#hiccupy

[wigglywormy]

Once again thinking about bakugou being tickled so hard he cries

[dannystheone]

Hope it's okay to send this when your requests are closed, I just read your tickling isn't goth fic and my God that was so cute 🥺 is there any chance we could get a fic of Michael messing around with Pete only for Pete to remember Michael admitted he's ticklish so he retaliates?

Yes absolutely! So um I know what I said but

lol I had an idea I'M THE WORST

I've actually had this idea before but I wanted to wait until I could articulate it properly if that makes sense

I hope you enjoy :0

WARNINGS: cursing! mentions of satan and other imagery. also a lot of band references so if it's confusing I'm sorry lol

I'm More Goth Than YOU! (Lee Micheal/ Ler Pete)

This takes place during the 'Basic Cable' episode (Season 23 Episode 9). After finding out that Micheal has already talked to the new girl Sophie, Pete finds himself wanting to discuss a few things with his friend...

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"-So we just sat around and listened to Bauhaus when System of a Down came on after that. I was like, what the fuck am I listening to, you know. And they skipped the song like when it came on and it switched to another goth band but that's when I knew they were just another poser." Micheal rambled Pete's ear off while they were watching a scary movie together.

Pete was at Micheal's house as it was the start of the weekend and October, so naturally they had to kick it off right. However, watching scary movies was a year-round activity, so tonight was a bit basic by their standards. The movie of choice was Hereditary, but they've seen it so many times that they could talk and watch at the same time and not miss any beats.

Pete was zoning out if he were being honest. He had his mind set on a girl he had talked to earlier that day. Sophie Gray. She was really pretty and she seemed really cool, not unlike anyone else that went to their school. Even though she was new and Pete didn't really know her yet, he could tell that she was different. Pete laid his cheek on his fist while he thoughtlessly said the first thing that came to mind.

"I don't mind System of a Down if I'm in the right mood," Pete said honestly. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of disgust. Pete was laying on his side on the couch with his left leg bent at the knee and his right leg laid over Micheal's thigh. Micheal pushed Pete's leg off of him and crossed his arms with a sneer on his face.

"God, that's how I know you're a fucking poser," Micheal growled. That got Pete's attention. Pete looked up from the television and set his jaw in anger.

"What did you say?" Pete asked, testing Micheal. There was no way his friend would utter something like that again to his face.

"I'm just saying that no real child of darkness would be listening to something so mainstream. I've heard cheerleaders listen to Chop Suey before." Micheal said with venom in his tone.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you know a single song from the band anyway? You're a hypocrite, Micheal. Op- foreshadowing." Pete pointed to the TV where a hidden Easter egg was shown in the movie.

"Nice catch." Micheal relaxed after that. Micheal allowed Pete to put his leg back up to rest on his thigh so it wasn't hanging off the couch. It seemed like Micheal didn't want to be caught being a poser or a conformist in any way, shape, or form. Pete wondered why that was.

"So uh... that new girl at school. Sophie Gray? Talk to her yet?" Pete tested the waters with Micheal. Sophie had revealed that Micheal had already spoken to her before Pete had, and Gods knows what Micheal was saying about the people at the school. To save his own skin, Pete threw Micheal under the bus and called him a total poser. Because let's face it, no one was more goth than Pete was.

Micheal perked up at her name. "Yeah, she's pretty cool. I offered to show her around campus sometime and she started talking about Skinny Puppy. Can you believe it? She's not a conformist dickhole like every other new kid in South Park." Micheal carded his fingers through his curly hair while Pete stared back at the TV.

"Well, too bad she already accepted my invitation to show her around the school. She even said she wanted to talk later. Guess she's only into real goths." Pete was poking the bear on that one. Micheal turned to Pete with a look of thinly veiled shock.

"What? You talked to her? No way." He asked. Pete shrugged nonchalantly with a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah. She said she's not into posers. Her words." Micheal furrowed his brows at Pete's words.

"Well, I'm not a poser!" Micheal said defensively. Pete's smile only grew as he looked over his shoulder to meet Micheal's eyes.

"Then why would she say something like that? She said she doesn't like guys who try too hard." Pete's smile could be heard in his voice. Michael gave Pete an incredulous look and grabbed onto Pete's calve resting on his thigh.

"Did she actually say that Pete?" Micheal asked. Pete threw up his shoulders and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Are... Are you lying? Pete. Answer me." Pete kept a smug little grin on his face when he felt a hand squeezing the in-between spot of his knee and his thigh. Pete let out a shocked cry as he shook off the hand.

"Ah-hah! What are you doing creeper?!" Pete yelled, fighting to take his leg back. Micheal held onto his leg in a tight grip as he defended himself.

"I want you to answer me about Sophie Gray, dork! I'm not doing this 'cause I like it! Are you lying about what you said?" Micheal pressed.

Now one thing about Pete: He was a TERRIBLE liar. He could make stuff up on the spot about a story that was already established, but coming up with stuff out of thin air under pressure? He began to stutter and jerk his leg in Micheal's grip.

"I- I don't know! It's just what she said! Why do you-" Pete and Micheal both looked at the TV at the same time. The main character had passed by another Easter egg.

"Foreshadowing." They said at the same time.

They turned back to look at each other one more time before Micheal squished the inner part of Pete's knee, creeping into his inner thigh. Pete gave an inward squeak as he began giggling and kicking his leg.

"M-Mihihicheal! Stohohop! You're a weheheirdo!" Pete struggled and snickered while squirming all over Micheal's couch. Micheal hadn't heard Pete's ticklish laugh, or any laugh for that matter, since the tickling ritual at Henrietta's place a few months back. They don't really talk about that day, and for good reason.

"What, are you gonna call me a creep next? You're so mainstream it hurts, Pete. I don't know why Sophie would choose you to hang out with. If she should be hanging out with any goth at the school it should definitely be me." Micheal admitted. Pete managed an eye-roll in the midst of his tickle attack which Micheal definitely caught.

"Sounds like you're je-hehealous! Get off mehehe!" Pete snickered with Micheal grabbing both his lower thighs and squishing into the muscle. Through sheer luck (and some determination) Pete managed to sit up in a different position on the couch and grabbed Micheal by his jacket. Their small tussle took them to the floor of the living room in a bundle of pillows and blankets.

Pete thrust a hand out while blind in the flurry of objects surrounding them and just started to squish his hand over and over. Pete didn't really know why he shot his arm out to retaliate, but something in the back of his mind told him it would work.

His intuition seemed to be right as he felt the random body part he had grabbed start to shake with laughter. Pete forced himself out of the small blanket fort that had fallen on top of them and kept squeezing the body part he had in his hand.

He had Micheal's ribs in his grip, which he held onto for dear life. Satan, Micheal was a squirmer. It was like he was being electrocuted.

"Call me mainstream again, Micheal. Do it. I dare y-" Pete egged on Micheal, but he had never seen this expression on his face before. Micheal's eyes were screwed shut as he laughed out from the small amount of squeezes Pete was administering. Had Pete landed on his death spot by accident?

"Pehehete! Gehehe- *hick!* Gehehehet ohohoff- *hick!* ahahasshole! *hick!*" The sound of Micheal's hiccupy laughter filled the living room. Pete was dumbfounded. He had no idea how to react rather than to keep squeezing. Pete shoved both his hands on either side of Micheal's ribcage and scribbled his fingers into Micheal's bony frame. Micheal burst out into a fresh peal of laughter as he tried tucking his knees into his chest for protection.

"I'm gonna put you in your grave for calling me a poser, Micheal. I should record this and show it to Sophie to prove to her that you're just a ticklish conformist. I bet she'd get a real laugh out of that one. What do you think?" Pete was sure talking big words for someone who was ticklish himself. Micheal could do nothing as his head lay on the carpeted floor and laughed out.

Micheal tried fighting Pete's hands back, but that just raised his arm up and out of the way. Pete took the opportunity and shoved his hand into Micheal's armpit and simply moved his fingers in the space before Micheal snorted and squirmed underneath his friend.

"Gohohohod! Yohohohou- *hick!* yohohohou suhuhuhuhuck! *hick!* Screhehehew ohohohohoff! *hick!*" Despite his words, Pete had it hard taking Micheal seriously, seeing as he had a huge grin on his face and giggled out all of his threatening words. It didn't deter Pete of course, he's heard this all before.

"What did you say? You said I suck? You calling me a vamp kid now, Micheal?" Pete tossed his hair out of his eyes just as Micheal had managed to flip himself onto his belly and started clawing himself away from the situation. Pete launched into action as he grabbed his friend's right arm and barred it into his back.

"L-Let go of me! Sophie Gray knows I'm more goth than you, conformist! This is pointless!" Micheal shouted. Pete let out a disgusted groan as he jammed his fingers into Micheal's side, just underneath his lowest rib. If Pete thought he found Micheal's death spot before, he was dead wrong. Micheal immediately started fighting him and trying to hold back his immense giggles.

"Stahahahap! *hick!* Yohohou're fuhuhucking lahahame- *hick!* Pehehehete!" Micheal's face buried into the carpet of the living room while his shoulders jumped with laughter. Pete was a little shocked for words at how well he was taking control of the situation.

"Oh yeah, I'm lame, Micheal? I'm not the one laughing like a preppy straight-A cheerleader right now. If only Sophie were here, she could see how much of a princess you actually are." Pete had no idea where these fighting words were coming from, especially directed at someone who's always been more commonly revered among the goths AND older than him. Micheal struggled at that last remark but crumbled when he felt Pete finding the divet in his side. That was the spot right there.

"Fuhuhuhuck ohohohohoff! Yohohou- *hick!* Yohohohou're thehehe wohohohohorst! *hick!* Micheal tried lying on the side that was being tickled and swung with his free arm, but Pete was quick to grab the arm and stuff it by the other one and kept both his wrists behind his back in a vice grip. Now Pete alternated between tickling one side and switching to the other randomly.

That was cause for disaster. The randomness of the tickles in Micheal's worst spot kept him laughing as his brain was surprised at every turn where Pete would strike next. Not to mention with his increased laughter, his hiccups increased as well.

Pete could feel Micheal's legs bending at the knee and shooting out behind him over and over again as he sat on his hips. He felt all of his struggling underneath him, but his laugh was what intrigued him most. It was hiccupy yes but it was deeper than his speaking voice, and it had the same rasp to it. It would be more of a romantic laugh if it wasn't infested by those goofy hiccups.

"How much more of this do you wanna take, Micheal? You know what you have to say to get out of this. You have to say you're sorry for calling me a poser, you have to say I'm more goth than you, and you have to say Sophie Gray would prefer me over you showing her around the school cause you're a goddamn dorky ticklish conformist." Pete laid all this out while Micheal immediately started shaking his head.

"Nohohoho wahahahay!! I cahahahan't! *hick!* Ihihihihit's- *hick!* Ihihihihit's toohohohoo muhuhuhuch! *hick!*" Micheal's voice was getting weaker, maybe since he'd gotten tickled a lot longer than Pete was tickled just a moment ago. Pete decided to give Micheal a little boost. Pete let go of Micheal's hands behind his back just for Pete to grab both of his sides and scratch his blunt nails through the thin material of his blouse. Micheal let out a surprised noise as he fell back onto the carpet with his eyes screwed shut in laughter.

"Then I guess we'll stay here a while, Micheal. Say hi to Cthulu for me when you cross into the Ether." Pete flipped his hair out of his eyes while he watched Micheal manage a quick bird-flipping motion with his right hand. Pete groaned audibly as he shoved his fingers into Micheal's armpit, which made Micheal laugh hard.

"Just say you like it-" Pete was about to say before his phone chirped a notification sound. Pete looked back at his phone and decided to give Michael a break. Pete unlatched himself from Micheal's hips as he walked on his knees to read the notification. With Micheal's freedom, Micheal rolled onto his back and gulped in greedy amounts of air with a hand over his beating heart.

"You're a fucking dickhole, Pete... I swear to-" Micheal started, but Pete interrupted him.

"Oh shit. Sophie just invited me to her house. She said she wants to watch something." Pete looked over to Micheal, who was sitting up with a pained expression on his face. It was then that Micheal's phone chirped as well. Micheal pulled his phone out of his pocket and read out the message he received.

"I got an invitation too," Micheal said simply.

"What should we do?" Pete asked. Micheal started typing and sent back a message.

"I asked her what we'll watch," Micheal replied. Pete nodded and flipped his hair out of his eyes before sending the same question to Sophie.

A moment passed before both of their phones chirped at the same time.

"Mandalorian?" They both said out loud in an equally disgusted tone.

"She has a Disney Plus account?" Pete asked.

"Fucking conformist," Micheal said, displeased.

"Nope." Pete and Micheal said in unison before shutting down her invitation.

"Welp, so much for that. What should we do now?" It was then that the main character screamed from the television, grabbing both Micheal and Pete's attention.

Pete and Micheal decided to make up and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy horror movies. None of what they said they actually meant, and they really felt that way. Besides, no way a conformist could actually change the way two REAL goths thought about each other.

Pete did have some interesting stories to tell the rest of the group while Micheal wasn't around, however...

[softpine]

we’re gamin

[jojo-the-puppy]

I gotta say you're adorable and absolutely gropable

You could do whatever you wanted w me rn im so fucked up

[fictional-at-heart]

MIGHT have to go through my collection of whump prompts and see if I can’t get inspired for some Hiccup whump👀

[kuwdora]

I am perennially behind fandom chatter on tumblr parts, mostly cause my brain wants to move at the same speed as everyone else at the same time, but too much of my brain keeps me hanging back. today i am amply caffeinated and catching up with a great many fannish thoughts and feelings (and fic!).

but anyway. awhile back folks were talking about fantasy casting for the witcher books. and for me. i would love to see Ruth Negga as Kenna/Joanna Selborne. I really loved her in what I saw of Preacher and think she would make a great Kenna. also not for nothing but genderbend the casting of Regis so I can have Shoreh Agadashloo with thinning grey hair and vampire teeth. please. please. Her Regis monologue about the differences in human/vampire sexuality and mores would set my soul on fire. mwaghhh i would love it so much.

[machveil]

for the domestic whores, I’ve got you. Simon Riley x SingleParent!Reader🎀✨

Simon Riley who comes home from a deployment, headache throbbing behind his eyes as he jams his key into his flat’s doorknob. he’s absolutely exhausted, limbs heavy and chest a little tight with stress. he doesn’t even manage to kick off his boots before he’s falling back onto his couch, running a rough hand down his face as he sighs. everything is fine. a beer or three and some god awful realty show to turn his brain off always manages to make him pass out. yeah, a smoke or two and he can drift off, eyelids already droopy with sleep. then the crying starts

a slow glance to his left, fingers twitching slightly. there wasn’t a neighbor there before he left, and now some infant is screaming it’s bloody head off. it’ll stop soon. it’ll stop and Simon can fall into the pattern he’s set for himself. it’ll stop. it’s just a baby, someone’s got to make it stop. “No, no, no— it’s okay! Ssh, oh, honey—”, a muffled voice crooning through his walls, were the walls to his flat always so thin? a hiccupy wail cries out, sobs shortly following, “Sweetheart, look— it’s teddy! You love teddy.”, louder cries echoing through the air. maybe they don’t love teddy. with a groan, Simon stands up. today’s not the day for this, and he hates being that neighbor, but he needs peace and quiet

not even a minute later and he’s stepping down the hall, three quick knocks ringing out on his neighbors door. a deep breath leaves him as the crying continues, eyebrows raising slightly as the sound gets louder, the soft pad of walking overshadowed. there’s a soft click before the door opens and— Simon’s never seen you before. hair a little messy, faint eyebags, and a chunky little baby wailing on your hip. there’s a pause as you look up at him, and, god, there’s a lot to look at. a disposable medical mask he never took off, dressed nearly all in black, and looming past your doorframe. “Tha’s got to stop.”, short and curt, voice deep and rumbly

it’s only after he speaks does the little menace on your hip pipe down, bleary eyes blinking as they look up at the solider. glancing down at the baby, a soft little gurgle and grabby hands catch his eyes. delighted little noises as they reach their tiny arms out for him, “How’d you do that?”, you ask. your wide eyed expression makes him scoff, “What?”, happy little giggles reach Simon’s ears. “Say something else—”, you plead softly, readjusting your hold to cradle the baby, “They keep crying and I don’t know what to do— I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen them stop like that.”, you sound so tired, drained as you sway back and forth slightly. say something else. “‘M Simon.”

[bunnyouma]

surprising absolutely no one i am once again thinking about ouma getting spanked

[ultfashionista]

JON’S LAUGHHHHHH 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[emmyrosee]

Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰

oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)

———

“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”

“Okay.”

“And her melts are in the cabinet!”

“I know, I live here too.”

“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“

“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”

“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.

But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”

You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”

“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“

“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”

Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”

“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”

“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”

“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.

He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“

“Sukuna!” You snap.

“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.

The colors are good stimulation.

“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?

A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.

By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.

He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”

With that, you come home.

He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”

“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”

“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“

“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”

When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”

Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.

He loves that his small family fits in his arms.

[vibeswithdivs]

Papa Verstappen, Master of Pit Stops

Max Verstappen

The house was blanketed in silence, the kind of quiet that only came after a long, exhausting day. You had finally managed to crawl into bed, your limbs heavy with fatigue. The winter break had been anything but restful, with a three-month-old baby girl demanding every ounce of your energy. But now, for the first time that day, you’d stolen a few precious minutes of sleep, cocooned in the warmth of your duvet, with dreams tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

In the corner of the house, Max sat at his sim-racing setup, his brow furrowed in concentration as he maneuvered his virtual car around the track. The hum of the simulator and the occasional clack of buttons punctuated the stillness. He had spent the evening taking over as much as he could—soothing the baby, feeding her a bottle, and giving you a break—but even Max Verstappen needed a little time to unwind.

That peace shattered when a wail pierced through the house. The baby was awake, her cries echoing down the hallway and slicing through the stillness. Max froze for a moment, his hands pausing mid-turn on the wheel. He glanced at the baby monitor beside him, where the tiny figure of his daughter was flailing in her crib.

Max didn’t wait for you to get up. “I’ve got it,” he called out, already slipping off his headphones.

You mumbled something in response, too exhausted to argue, and sank back into the bed. Max hurried down the hallway, his sock-clad feet silent on the wooden floor, and entered the nursery. His daughter’s cries grew louder as he approached, her tiny fists clenched and her face scrunched up in frustration.

“Hey, kleine meisje,” Max said softly, his voice warm and affectionate despite the chaos. He bent over the crib, gently scooping her up into his arms. “What’s wrong, hmm? You didn’t like that Daddy was racing? You wanted some attention?”

He swayed on his feet, cradling her close as he tried to soothe her. The cries subsided into hiccupy sobs, her big blue eyes—so much like his own—blinking up at him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting at how tiny and fragile she felt in his arms.

But then the crying started up again, loud and insistent, and Max frowned. “Okay, okay. I hear you. Let’s figure this out.” He carried her over to the changing table, his movements careful as he laid her down. “Is it your tummy? No, you just ate. Hmm… Or maybe you’re too warm?”

He checked her swaddle, loosening it slightly. That didn’t help. He picked her up again, bouncing her gently as he tried to think. “I’m not great at this detective stuff, you know,” he said, his voice light and teasing despite his growing concern. “Mama’s the expert. I’m just the backup crew.”

The baby didn’t seem impressed with his self-deprecating humor, her cries persisting at full volume. Max frowned, running a hand through his messy hair. Then, like a lightbulb switching on, he remembered something you had said earlier in the day about diaper changes. He glanced at her tiny bottom, noticing the telltale bulk of a full diaper.

“Is that it?” he asked, his voice rising in playful excitement. “Do you need a pit stop? Papa’s got you, don’t worry.”

But as he set her back down on the changing table and reached for the diaper bag, a new wave of uncertainty hit him. He stared at the tabs and folds of the diaper, his confidence faltering. “Okay, this looks… complicated,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. His daughter let out another wail, as if to say, Hurry up!

Max grabbed his phone and quickly searched, “How to change a diaper.” He clicked on the first YouTube video he found, balancing the phone on the edge of the changing table. The cheerful voice of a parenting vlogger filled the room, explaining the process step by step.

“See?” Max said, glancing at his daughter as he unfastened the old diaper. “We’re learning together. You’ll thank me for this someday when you’re not sitting in a wet diaper anymore.” His tone was playful, and he leaned down to nuzzle her cheek for good measure. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

The baby quieted a little at his soft voice, watching him with wide, curious eyes. Max followed the instructions meticulously, wiping her clean and slipping a fresh diaper under her. He fumbled with the adhesive tabs for a moment, muttering under his breath, “How do they make these look so easy in the video?”

Finally, he fastened the diaper snugly and lifted her into his arms with a triumphant grin. “Done! Papa Verstappen, master of pit stops!” He kissed her on the forehead again, rocking her gently. “You can stop crying now, okay? That was a world-champion-level diaper change.”

As if on cue, the baby’s cries softened into tiny hiccups, her eyes drooping as she relaxed against him. Max chuckled softly, a wave of relief washing over him. He walked her around the nursery, humming a lullaby he vaguely remembered from his own childhood.

When she finally drifted off to sleep, Max stood there for a moment, marveling at the tiny bundle in his arms. The late-night exhaustion, the interrupted sim race, the frantic diaper change—it was all worth it for this. He laid her back down in the crib, tucking her in carefully before tiptoeing out of the room.

Back in the bedroom, he found you half-awake, propped up on one elbow and blinking groggily. “Everything okay?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

“Perfect,” Max said, climbing into bed beside you and pulling the blanket over both of you. “Our little girl just needed a fresh diaper. We worked it out.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” you murmured, already drifting back to sleep.

Max pressed a kiss to your hair, his heart full. “Anything for my girls,” he whispered, holding you close as the house finally settled into peace once more.

[squishygirl46]

Watch me eat this food in this tight dress in newest vid!!! Also you can hear some hiccupis and my gut noises ahah! Boosty, Patreon, Curvage

[lalalunel]

Work (or a lack thereof)

semester is over, I've just been rendered horny

wc: 671

cw: filthy, porn no plot, needy user x tired Leon, dirty talk, degrading, mention of aftercare, p in v sex, crying, unprotected sex (wrap that thing yall!), creampie

enjoy?

All Leon wanted to do was work. 

Get some reports done, send a few emails, down a couple glasses of whiskey while doing it. He had it all planned perfectly. He should’ve known there was something wrong with how perfect it seemed. The ‘something wrong’ was you. 

Leon wanted to work but you wanted to play. Leon wanted to work but you wanted to cuddle. Leon wanted to work but you wanted to paw at his dick like a needy slut in heat to tempt him into giving up his work and fucking your brains out. 

You were the word distraction in human form and Leon was only a man. He couldn’t be blamed for his actions when you were asking for it. 

“God, I really do hate it when you’re needy, y’know that?” He grunted, roughly gripping your hair with no remorse. He didn’t have the energy to try and be gentle, and it's not like you deserved or wanted it anyways. “Only thing you ever want is my dick, huh? Like you can’t live without it.” 

He used his grip on your hair to roughly push your face into the pillows on your shared bed, rolling his hips so his cock nudged into you deep enough to have you squirming and babbling incoherently into your silky pillow case. “For fucks sake- I told you I needed to get my work done but you just can’t wait. Desperate little bitch can’t ever wait, tight little pussy just needs to be filled 24/7, hm? I should keep you fucking sedated when I need to get something done.” 

His words are filled with a heat that he knows you can’t understand at the moment, and he doesn’t mind it because that saved him a little more apologizing later. Right now, though, if you can’t understand it verbally, he’ll make you feel it. 

Tugging on your hair and pushing your face into the pillows, pressing down on your back so that it arches, and he can rut in deeper, reaching to pinch at your pert nipples until you’re whining about the pain and sensitivity. 

He’s doing everything so sharply and at a pace so slow it makes you want to cry- no it does make you cry. A few watery sobs mix into your babbling and Leon wonders for a minute if he’s gone too far. He stills his hips and just as he goes to ask if you’re alright, he feels you pushing yourself back on him, fucking yourself back on him even as you cry. Fuck. It nearly makes him bust right there. “Jesus--” 

It’s all he needs to exchange his grip on your hair for a two handed grip on your hips, pulling your body back onto his cock and snapping his hips into you at the same time for a dangerous combo. “Fuck, gonna’ stuff this pussy so you’ll leave me alone. Make sure you’re satisfied and full of cum so I can get my work done.” He makes you feel like a rag doll in the best way and it has you gushing and clenching around him just mere moments later, crying completely into the pillows as he chases his own release using your body. 

“Ssshit--” He comes with a hitched groan, his hips stuttering into yours once, twice, before he’s falling still and then literally falling down on top of you, caging your body down against the bed as he takes a breather and his dick jerks inside you, spurting thick ropes of white deep inside. Fucking takes a lot out of him. Literally.

He huffs when he hears a hiccupy complaint from you about how he’s too heavy and for him to get off of you. That’s the thanks he gets for giving into your whining about needing him and neglecting his work that he needed to get done? Sounds to him like you need a lesson in how to properly show your gratitude. Another round seems like a sufficient lesson in his books.

~~~

i'd kill to be sedated rn

[mikanotes]

live a little!

hyunsu ? x gn!reader

genre: ‘idont knowww he likes you’ that’s the genre

warnings: mentions of death, blood and injuries, cursing, monster hyunsu jumpscare, attempting to work with the “monster hyunsu does what hyunsu desires” thing except it takes place in season one and i’m trying to make it as fitting to canon as possible, this is a badly written mess Sorry!

synopsis: The day Hyunsu’s mind acknowledges his feelings for you, but he himself doesn’t quite realize.

author’s note: if you’re desperate for a part 2 to up close & personal you can pretend this is a prequel because it kind of fits? anyways i’ll write for Hyunsu hyunsu eventually too i miss him it’s been a bit

“You’re no fun.” Hyunsu laughs.

His voice is heavy and he’s struggling to catch his breath, practically stumbling over his words. In fact, he’s practically stumbling over his own feet due to how impatient and quick his movements are. His face, usually so stoic and soft, is now covered in blood and adorned with a maniacal grin, paired with those hiccupy laughs of his. He looks positively fucking insane.

“Yes, well. If that means valuing staying alive, I’ll be no fun.” you say, fingers holding the hood of Hyunsu’s jacket tightly. He tilts his head in your direction, looking at you with those black, glassy eyes. Your gaze hardens, “What?”

He scoffs. “Live a little.” he says, tone light. He brushes off your hand and takes a step into your personal space. His voice drops to a whisper, one that sounds almost mocking for a short time. “You’re so hellbent on surviving, but are you even living?”

You’re forced to back into the railing behind you and hold onto it, eyes never leaving Hyunsu’s.

“Come on. You’re not gonna tell me I’m wrong.” he scoffs softly, leaning down, “Right?”

“Get it together, Cha Hyunsu.” you say, glaring a little. The latter grins.

“What? You think I’m out of my mind? Why would I need to get it together?”

“If anyone else had been here to see you, you would’ve been killed already. Look at yourself.”

You hear the railing behind you creak, and you feel Hyunsu’s hand on your back saving you from a fate similar to the one he’d faced towards the beginning of this apocalypse before you feel the metal moving away from you. The sound of it breaking and falling down from the flight of stairs is loud and makes you flinch.

He pulls you away from the edge and lets go of you.

“You’re welcome.” he says, tone flat, “I know what I look like. But they couldn’t kill me if they tried. Now let’s go kill some monsters already.”

He seriously doesn’t get why you shoot him this annoyed look of yours. (He just saved you! Hello?!) After all, what’s so wrong about this? Killing monsters? That’s literally the only thing everyone in this fucking building keeps him alive for, right? It’s always Hyunsu do this, do that, save us, don’t kill us, and now, get it together. That’s why everyone should die.

Then again, he knows you think differently from the others. You’re telling him to snap out of it so he won’t be cast out by the others even more. That’s why you came with him. Why you never abandoned him.

Because you… care. Surprisingly.

Ah, now I get it, Hyunsu. he thinks. You care about this person much more than you realize.

He sighs and tilts his head. “Come on.” he sighs, tone somewhere between pleading and annoyed.

“We have stuff to retrieve. For everyone else.” you say, gaze averting to the place you were just standing at. “Let’s not take unnecessary risks.”

Hyunsu drums his fingers against the spear in his hand, eyes narrowing a little. “Do you really think I care about anyone in this place enough to get their shit?” he asks calmly, “You’re mistaken.”

“He does.” you sigh, “Whether it’s a good thing or not, he does.“

“And that’s really not my problem.” It is.

He hears the growl of a monster in a corridor nearby and turns towards the direction of the sound. Killing everyone. That’s what he wants. That’s what he cares about. He swings the door open and steps in, before stopping.

He leans back just enough to look at you from the side of the door. “Are you sure you won’t come?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips.

You seem to still be frightened by what would’ve happened if he hadn’t caught you. Frightened by the idea of falling from so high. He heaves a deep sigh and steps back out, just enough to grab your arm and pull you closer.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, “Stop thinking about almost falling to your death.”

When you’re closer to him like this, Hyunsu feels confused. Well, this is clearly a crush, he thinks. But he doesn’t think that is something that he should be able to feel. It’s like an instinct to reach out to protect you. A reflex. Maybe it’s his feelings? He’s not sure.

“It’s hard to think about anything else.”

“Then focus on me.” he says. The word ‘me’ comes out a bit harsher than the rest, a bit like it’s echoing. He lets go of your arm. “And all will be well. That’s crazy practical, right?” he scoffs.

“I don’t get you.” you say, crossing your arms. “Are you trying to help me?”

He takes a deep breath and closes the door a little to look at you properly, leaning against the edge of it. “To be honest with you, I mostly just care about myself.” he answers easily, “But…”

You. You who looks at this part of him and cares, still. Who doesn’t even seem scared. Who just wants to make sure he’s okay, in spite of everything.

Maybe you deserve to be excluded from the ‘everyone’ that he wishes would just die.

He thinks he can find a middle ground. A way to reach some sort of agreement with Hyunsu. You may just be the key to getting him to accept his own self. He shrugs. “Who knows.”

He lets the weaker half of him take control again. After all, each time a danger seemed to get too close to you, the instinct to help you and get you away before it could reach you was his. So as the greater part of him, he would do everything he can to help him out. And right now, that would be letting him deal with all this and maybe try to bargain for this whole control thing.

“Hyunsu.” you say, eyes wide. His own eyes have finally returned to their usual state. He blinks, taking a few seconds to register what’s going on, then his eyes widen as well.

“Are you okay?!”

“Uh…” he trails off, looking towards the edge of the stairs, where there should have been a railing. Then he looks at your relieved expression, then at the half-opened door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…”

He thinks for a moment then slowly, carefully closes the door. “I’m fine. Are you? Maybe I should go alone.” he says.

“No, it’s fine. I’m alright. Let’s go together.”

(I could help you keep them safe.)

His hand tightens around his spear as he tries to ignore how loud his mind is.

No. Shut up.

“… Okay. Let’s go, then.”

He has a lot to do. There’s a list of things the other residents asked him to get for them. You didn’t have to go with him, but you did, which means he has to make sure you both survive this whole thing. He has a lot of things to focus on, and none of them include the monster in his head trying to get him to listen.

Maybe one day, he’d accept it.

Who knows?

[princessbrunette]

imagine rafe not being able to spend the night and your house bc he has like early business to do and you’re just so whiny begging him not to leave like clinging to his leg and he’s like “jesus christ i’ll be back tmr 😒” but at the same time he’s like 😊 bc it’s nice to feel needed

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

you were clingy and you knew it. instead of pretending like you weren’t, you learnt to fully embrace it. no matter how much rafe tried to act like he didn’t, you knew he loved it deep down. it made him feel wanted, something not many other people in his life offered him.

he pats his keys in his back pocket as he slowly makes his way to your front door, lips parted as he thinks over everything he had on his person when he arrived, making sure to leave none of it behind. it was bad today, you really needed him. after the day you had, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and just… better. you cry, pathetic and hiccupy as you keep a clasp on his hand and he lets you hold it all the way to the door before pulling himself out of your grasp.

“okay, hey— can’t keep cryin’ like this baby you knew i wasn’t stayin’ over tonight because i told you. gave you time to… emotionally prepare n’shit. i got business to do early tomorrow, remember?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to reason with you. his voice is stern but he’s mopping up your tears with his thumb anyway.

“i know but i had a bad day, i just want you to sleep here!” you sob, clutching over his wrists as his hands clean you up and he shakes his head, gently removing them.

“look i’m — i’m sorry, alright? you know i wanna stay here, more than anything. but i’m a man now, yeah? i’m in charge of handlin’ business n’i got people relying on me. sometimes you— you have to make the hard choice, and this is one of those times.” he lectures you, so you do what any reasonable human being would do, and lower yourself to the ground, wrapping yourself around his leg.

“you’re not going.” you swipe your tear on his pants and he sighs in exasperation, trying to wiggle you off to no avail.

“jesus fuckin’ christ, are you kidding? get up, hey—” he tries to walk, but you cling him tighter, coming with him and he stops again. “let go and listen to me. m’gonna count to three, don’t let me get there.” he lifts up a finger and you unlatch yourself, staying on the ground in a ball. rate lowers himself into a squat, expression stern and yet yielding. “alright. you’re gonna calm down, yeah? i will sit with you until you fall asleep, and it better be within the hour or i’m just gonna leave. get up, c’mon. go brush your teeth.” he stands, giving you a little nudge with his foot and you hop up, happy enough with the outcome of him staying a little longer and run upstairs, not waiting for him to follow.

he huffs out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “little shit.” he whispers, following you. once you’re all in bed, ready — he comes and sits beside you, mopping up the last remaining tears that stain your face with the backs of his knuckles. “okay. i’m here. now go to sleep.”

“kiss, rafe.” you pucker your lips and he indulges you, bringing you a nice long one to satisfy you before pulling back.

“close your eyes.” he sighs tiredly and you do so, but not before switching off your lamp. he places a hand on your back over your pyjama shirt, rubbing slow circles as if tries to silently coax you to sleep faster so he can get going, smiling secretly to himself at your shenanigans.

he won’t admit it, but he did feel really sad to go, and even considered staying— but he knew he had to make the responsible choice, so with one final look, he left you in your bedroom fast asleep.

─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──

[fear-is-truth]

Do you believe that if the reader were experiencing terrible cramping during her period, Rafe would behave differently? As though she is crying into her pillow and is having trouble communicating. Rafe must be a little direct and use his firm voice in order to convince her to listen when she first tries to resist his attempts to reassure and calm her

bf!rafe comforting reader who’s suffering terrible cramps.

⟢ content warning: period cramps. kinda perv!rafe. 18+ ⟢ a/n: ohhh yes, i can defo picture him doing that

rafe fights back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off an incoming headache. of all times he should not be thinking about this—shouldn’t be noticing the way your lips are all swollen, or how pearly droplets of tears cling to your lashes. it’s fucked. he knows that. and yet, when you sniffle again, burrowing deeper into the pillow with a pitiful little whimper, his dick gives an interested twitch.

jesus christ.

“babygirl,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face, trying to snap himself out of it.

“c’mon.”

no response. you’re curled up in a fetal position, shivering under the blanket as if you can hide from the onslaught of cramps if you just make yourself small enough. rafe clenches his fists. unclenches his fists. fights down something in his gut that stirs at the sight of you so helpless and pretty like this. he forces it down, because shit, you’re in pain, and that’s not—this isn’t—he shoves it away.

“god, enough,” he sighs, reaching for you.

“let me help.” you shake your head, sniffling, curling up tighter. god, you’re so fucking stubborn. his fingers twitch, and then—fuck it. he hauls you up, maneuvering you into his lap, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. you land straddling one of his thighs, his arm bracketing you in despite the weak, hiccupy protests you make. you struggle for all of two seconds before your body falls entirely limp, tearstained cheek pressing into his chest. he sighs, keeping a steady grip on you as he settles back against the headboard. a toned arm locks around you, one hand gently pressing against your lower stomach.

“you’re gonna listen to me, alright? this isn’t the time to play a goddamn martyr.” his voice has lost its authoritative edge, gone softer, but no less firm. you hiccup against his chest, eyelids fluttering shut when his thumb starts moving in slow, repetitive circles. applying gentle pressure, easing the cramping away.

“my poor baby.” rafe clicks his tongue in sympathy and affection. you sniffle, fingers curling into his shirt, and he rubs a circle over your belly. it’s just that—just him taking care of you, like he should—but then you let out this content little sigh, so soft, so fucking sweet, and fuck. the protectiveness in him is immediately tainted with lust.

he catches himself wondering where he can make you wetter, what other sounds he could pull from your mouth if he really tried. his dick twitches again (thank god you didn’t notice, because how the hell is he going to explain that), a sharp pulse of heat low in his gut and he forces himself to ignore it. later. right now, you need him. so he rocks you a little, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.