you two both officially moved in with each other, finally planning your life together.

by two years and three months, he proposed to you in which your answer was yes.

everything seemed perfect, but one thing kept on flashing in drew’s mind, and oh did he feel so dirty. he always wonder what it would be like to see you naked, bent over the kitchen counter, fucking you from behind as you moaned his name. so when he did think of those thoughts, he would shake his head.

“are you a virgin, y/n?” drew got the courage to ask one night.

you turned to him, closing your clothes drawer, and you walked to him, standing on your side of the bed.

“oh,” you said, “i guess i never told you this. im celibate, which means—“

drew quickly crawled over to your side, grabbing your waist, resting his head on your belly. “i know what it means, babe. it was just a question.”

but it got harder and harder for him, having seeing you in those mini skirts and dresses, seeing you in heels, seeing you change, seeing you do anything turned him on so much he had to jerk himself off in the bathroom.

but little did he know, it was hard for you too.

—————————————————————————

“please,” you whispered, “make sure to go slow. i’ve never done this before.”

drew snorted. “don’t worry, baby. you’re gonna have the best time with this.”

you nodded as drew took his cock out of his underwear, throwing them to the side. you looked down and audibly gasped.

“it’ll fit,” said drew, “trust me.”

he slide himself inside of you very slowly. going inch by inch, listening to when you told him to go. eventually he started thrusting slowly in and out of you. you got into the rhythm of it, moaning when he was at a perfect pace.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good around my cock.”

you moaned loudly at that, pulling him closer by his buttocks. you couldn’t get rid of this feeling he was giving you. he was so good at this, so good that he threw his head back, going faster, but not that much.

“faster,” you demanded.

“fuck.”

he quickened the pace, hitting that spot that made your toes curl, your head throwing back into the pillows. you had never felt a feeling like this before.

“drew…”

“fuck i’m close.” drew said.

you moaned loudly, scratching on his back as he quickened the pace, on a mission. he repeated himself over and over again and you started whining, tears falling down your cheeks.

you came all over his cock, toes curling, never feeling like this.

“i guess you’re not celibate anymore,” said drew later that night.

you laughed, turning to him. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[avalilsbfss]

F1 drivers as dads - text stories

Drivers: Lewis Hamilton, lando Norris, Oscar piastri, max verstapan, Charles leclerc, Carlos sainz.

Summery: f1 divers as dads

Pairing: drivers x reader

Warnings: none, fluff, suggestive things

Master list

GIVE ME SUGESTIONS FOR MORE!!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

a/n : BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

[generalsdiary]

Sunday mannerisms I noticed during the 2.7 livestream

when he finds something funny or amusing but doesn't laugh out loud - his right wing twitches

when he is happy or joyous - his left wing twitches

when he is flustered, shy or laughing out loud - both wings twitch

[cregansdingdong]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, p-in-v penetration, outdoor sex(does a tent still count as outdoor?), swearing, Cregan has a breeding kink, semi-public?, slight brat taming, classic doggy style, ass slapping, f!receiving oral, Cregan’s gonna eat her out from the back which is truly the highlight here; so. this has been festering in my drafts for well over two months. Good luck. poison ivy by hemi moore

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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“Are you going to explain yourself or do I have to ask why you’re speaking to me that way in front of my men?”

“In what way?” She murmurs, snappily adjusting the furs beneath her, staring above at the roof of their tent. Cregan watched in partial disbelief—and partial irritation—at the sight of his wife going to bed despite their disagreement. It wasn’t often that they argued, and especially not on account of her publicly disrespecting him. The Hunt was meant to celebrate the unity of the North, among other things, and yet she’d been cold to him most of the late afternoon and early evening. They were meant to be setting an example. He couldn’t understand what he’d done to agitate her in the first place. “I’m not going to play this game with you.” Cregan huffs, setting down his cloak on the back of a chair. “Why have you been so cross with me today of all days?”

“I haven’t.” She counters smartly, tone filled with an attitude he wanted nothing more than to fuck out of her. “You’re being childish.” He grunts right back, earning a glare from his cross little wife. If he hadn’t been so ticked off, he might’ve actually laughed at the way her eyes narrowed in his direction—like a pup about to pounce. “I’m not a child.” She snaps, turning to adjust her pillow as he removes his boots. He snorts at that. “You’re behaving like one. Now are you going to resume your wifely duties and speak to me or must I tuck you in and read you a story?” He could’ve done without the mocking, but both their tempers had risen by that point, overspilling and soaking their marriage bed like a tempest.

She ignored him completely, reaching to blow out the candle at her bedside, rolling over to face the wall of the tent, linens and furs pulled up to her chin. As much as he was irritated with her refusal to communicate, he wasn’t going to sulk until she decided to give him the mercy of her words. Cregan continued to undress down to his small clothes, joining her under the covers despite their mutual fuming. It was an agreement they’d reached at the beginning of their marriage: angry or not, their bed was shared. Non-negotiable. He was especially thankful for that condition now—the ground did not look very comfortable if she’d decided to banish him like a hound. He faced her back, arm thrown haphazardly over her middle. Admittedly, he needed to feel her there to get a proper night’s rest. She allowed it.

The tension had seeped into their tent, clearly choosing to remain even with the terms of bedtime they’d set in place. She was still angry, he was still puzzled. Even with her back against him, Cregan could still sense her irritation. It hung in the air like a dark cloud, refusing to disperse. He’d never thought being married would sometimes feel like a storm in his own home. But the Wolf of the North was not a man to back down from a challenge. And it was becoming clear to him that his wife wouldn’t talk unless he spoke first. So he does. "You can’t keep behaving this way,” He starts, his voice gravelly but low. There's about a minute of tense silence between them before her attitude-filled reply breaks the quiet of their tent. “And why not?”

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he shifts in the bed, arm still loosely wrapped around her waist. “Firstly you’re my wife. Secondly, the hunt was meant to celebrate the North. And thirdly…” His voice trails off, his jaw clenching. He’d already said too much for his liking. Cregan was never one to give too much away, and giving an explanation for his emotions had never been a strength of his. But with her…there was a part that he couldn’t help but be honest with her. She wouldn't judge him even on his worst days. “Because I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.” His words were heavy with sincerity, which only irritated him more. The Wolf of the North was not supposed to feel so exposed to his little dragon wife’s moods.

For a moment, he thinks he's gotten through to his stubborn wife. "...we can discuss it tomorrow. I want to sleep." She grumbles into the dark. “You want to ignore it tomorrow, you mean,” He retorts, arm still refusing to remove itself from her waist despite the rejection. Cregan lets the argument drop for now, however. But only because he can tell for himself that she's not going to give way to his stubborn badgering that night. He grunts in annoyance, shifting so that his chin rests on her shoulder. “Unbelievable.” He mutters to himself. Angry or not, though, they were going to cuddle. It’s the smell of her hair that pulls him into a steady rest, his chest pressing against her back, his arm still slung over her middle like a claim. For some reason, even in his sleep, he still needs to feel her near him; a possession of the body and mind. The two of them adjust a little, the usual marital squirming in order to get comfortable. Peace even in the chaos of their argument.

On the other hand, his wife could not find sleep even if she had a map. With him snoring lightly behind her—something that always put her to sleep—both irritation and guilt chewed away at her reserve, leaving her restless. It persists. An hour passes, then two, and still, Lady Stark was wide awake, bothered and guilty. The snoring continues through the night, the Northern Lord blissfully unaware of her warring emotions. But even unconscious, he could sense the battle for sleep. The Wolf of the North stirred beside her, his arm now fully thrown over her torso, hand resting against her ribs. Cregan was in no way a light sleeper, but as her frustration grew, he seemed to be silently disturbed from his sleep. His eyes flutter open with a tired hum, his chin buried in the warmth of his wife still. He’s quiet for a few long moments before mumbling in a groggy voice, thick and raspy. “You’re still awake.”

“I can't sleep.” She mutters. It's clear that the heat of their argument had ceased to a smolder in the while she had reflected into the dark. "Probably because I'm still upset." She sighs. "And I'm a little cold...and..” As she speaks, his initial tiredness starts to clear. “And?” He prompts, shifting again to lift his head in the slightest.  His hand rubs against her stomach, trying to share any semblance of his warmth with her. “...I feel…worked up. I'm annoyed but…roused.” It's laced with a begrudging admittance and Cregan opens his eyes in disbelief, suddenly more awake at her mumbled words. A rush of heat rolls through his body, his heart skipping a beat. It always does. The thought alone never failed to stop him in his tracks. His hand stills against her stomach for a moment, considering how to respond. “Well, my love, it sounds like you've had enough of keeping your anger a secret. You can tell me no matter what. Even if it's childish and silly. I'm your husband.”

"You didn't eat breakfast with me this morning." She blurts, finally revealing what had made her so irritated all day. "You gave me a kiss and then you just ran off to eat with Torrhen Manderly. Didn't even invite me.” He pauses in his caresses, a low hum leaving his chest. “That’s what caused your little temper tantrum?” He murmurs, tone still somewhat drowsy but now a bit exasperated. Affectionately, of course. He can’t fight the small smile that’s formed on his lips. A temper tantrum over him eating with the second son of the Lord of White Harbor and not inviting his sweet wife. It was such a small thing, but for some reason, it makes his chest feel tight. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in a morning meeting with House Manderly,” he mumbles in response, pulling her closer, his hand once again tracing patterns across her waist.

"I'm not, but I'm interested in sitting with you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch even more at that. A quiet huff of a chuckle leaves his lips, and he moves his chin to rest on her shoulder, warm breath lightly fanning on her jaw. “So I’m to invite you to every little meeting I have now?” He murmurs, teasing and still somehow half-drowsy. There's a very light dusting of indignation in her tone as she answers. "...not all of them, I'd be bored to death." She huffs. "But today was about unity. I didn't feel very unified with you.” He grumbles under his breath in mild disagreement. The Hunt wasn’t all about unity, it was about celebration. Of the North and of the Starks. Unity amongst the Northmen was an important facet of the feast, but it was not the entire point. But he didn’t want to argue about that, especially not when she was still so irritable with him. “You should’ve just come by and sat yourself down then. Torrhen would've liked your company, and of course I had no problems with having my beautiful wife beside me.”

"And intrude? That's embarrassing." He could hear her pout from a mile out, at least. Cregan’s chest vibrates against her back with a low laugh. “And throwing a little fit all day isn’t embarrassing?” He muses, nipping at her shoulder. "...it's more dignified than begging.” She grumbles. One of his hands suddenly moves from her stomach and up to her jaw. In almost an instant, his wife was putty in his grasp once more. He turns her head, pressing a kiss against the corner of her mouth, his tongue suddenly swiping over the skin—almost like he needed a taste of her. A low, gravelly murmur leaves his chest. “There’s no part of you that has to beg for my attention. But I’m not sure it’s dignified to pout all day over me having a morning meeting, my sweet Lady Wife.”

Before she could say something smart in return, Cregan dips his face into her neck, unable to stop himself from taking a greedy bite. She makes a small noise from the back of her throat—a mewl that sends the sleep far, far away from his thoughts. He smiles against her skin when he feels her tilt her head for more. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” He teases, taking advantage of her movement to press another open-mouthed kiss against her neck. “Pouting all day for my attention, and here you are, melting at it now.” In the quiet of the tent, he can hear the low, shaky exhale release past her lips. “I'm sorry…for being impolite to you with your men present.”

“An apology?” His voice holds his amusement, and he continues his trail of kisses up her neck, until his lips are hovering right next to her ear. “Now that is a new one. I’m sure some snow from beyond the Wall will start falling within the hour if you’re apologizing to me. Not something you make a habit of doing, my sweet wife.” He felt her smile just a little, and he mentally counted down for whatever joke she was about to tell him. “At this rate, I'm sure Winter is fleeing.” His nose brushes up against the skin behind her ear, and he lets out a barely stifled laugh. “That’s blasphemous to say in the North…but funny.” He pushes himself up on his forearms above her, looking down, eyes suddenly filled with barely contained heat—as was his usual disposition. "Still annoyed and roused?”

"Not annoyed. Just worked up." She murmurs, tracing the outline of his shoulders in the dark. He hums in acknowledgment, stomach warming at her confirmation. “You want me to tire you out? Make up for this morning?” His voice is still thick and gravelly, a testament of his deep sleep and the hunger that now had him captivated. Her response came out in a quiet ‘mmhm’, reaching for him through the dark. In one swift movement, Cregan flips her onto her stomach, chuckling at the noise of surprise she releases. Furs and linens thrown back, his hands glide over the skin of her thighs, gently raising the hem of her delicate shift. It was a slow, deliberate action, and he didn’t need to see her face to know how much she was anticipating his touch. As her nightgown rose over the curve of her ass, he could feel the goosebumps forming beneath his palms. “Arse up, face down.”

She shivered at the command. Simple, yet drowning her in want. How could she ever deny her Wolf of the North? With a near-silent grunt of effort, she raises herself on her knees, lowering her upper-half down onto the pillows. The hem of her shift pools at her mid back, exposing herself to her husband just the way he loved it. “Perfect.” He murmurs, his hands gripping the flesh of her ass like he couldn’t wait to take a bite out of her. “Look at you. Fighting me all day, and yet here you are. All but begging for me to unspool you. I should make you beg, but you’re quite lucky I don’t have the patience, wife.” Just as she thinks she’s going to feel his hot tongue, a hand comes barreling down on her rear, a loud, searing spank that was probably heard from the next tent over. Her gasp was barely stifled into the pillow.

His tongue dipped slowly between her folds, a measured pace that nearly made her lose her breath. He always knew how she wanted it. Back and forth, savoring her like her juicy cunt was his last meal in the living world. With every languid stroke forward, the tip of his tongue nudged her twitching pearl in a toe-curling rhythm. Her noises only urged him on further. He slurped up her slick like a man starved, wordlessly encouraging her movements as she rocked back against his tongue. Eyes shut, face contorted in bliss, he could only picture what she looked like in his mind’s eye. He was too preoccupied with his meal to bother to light any candles. Not that he needed them, anyway. He knew her body as if they shared a soul. His wife was unable to piece together a single word, reduced to a puddle of whines and squirms.

“All day.” He reiterates. “Talking back to me. I accept your apology, but that does not mean you’re entirely free of the consequences, pup.” And then, another. Harder than the last, and most certainly stinging. Another. Another. He was merciful enough to distribute his spanks evenly, and with every bloom of hot pain, she felt herself grow more and more eager for a release. “Please–” She mewled, on the verge of patheticism. A sixth sear spreads over her left asscheek. The rest of her plea remains locked in her throat. “I’ve had enough of your pretty mouth speaking against me.” He murmurs into the dark, hands massaging the hot skin with an air of tenderness. “Understand?” Head spinning with lust, she can barely form a coherent word. “..Y-yes.” That seemed to moderately satisfy him, and Cregan finally leaned his face down, spreading her for his pleasure.

“I’ll never tire of your sweet taste.” He rumbled against her, fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass like he was afraid she’d run off. Not that she ever would, but the feeling of her in his hands was grounding—a reminder of who he was and where he was between every dive of his tongue. He was drowning in the tang of her. Every lap of his tongue drove her an inch closer to her peak. “Cregan—Cregan, I can’t.” She cried, on the verge of desperation. If he’d had her sitting on his face instead, it would’ve been much easier to keep her from wiggling, but she couldn’t help herself not to writhe against his mouth and nose. And frankly, he was too hungry to separate himself from her for even a moment in order to change position. No. Not even a snippet of patience. He needed her to release.

“Yes, you can.” Cregan grunts against her soaked cunt, although it was less than coherent—something about the idea of getting caught made him eager to please. With all the pretty noises she was making for him, he couldn’t bring himself to attempt to quiet her. Not that it mattered. He doubted anyone would dare interrupt the Lord Paramount of the North and his Lady wife. And yet, someone walking by? Hearing the private way she cried out for her husband? Thrilling in every sense of the word. The thought alone made his blood pump, and his teeth lightly nip at her sweet pearl. More like a graze, really, but her reaction seemed otherwise. She squeals into her pillow, a throaty, rabid sound that nearly makes him peak. She was coming. And he had the absolute pleasure of lapping up all her delicious juices right from the source.

He couldn't make himself wait any longer after that. Cregan pawed at his small clothes until he was entirely bare behind her, feeling his beautiful wife tremble as he aligned his twitching cock. There was no other sensation in the living world that mattered to him more than the way her walls stretched to accommodate his size. Absolute perfection. Nothing but bliss. A noise of pleasure rumbled from his throat as he sunk into her soaked cunt. Inch by murderous inch, the Wolf of the North felt his sense of reality fade into the background. Much like an animal focused on dragging their kill home, Cregan was fixated on drowning himself inside her to the hilt. No matter how many times he'd experienced that exact sensation, he would never tire of his perfect Lady wife. Not even if she'd throw a tantrum every day for the duration of their marriage—so long as he got to kiss her goodmorning and fuck her goodnight.

“There we go…” He grunts, laying himself over her back as he eased his tip deep inside. Pulling out and back again was a torturous, toe-curling feeling, but the little mewls she whined into the pillows made it worth every teasing drag of his hips. “This is how it should be.” Cregan pants, his nose pressed against the back of her neck. “You, enjoying your fulfilled cravings, and me, balls-deep inside my woman. I hate fighting with you—but I love fucking that attitude right out.” Her thighs trembled as he rutted into her ass, an incessant, fervent type of rhythm that only came out when she truly frustrated him. And she certainly had; all day long, in fact. But his vixen of a wife couldn't bring herself to regret a thing. She knew what she was going to do in the next Great Hunt.

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[bunnis-monsters]

You get sick, and your two vampire boyfriends who haven’t been humans in centuries are scrambling around trying to figure out how to help you feel better.

“Should we drink from her? Bloodletting was a popular method of curing the ill in my time.”

Your other boyfriend blinked at the first incredulously. “Are you stupid? Hasn’t that been disproven for years now?”

“It was supposed to get the bad blood out! What if we’ve contaminated her with our depravity and now her human soul is in peril!?”

“She’s sneezing, not shriveling into a pile of dust.”

You are too amused to help them at first, watching as they fret over you and place their cool hands on your head, but soon you need some food and medicine to keep yourself from getting anymore ill.

“Just… some soup and Tylenol… that’s all I need…”

As quick as possible, they prepare you a bowl of (questionable) soup. It’s edible enough, and the Tylenol helps with your fever.

As you finally drift off, your lovers curl up with you, watching you as you sleep. They cling to your chubby form, using your low fever to warm themselves, and their cool bodies to keep your from getting too hot.

They have much researching to do, never wanting to be clueless about your needs again.

———————

SFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96-blog @bubblez-blop