#i get to go to these places for free hellooo

[usomads]

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process. 

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away. 

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe. 

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him. 

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?” 

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…” 

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-” 

“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you…  only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?” 

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him. 

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?” 

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him. 

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

[httyd-art-requests]

Hellooo!! I saw a drawing come across my dash recently by you that I believe was original art with your ocs?? I’m a big sucker for httyd ocs and I was wondering, how many do you have? Would you be willing to talk about them maybe??

YIPPEE I love talking about my OCs!! Thank you for the interest, I'm more than willing to talk about my little guys and gals <3 It's probably going to get long, sooo...

OC lore and art under the ominously placed readmore button. smile

Dreamer

The pair you (probably) saw the art of are my self insert, Dreamer, and his Deathgripper companion Draugr. Dreamer is a scholar and healer's apprentice who arrives on New Berk to study dragons in order to better heal them... except he's also terrified of them. Draugr is one of Grimmel's former Deathgripper minions who was stranded on New Berk after the events of (my alternate version of) THW. Dreamer nurses him back to health, and in return he helps Dreamer get over his fear of dragons.

Dreamer also has 2 Terrible Terror buddies, and they're also the ones who deliver all your asks to me :) They're called Terror Mail for a reason, hehe

Light Furies

I have a pair of female Light Fury OC named Eclipse and Sunny, who are a mated pair. Eclipse is melanistic and a menace to humans and dragons alike, and Sunny is the only dragon she likes having around her. Grumpy one × Sunshine one.

Eclipse was gravely injured in a fight to defend her territory from another dragon, and would have perished had Sunny not stumbled upon her. Sunny, a young female who recently left her flock to establish her own, refused to leave a fellow Light Fury to her fate- no matter how much of a hassle she insisted on being. And thus, Sunny slowly carved out a place for herself in Eclipse's cold, cold heart, and two of them remained by eachother's sides ever since.

I plan on redrawing them sometime soon, now that my style has changed somewhat

The Huntsman

The proverbial meat and potatoes of my OC roster. He has the most detailed story out of all of them, and he's one of my favorite OCs I've ever made <3

His name is Iskar, also known by his moniker as the Huntsman. He's the son of a dragon hunter who, after his father's fleet was burned down and pillaged by a mysterious warlord, was raised by the family of a blacksmith on a faraway island where dragons only exist in folktales.

Well, except for one...

Iskar's Night Fury, Warden, who was kept as a living trophy on his father's ship before it burned. Iskar formed a bond with the dragon, who then stole him away to save his life. The two of them have become inseperable, and Warden is part of the reason Iskar is feared across the Archipelago. As for the other reason...

Iskar also gets involved with Drago Bludvist, following a trail of rumors in an attempt to find his father again. Drago blackmails him into working for him, and Iskar becomes something like a personal attack dog and assassin for Drago. He earns himself a reputation and becomes a wives' tale across the Archipelago, and it isn't until he meets Hiccup, during Drago's siege on Berk, that he's convinced to take up arms against Drago and free himself. Iskar switches sides to help save Berk, gives Hiccup his own world map as a farewell gift, and returns home to his family after nearly 10 years.

In a sort of epilogue / theoretical second movie, Iskar takes his niece, Valorie, to Berk so she can learn to train dragons "the proper way". Needless to say, Berk is not very happy to see the man responsible for almost getting their island destroyed. Iskar acts as a translator between Valorie and the Berkians, as Valorie doesn't speak their language and Iskar does (on account of his travels with Drago), and through the course of their stay on the island, he successfully redeems himself in the eyes of the Berkian population.

Valorie

Okay she's not actually Iskar's niece. She's the daughter of Runar and Ylva, the blacksmith and his wife who originally raised Iskar, and the ones Iskar returned home to after he was free of Drago. They had her while Iskar was away working for Drago, and she was around 8 years old when he came back home, give or take. She grew up knowing him as Uncle Iskar, the globetrotter and explorer who occasionally came home to bring her cool presents.

She grew up with a Night Fury around the house, so naturally, she became fascinated by dragons and dragon riding- which Iskar definitely didn't help with, considering he engineered Warden's saddle to have a second seat right behind the rider's own.

She eventually bonds with a Stormcutter while studying under Berk's finest (Fishlegs), whom she names Windseeker.

Valhalla's Gate

Not a character, but an island Iskar discovers during his travels as a free man after Dragos defeat. Iskar is a cartographer by profession, thus the handcrafted world map he gifts Hiccup, which just so happens to contain directions to a hidden island Iskar has named Valhalla's Gate.

It's a dragon sanctuary through and through, built around and on the back of a sleeping Foreverwing which guards the island and all of its inhabitants. You can only approach the island on dragon back, similar to how you could only leave Vanaheim by smelling a certain way to trick the Sentinels in RTTE. A natural defense mechanism, if you will.

Iskar often takes detours on his travels to visit the island, and becomes well known by all the dragons that live on it. Hiccup also finds it thanks to Iskar's map, shortly after Berk rebuilds itself and Hiccup has to suddenly take on a lot of chiefly responsibilities- and what better way to deal with newfound responsibilities than to follow a mysterious map given to you by a guy who tried to kill you? Surely nothing can go wrong. Smile.

Conclusion

There's a lot more to say about all of them, but hopefully this about covers the important parts. I could go on about Ylva and Runar, Iskar's relationship with Eret and Hiccup, Dreamer's relationship with the Berkians, etc etc, but this reply is long enough already lol

I'm always happy to talk about my characters, so feel free to ask me stuff about them if you guys are interested! But, seeing as this is primarily an art request blog, I won't be talking about them much unless someone asks. That's what @wardenofdragons is for!

(He says, knowing full well he keeps forgetting to post on it)

[crackers4jenn]

PNW faves

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[sturnioloszn]

JEALOUS - C.S

summary; while your boyfriend is streaming, one specific girl keeps gifting, and you begin to feel jealous of all the attention she's receiving, so chris comes to show you some attention too...

warnings; smut, unprotected sex (wrap the willy), tit sucking, dirty talk, teasing, praising, leaving hickeys, spanking, i think that's it..?

a/n; i have more ideas for fics, but please feel free to leave suggestions/recommendations on what fics u want to see and ill provide like a fairy godmother (unless it's some crazy shit like a shit kink, get out).

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

It was currently 1am, and my boyfriend and I were cuddled up in his bed watching our favourite series. I loved nights where I was able to just lay in bed with Chris and relax, especially with the chaotic lives we both live.

However, this didn't last long.

"Yo, wanna stream late night fort duos?" Matt questions, walking into the room. Chris looks down at my face, which is currently resting on his chest.

"Would you mind if I streamed with Matt for a few hours, baby?" He asks. There's a look of hope in his eyes, and who am I to deny him having fun with his brother.

"Of course not, you don't have to ask me," I reply, giving a small smile. I love cuddling with Chris, but I don't mind letting him play fortnite with his brother. He'll probably hop off in a few hours and come back to bed anyway.

As he slowly stands up from his bed, he gives me a small thanks before moving to his desk. I watched him attentively as he placed his headphones on his fluffy hair and turned on his monitor, which illuminated a soft blue light onto his face.

I could watch him all day and night. He was the most beautiful man I've ever seen. The way his hair was slightly damp, from coming out the shower not long ago, and the way his facial hair looks without a few days of shaving. God, he was perfect.

"Hellooo people," he says, adjusting his mic. I didn't even realise that he had started the stream already.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand so I could distract myself from all the screaming and shouting that was bound to happen.

~

It had been roughly an hour and a half since the stream first started, and Chris and Matt were still playing reload, and I was still scrolling on tiktok.

"HOLY SHIT, AVA WITH THE 100 BOMB!" Chris yells, making me turn my head to look at him. I loved how grateful Chris always is, whether people gift 1 or 100, Chris was always so thankful. I really did get lucky with him.

A few moments later Chris shrieks, "No fuckin' way, another 50 subs from Ava,". I turn to look at him again and he has the widest grin on his mouth.

"Everyone spam 'w Ava' in the chat," He says, focusing back in on his game.

I honestly don't know how some people are able to gift so much. I've seen the price of subs, and they are priceyyy. Yet, some people gift hundreds and hundreds.

"AVA WITH ANOTHER 50, HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE THE GOAT AVA," He yells again, shuffling in his chair.

What the fuck? This girl dropped a bag on subs in 5 minutes.

This continues for another half an hour, and to be honest, I'm getting sick of it. Don't get me wrong, I love that they're getting subs but it's the same fucking girl. Can she give it a rest? She's been spamming them with subs, and Chris is not letting it go unnoticed to anyone.

I look over to Chris, and he's smiling wider than ever. He must realise I'm staring at him, so he turns to look at me back.

As soon as we make eye contact, I shuffle on the bed and turn my back to him. From the corner of my eye, I can see his smile fade, and he turns back to his game.

I don't know why I'm feeling like this. I'm not upset about the subs. Is it jealousy? Am I feeling jealous of all the attention Chris is giving this random girl? I guess I am. It's hard not to when he left cuddling you to praise some random girl on the internet.

"Matt, I'm lowkey getting tired. After this round, I'm gonna hop off," Chris says, and through my peripheral vision, I can see him look at me.

He's lying. He's not tired at all, it's only 3am. He can sense something is wrong with me, and that's why he's hopping off the game.

But, as he said, he finished up the round and ended stream.

"Babe, what's wrong?" He asks, standing up from the chair and making his way over to me on the bed. I pretend not to hear him and shuffle slightly further away from him. He notices my actions and repeats his question.

"Why are you in a mood? Is it cause I streamed with Matt?" He continues to ask questions, but I continue to ignore him. I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe I just want him to pay attention to me, too.

He realises the game I'm playing and decides to change the rules.

He leans down and begins to place soft kisses on my neck. I'm fighting to not close my eyes and keep looking at my screen, but the feeling is consuming me, and I let my eyes flutter close.

"Why are you ignoring me, baby? What can I do to hear your pretty voice, hm?" He says between kisses. Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He then grabs my phone out of my hand and throws it somewhere on the bed. He forcefully turns me to lay on my back and places himself between my legs, bringing his face up to mine.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do you want to keep playing the silent game?" He challenges. I'm looking into his dark and tired eyes, enough to get lost in them.

"It's not fair," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

"What's not fair, my love?" He asks, rewarding me with another kiss on my neck for answering him.

"All the attention you were showing that stupid girl," I say. My panties are already soaked by the few simple kisses that he had given me. If he continues like this, I'll have to wring out my thong.

A smirk subtly grows on his lips, and he dips his head back down to my neck for another reward. "Are you jealous, baby?" He whispers against my skin.

Fuck. He was driving me insane.

"Yeah, so what?" I ask, challenging him back. I then feel his lips attach to my neck. I gasp softly when he begins to lightly suck on my sweet spot.

"I'm so sorry baby, let me show you the attention you deserve," he says, moving back up to my face. His soft lips crash into mine, and his hands explore my body. My body feels like it's on fire, and I'm craving him more than ever.

"Chris, please," I beg. I'm begging him for something more, I need more.

"I know, baby," he coos. He then brings his hands to the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head when he sees my nod of approval. He instantly wraps his warm mouth around my nipple and I shudder at the new sensation. He lifts his hand to my other nipple and begins to roll it between his fingertips.

By now, soft moans are escaping my mouth from the stimulation, but I'm still hungry for more. I buck my hips at him to indicate what I really want. He notices my desperate actions and separates himself from my chest.

He hooks his fingers over the band of my sweatpants and yanks them down, revealing my soaked thong.

"Fuck, look at you," He rasps, admiring the patch of wetness that seeped through my underwear. I whine at his comment, I need him so bad. He then peels his own clothes off, leaving himself in just his boxers.

As he pulls his last item of clothing off, his swollen cock sprung out. I sigh at the sight in front of me. I'll never get over this view.

"Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees," he says stroking his cock a few times and rubbing his pre-cum all over his head.

I swiftly move into the position he ordered, and I feel his hand on my lowerback, pushing me into a deeper arch. At this point, my ass is completely in the air, and I'm ready for him to use me.

I feel him pull my thong to the side, letting the cold air in the room hit my warm and wet pussy. With no hesitation, he slides his cock into me with ease, filling me up. We both moan at the contact.

He instantly starts ramming into me, showing no mercy whatsoever. My arms give out immediately, and my face is smushed into a pillow.

"Isn't this what you wanted? My attention," He grunts out from behind me, placing a firm slap on my right ass cheek. I let out a strangled moan, allowing myself to grip the bedsheets.

"Answer you attention whore," he repeats, placing another slap on my ass.

"Y-yes, fuck!" I yelp. He continues to ruthlessly fuck my pussy and I feel the heat in my lower stomach build. I was coming close to finishing. Between the dirty talk, the spanks, and of course the fucking, I wasn't going to last long at all.

"C-chris m'gonna...f-finish," I stutter out. My knuckles are turning white from how intensely I'm gripping the sheets.

"Yeah? Come on my cock like the good girl you are," he groans, placing another spank on my cheek. I bet that by now, my ass is glowing red.

His words push me over the edge, and I violently shake beneath him, allowing a flow of curse words to leave my mouth as he helps me ride out my high and bring himself to his own.

"Fuck. Your such a jealous whore and look how I have you, you think I'm fuckin' other girls like this? Hm?" He asks, pounding into me even harder. I'm starting to become oversensitive, but I know he's about to come any second.

I feel his hands grip my hips hard enough to leave bruises and his warm cum coats my insides. His movements begin to slow, and I let out a satisfied sigh. I feel him pull his limp cock out of my full pussy and he moves to lay beside me.

I crumble next to him and place my head on his chest. Our sweaty bodies are still for a moment as we attempt to catch our breath after the best cardio session ever.

"Jealousy cured?" He smiles, looking down at me.

"Definitely. I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier," I apoligise, giving a sincere smile. Before he can reply, his phone buzzes.

"Who the fuck is texting at almost 4am?" He questions, as he unlocks his phone. He opens his texts and sees a message from Matt:

'Tired my ass, u guys are disgusting'

He pans his phone over to me, and we both die from laughter. The rest of the night is spent cuddling and watching tv together, just the way I love it.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; this is long as shitttt. anywhoo, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed another one of my 4am creations. love youu <33.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

HELLOOO first off love your writing and how you write the characters!

I don't know if you requests are open or not, if they aren't then just ignore this

Can you please do a reaction of whoever you want in stray kids being used to dating gold diggers they usually pay for everything and when they don't their s/o would get mad

So when they cancel your date to a very fancy restaurant because they were sick they expected you to be mad but instead you came to his house made him soup and took care of them the whole time :))))

Plus points if they're touch starved and love having you physically babying them and play with their hair

Midas Touch | Seungmin

Seungmin x gn!reader

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Seungmin wasn’t sure what to expect when he sent the text.

He stared at his phone, the screen glowing with your contact, hesitation gnawing at him. Cancelling plans was never easy, but it was particularly hard when he thought about your excitement for tonight’s dinner. He could still remember the way your eyes lit up when he mentioned the reservation at that fancy restaurant downtown- a place he was far too familiar with, thanks to his past relationships.

Those relationships had been…transactional, to say the least. Each time, Seungmin found himself with people who seemed more interested in what he could give them than who he truly was. The constant gift-giving, the endless high-end dates- it was what they expected. And when he couldn’t provide it, when life happened and plans were cancelled, it always led to the same disappointed reaction.

The expectations weighed on him, but with you? He wasn’t sure what to expect. Would you be upset like the others?

With a sigh, he hit send:

I’m sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight. I’m not feeling well.

He pressed his phone to his chest, his free hand tapping on his knee lightly while waiting for the inevitable “Oh, really? Can’t you just power through?” or the disappointed silence that followed whenever he wasn’t able to meet those expectations.

But your response came much quicker than anticipated.

Oh no, poor thing! I’m coming over, sit tight <3 !!

His brow furrowed as he re-read your message. You were coming over? No protest, no irritation at the lost reservation? He blinked at his phone, almost unable to believe it. The kind of reaction he was so used to- the irritation, the sigh of inconvenience -it didn’t come like he expected.

An hour later, there was a soft knock on his door, and when he opened it, there you were, holding a bag that smelled like fresh soup. Your face was laced with concern, your nose red from the harsh cold as your eyes scanning him over like you were already assessing his health.

"Y/N, you didn’t have to come all the way here," Seungmin murmured, already feeling a little guilty for dragging you into this. His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat.

But you just gave him a soft smile and stepped inside. "Of course I did. You’re sick, Seungmin. Who else is going to take care of you otherwise?"

That simple question left him speechless.

He wasn’t used to someone wanting to take care of him- he was used to being the one who was expected to provide, to look after others. He watched as you took off your coat, making yourself comfortable in his space without a second thought, moving toward his kitchen like it was second nature to you.

For the next few hours, he watched in disbelief as you fussed over him. You made sure he drank water, helped him eat the soup you'd brought, and even tidied up his apartment a little, though it wasn’t necessary since he was a clean man. And each time you checked on him, each time you brushed your hand over his forehead to feel for a fever, or when you gently ruffled his hair, something inside him sparked- or rather melted.

It was strange, this feeling of being cared for. He realized how touch-starved he truly was, how much he craved this kind of closeness without even knowing it.

How much he actually loved it when it came from you- as he hated it from others.

Every time your fingers skimmed his hair, he felt a warmth that had nothing to do with his fever. When you tucked him in on the couch, playfully patting his arm and settling beside him, he leaned into your touch without even thinking about it.

And that’s when the weight of it all hit him- the difference between you and everyone else who had been in his life before.

He’d always thought his value was in what he could give, how much he could provide. But with you, it wasn’t about that. It never had been.

Seungmin’s thoughts drifted to the legend of King Midas- the man whose touch turned everything into gold. For Midas, his gift had become a curse; no matter what he touched, it lost its warmth, its life. He realized he had been living like that -surrounded by gold, by riches and luxury, but none of it held meaning.

But you…you weren’t like that.

You weren’t interested in the gold, in the material things he could give. You were interested in him. Your touch wasn’t a curse; it was warmth, real and alive. It brought him back to life in a way that no extravagant date ever could.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Seungmin’s voice came out quieter than he intended, a mix of vulnerability and genuine curiosity. "I thought you’d be mad that I cancelled. Especially since it was a nice restaraunt...expensive..." He trailed off, his puppy eyes trailing up to your face to gauge your reaction.

Were you...truly not upset about this at all?

You turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowing like you couldn’t believe he’d even ask that. "Mad? Why would I be mad? You’re sick, Seungmin. Of course I’m gonna be here. Besides, this is cheaper anyway! A nice little stay-in date. The second cheapest soup in the store is the best soup." You stated matter of factly. "Paired with some kimbap and drink of your choice-" You held up your finger in an "okay" sign and winked. "This is even better than if we ate out!" You saaid clapping once as you reached for food.

He blinked at you, a little taken aback by the sincerity in your voice.

"You...mean that?"

"Mhm, why wouldn't I?" You asked, stuffing the closest thing into your mouth, not looking at Seungmin, rather focused on your convenience store goodies.

"It’s just…I’m not used to this."

"What do you mean?" you gently tugged the blanket over him, sliding yourself under the corner as well, your fingers brushing his arm as you adjusted it.

"I’m used to…" He hesitated, feeling a little exposed. "People getting upset when I can’t…provide. Fancy dates, expensive gifts. That kind of thing."

You smiled, soft and a little sad, as if the idea of anyone expecting that from him was ridiculous. "I’m not here for any of that. I mean, yeah, those things are nice, but I’m here for you, Seungmin. I like you for you. Not for what you can give me."

He swallowed hard, the words sinking deep into him. He had heard it before, in half-hearted reassurances from past partners, but this -this felt real.

You meant it.

And it hit him harder than he expected. His heart hammered in his chest.

Is this what real love felt like...you guys hadn't exchanged that word yet...but...

In this moment he felt the urge to.

"I guess I just don’t know what that feels like," he admitted, his voice softer now, his gaze dropping to the blanket covering him, as he fought that temptation.

You reached out, running your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. "Well, now you do. You’re stuck with me, even when you’re sick."

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that shook his chest and made him wince slightly from his sore throat. "I think I’m okay with that."

And just like that, Seungmin felt something crack open inside him -a part of himself that had been so tightly guarded, so afraid of being hurt. But with you, he felt safe. Safe enough to lean into your touch, to lay in your lap to let himself be cared for without fear of what you might want in return.

I think I'm in love.

No...I am in love.

As you continued to softly play with his hair, Seungmin’s eyes fluttered closed.

He realized that this was what he had been missing -this golden touch that wasn’t about wealth or status. It was about love, about care, about someone being there for him even when things weren’t perfect or glamorous.

He had spent so long being afraid of turning everything around him into something superficial, something gilded and lifeless. But with you, it wasn’t about gold or riches.

It was about your golden touch -the one that brought him comfort, warmth, and something more valuable than anything money could buy.

When Seungmin finally drifted off into a fevered sleep, the corners of his lips were curled into the softest of smiles. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly cared for.

He truly felt loved.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[bunnys-kisses]

Hellooo!! literally love your works, can i have ‘Banana & Chocolate muffins’ ‘Red velvet cupcakes’ and ‘mince pie’ with a side of ‘bubble tea’ for either Carlos Sainz or Toto Wolff!

Love your works btw! absolutely loving the bakery!🫶🫶❤️

bakery menu

want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of items to choose from and i hope you find something that you like! i love going through these requests and ya'll are some hungry rabbits! so thank you! and enjoy! for this one i chose toto wolff (because i am a slut for toto wolff), but if you really want a carlos fic, feel free to submit another order! thank you and enjoy!!

banana & chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + red velvet cupcakes ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!toto, age gap (20s/50s), daddy kink, daddy dom relationship, mean!toto, dirty talk/degrading language, wife!reader

jealousy was an ugly thing. toto wolff thought he was too old to be jealous. after everything he had and had done, there was no need to be jealous. he was a powerful in the world of formula one, most men would kill, lie and steal for power he had.

so why be jealous anything? most were jealous of him. for his status, his accomplishments, his looks. even into his fifties he could make a young buck feel envy. he even had the prettiest little wife in the entire world. nothing should be toto wolff jealous.

but jealousy doesn't run on logic does it?

you had taken a keen interest in formula one after you got married to toto. you thought it was important that you understood on a deeper level. this was your husband's entire world! of course you should be at least a little interested in what the world was about!

but it felt so silly asking questions to your husband. especially when you asked the same questions a few times over (the sport was a little confusing... what do you mean there are four kinds of tires? and what did they all do again?). so you confided in one of your husband's best drivers, george. it also helped that you two were closer in age.

"toto is looking at us." george said as you sat with him before the race. the rest of mercedes was bustling around you two, but you could clearly see your husband. it didn't help that he was often a head taller than most.

you smiled and waved at him, "he's probably checking in on you. you have to start racing soon."

george wasn't too sure. he looked at his boss before he looked back at you, "usually he doesn't look at me like a disappointment father..." he didn't want to think too hard about the age gap between you and toto. he thought you were nice and liked you and he liked working under toto, so he didn't want to get involved.

toto came over and sat down beside you, leaving you in between him and george. he stretched an arm across the back of the couch you were all on and crossed one leg over the other.

he leaned into your personal space like he owned it, but instead of looking at his wife. he looked at his driver, "you're on soon. head to the garage."

george knew when it was time to high tail it. he wasn't a dense man. he nodded and got up. he looked at you, "i'll see you after."

you waved as you leaned up against your larger husband, "good luck! win for us today!" then gave a smile that would make the sun jealous. just like your husband was jealous of george occupying your attention.

once he was out of sight, you turned to toto and placed a manicured hand on his chest and leaned up to him. you maintained eye contact, "i was having an engaging conversation."

toto gave a short chuckle then leaned into your ear. his presence was overwhelming. the warmth and smell of him overtook your senses. you clutched onto him as he spoke in your ear, "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them." the daddy-little dynamic you started with never truly went away with marriage.

you cheeks felt warm as you looked at him, "daddy..." testing the waters of what this could mean. were you dealing with the daddy dom you dealt with for years or the husband you had been married to for a few months now.

he leaned in and rubbed his thumb against your cheek. the calloused pad of his thumb made you run a little hotter. oh, he was jealous. maybe getting involved with an older man who had a jealous streak like the grey in his hair, but you couldn't help but grow a little hotter. even in front of all these people.

in fairness, when people saw the both of you together. the age difference, the size difference, the differences in aesthetics. it was very obvious that he took a more leading role in the relationship. and you with that shiny pink lip gloss and fluttering eyelashes were just happy to be there.

so toto's large hand on your thigh made it appear small as he said, "you're always so good for me, schatzi. my perfect wife. don't make me worried."

you giggled, "i was right. you are jealous."

he simply replied, "i'm not jealous." and you knew that tonight in the hotel room was going to be interesting. you watched him get up, even making a small grunting noise either due to the dull ache in his knee or the hard on in his pants.

during the race, you sat pretty in the back. your curious eyes scanned the screens as hamilton and russell fought their way across the track. there was a lot you needed to know. and while you couldn't see your husband's face from the desk he was seated at. you could feel the tension in your shoulders.

while you were terrible at racing, you were good at one thing. making your beloved toto feel all better after a race. you left the track early, claiming to have a migraine but told toto's assistant to not tell your husband till after the race. you didn't need him to worry more, especially since your migraine was an excuse to go back to the hotel. even though your husband could be a green eyed monster, you still wanted him to feel better.

so one bottle of wine later and a soft pair of panties and sports bra later. you were waiting in the bedroom on your phone for your lover. when the hotel room door opened, you sat up in bed and scooted down to the foot where you sat there waiting for him.

the planes of your body on full display as you heard his heavy footsteps. his voice called out in the room, "schatzi?"

"in the bedroom, daddy!" you chirped.

you heard him get his shoes off and drop his bags. he then headed towards the bedroom. he opened the door fully and drank in the sight of you. while you thought it would've eased his jealousy a little bit, or at least the stress of the race. it only fueled it in his gut.

"where's your ring, schatzi?" he asked.

you perked up, "on the nightstand! i didn't want to lose it in bed or something happen to it!" even though it didn't have the biggest diamond in the world (per your request), you still held immense value to it.

he simply said, "put it on. you're my wife after all." his voice domineering and it made heat pool in your gut as you watched him get undressed. he watched your swallow as you got his slacks off.

you nodded, "yes daddy." then climbed up the bed on your hands and knees to grab it off the nightstand. and while you thought that you'd be in that position for a few moments. the weight of your over six foot tall husband left you pinned on the bed like that.

at least your ring was still on.

"whore." he said, as he rubbed his barely clothed cock up against the curve of your ass, "i see how they look at you. my employees drooling like dogs because you're on the track." he pressed into you further, "dirty, dirty."

you swallowed, face pressed into the covers, "i'm not a whore." you tried to defend yourself. but that was a hard case to make when your pussy was slick and a man much large and much older had you pinned down on the bed.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said, words like venom and it made your heart skip a bear. he got his briefs off and left nude before he started to undress what little you had on.

you squirmed a bit to help him get the panties off and let him rub his hard cock up against your wet pussy. you felt your cheeks heat up as you laid under him. and you yelped when he groped at your ass cheek.

"see, this is how i like you, angel." he said with a kiss against your temple, "you can be a good girl for me. you know i love you." he felt you shift under him as he placed another kiss against you. your pulse quickened on his lips as he sank his cock into your sweet, messy hole.

you felt good, as always, around him. even when he hand his hands tightly on you and his weight keeping your pinned to the bed. he moved against you. he could hear your sweet moans. you always made the cutest noises, especially when you pouted between moans. he knew you were pouting against the pillow as he fucked you.

it was the kind of fuck that got the envy out. reminded you who your husband was and that it sated the monster in toto's mind that you weren't going anywhere. how could you'd have the scent of cum and sex on your skin. everyone would know who toto was.

he loomed over you as he moved against you. his pace was fast and his thrusts were hard. it made your back arched, you could feel your heartbeat in your cunt as he fucked against you.

"pretty little treasure." he panted as he leaned in to kiss you on your neck. he loved the feeling of you in his arms. he groaned against your skin.

you replied, "toto, please. daddy. i love you." there was a whine in your tone as your hips lifted a little higher. you squeezed your eyes as you panted heavily into the covers.

"i love you too." he responded. his voice was honey in your mind. he heard you moan into the covers. it excited him. it made him feel hotter as he moved against you. you were his precious in his eyes, even when you made him jealous.

he may be green with envy, but it was to let the green eyed monster talk when he was so deep inside of you. when he rubbed up against some of your best parts. the parts that made you curl up and moan.

and when you said you loved him. it drove him crazy.

he panted heavily against you, paired with your loud moans. even when you whimpered daddy, it all went to his cock. you were a live wire, treasure.

you were running hot and your pants were heavy against the covers. you felt your orgasm stir in your gut. your heart hammered in your chest. sating the envy with your slick cunt.

he came first and stayed on top of you. even though he came, he was still hard. his thrusts continued and came quickly a second time because of the over stimulation and heat in his body before you came as well. your orgasm made him pant heavily into your ear. he left wet kisses on the shell as he rutted against you as you rode out your orgasm.

with two loads of cum deep in your sweet pussy, he didn't need to worry about you running off with someone else. and thus, the jealousy was settled in his brain. he laid out beside you and pulled you into his arms. his slick cock up against your back.

you were both a heated, panting mess as you felt the after shivers of climax. your brain felt fried as you laid out beside him. you loved the feeling and melted into your husband's touch.

"mm. daddy." you said.

he kissed the apple of your cheek and replied, yes, schatzi."

you yawned and turned over to bury your face in his chest. you held onto him as you said softly, "you're a jealous old man." <3

[moonstruckme]

Hellooo!!! I have a Spencer Reid request, but feel free to ignore it if you're not up for it hahaha! I was thinking about BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc! I think it could be so so cute, especially if they don't realize they're doing it and the team noticing it for them? Thank you so much, I love everything that you write 🤍

Thanks gorgeous!

cw: discussion of tongue preservation methods? sorry in advance

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 560 words

You gaze lovingly at your boyfriend as he goes into detail about how to preserve severed tongues. 

“So the fact that this unsub is purchasing equipment actually shows a lack of medical expertise, since he seems to be going overboard with preservation measures.” Spencer’s nodding as he talks, a tiny scrunch between his brows. “It’s pretty silly actually. It’s probably only a matter of time until he figures out he just needs to keep them on ice.” 

Rossi’s eyebrows raise, and Morgan chuckles quietly. 

Spencer blinks, eyes refocusing as he comes out of his brain and back into the conference room. “What?”

“Did you just say the unsub was silly?” Prentiss asks, and his eyebrows refurrow. 

“Did I?” 

“Let’s stay on task.” Hotch is all business. “If he were as inexperienced as that would suggest, he probably wouldn’t make clean cuts. This skill level indicates some level of expertise.” 

“Well, actually, I’m not sure it would necessarily be medical expertise,” you say, cringing at your own knowledge. “The process he’s using doesn’t sound dissimilar to how I think they preserve cow tongues. Maybe he’s preparing them to eat.” 

You’re doing your best not to squirm, and Spencer can likely tell, placing a slender hand on your leg under the table. “That’s a good point,” he says, “he could have experience as a chef or in the meatpacking business.” 

Prentiss frowns. “Yeah, but how many chefs know how to preserve tongues?” 

“Maybe we could start by looking into restaurants that serve those kinds of delicacies,” JJ suggests. 

“Good.” Hotch closes his binder, standing. “Garcia, you get started on that and we’ll touch base with you from Atlanta. Wheels up in two hours.” 

“Yes sir.” Garcia looks a bit green—you sympathize—as she hurries out of the conference room. 

Morgan’s giving you one of his knowing looks, collecting his things extra slow, until finally you sigh. “What?” 

“Well, actually,” he mimics, lips curving into a grin. “You and pretty boy must be getting serious if you’re taking on his signature phrase.” 

You roll your eyes, but Spencer smiles, looping his crossbody bag over his head. “Actually, language style matching is only one form of mirroring. If you’re paying attention, people who spend a lot of time together can mirror each other down to their breathing rhythms or how many times they blink within a minute.” 

You look at him interestedly. “So what does that mean? Just that we’re spending too much time together?” 

The look Spencer gives you threatens to liquefy you with its softness. “There’s never too much time.” 

Morgan’s laughter is hooting, and you want to find that as cheesy as he does, you really do, but the place within yourself where you usually reach for sarcasm has gone mushy and useless. You rearrange some things in your bag unnecessarily, head down to hide your blush.

“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 

This would normally be your opportunity to think of a retort, but luckily you don’t have to. JJ pops back into the room, looking frowny. 

“We just got a call from Atlanta. The unsub killed again overnight.” 

Spencer grows serious. “He’s accelerating?” 

“Yup.” She nods. “Hotch wants us there now, so it’s wheels up in twenty.” 

You and Spencer nod in tandem. “Sick.”

Morgan’s eyes roll straight up to the ceiling.

[avis-writeshq]

hellooo <3

can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok “calling my bf my husband to see his reaction” thxx!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650

Aaron’s confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. He’s well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet – it’s actually how Penelope set the two of you up – but he’s never really been in any of the videos you’ve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through. 

“Are we going somewhere after this?” He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair. 

“No, honey, I just wanted to dress up.” You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. 

He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. “This seems like a plot.”

“No plot,” you laugh again and turn to your camera. “Guys, my husband thinks that I’m plotting something. Can you believe that?”

Aaron’s brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. He’s staring at you like you’ve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden there’s a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.

“You’re beautiful.”

You’re giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. You’re still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments. 

“Was this all just for a video?” Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel.”

“No, it isn’t! It’s just a silly video, Aaron, it’s not cruel,” You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. “You reacted really nicely though, I’m sure the video will do well.”

“Do other people not react well?” He asks, concerned. He doesn’t really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them ‘husband’, especially when he can’t imagine ever having a life without you in it. 

You shrug as you respond, “one guy didn’t let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he ‘isn’t her husband’. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didn’t seem like a joke. I don’t know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.”

His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. “I don’t understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.”

That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. You’re beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face. 

“We should go somewhere nice,” He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. “You’re too pretty to go to a drive-through.”

You’re laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You don’t know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the drivers’ seat. 

Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[leonw4nter]

Hellooo, may I request reader dating a Spiderman! Leon (I'm such as a sucker for re2 Leon and the thought of him as spiderman) hcs??? He thinks he does a good enough job covering up his superhero identity, but unfortunately for him reader had that figured out for quite a while. He's not as sneaky/careful as he thinks he is hehe

So If You Need A Hero, Just Look In The Mirror!

[Spiderman!RE2!Leon x GN!Reader]

Leon has long been Spiderman before he decided to date you, hiding this aspect of him when he was courting you to let him be your boyfriend. He felt guilty that he had to hide his masked persona from you but he knows that it’s for the best in order to keep everyone close to him safe. An ordinary 21 year-old officer in blues by day, a web-shooting hero swinging from the buildings of Raccoon City by night.

You know that Spiderman exists and you admire him, doodling his mask on the corners of blank papers when the day is slow and idle; what you don’t know is that your boyfriend is Spiderman. Yet even without that knowledge, you consider yourself incredibly lucky to have someone so gentle and kind like he is; not everyone has a boyfriend that is patient and slow to anger.

You both would schedule dates and Leon’s schedule is free when all of a sudden, he has to go somewhere and reschedule the date. He would always appear sheepish and regretful when he had to break the news to you, especially when you were so eager to try out the dishes at the restaurant you two had reserved. You asked about it and he always responded with “it’s complicated” in a bashful and silent voice so you thought that it had something to do with a difficult family situation or a tough work environment. He usually didn’t share about them and you didn’t prod for more information, offering comfort and reassurance instead yet you still wondered what disrupts his evenings like this. You were confused about this habit but not overly suspicious.

You noticed that Leon would frequently come home with small cuts and bruises to the face, arms, hands, and torso.

“Leon, what are they making you do at work?! Why do you always come home battered in bruises?!” You exclaim as you look at the cut in the high point of Leon’s cheek, light pink and still bleeding slightly. His face is on your palms, tilted to the side as you try to get a better look at his injuries.

“You know how crime is now, they’re getting more violent,” Leon explains as he tries to ease your worries. “A few delinquents got me but I’m still in one piece.”

“But still!” You reasoned as worry creased your forehead. “Aren’t there other officers with you too?”

“Yes there are and they’re just as injured as I am,” he responds. He really wants to give you the honest explanation of his wounds– the fact that they’re from fighting crime as a hero named after an arachnid and not because of a rough encounter with some petty criminals– but he can’t; it’ll put you in harm’s way. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I didn’t graduate at the top of my academy for nothing, did I?”

You sigh and nod, but not before you look Leon sternly in the eyes with a pout. “But that doesn’t mean you’re totally invincible, Leon.”

He smiles, listening to you scold him on and on while you dab ointment on his wounds.

Leon often catches things as they fall mid-air and reacts faster than the average person, which both his partner and coworkers notice. The station attributes the replacement of the old bookshelf due to his sharp senses, having informed the station that they had to find a new one to take its place. Leon simply heard a tiny, faint creak of one of the planks holding up dense files which meant that about any time now, if they didn’t take any action, it would collapse and cause a mess. He always explained it with him having a sharp sense of hearing and being agile but in reality, it’s because of his heightened senses that he developed after the bite.

Whenever the news of Spiderman comes in the news, he’s always ready to drop whatever he was doing and see himself on the TV by footage of people who've seen him with the mask and suit. He watches intently, worried that his identity would be leaked and even a single frame of his face would be identified even if he makes sure that his mask always stays on. You chalk up his keen fascination with the hero as admiration and being a fan-boy, chuckling at the sight of seeing his boyfriend look so serious as he watches the friendly neighbourhood hero save the day once again.

You went home early one day, pleased that your boss decided to close up hours ahead of your usual closing time. When you got home, the house was dark save for the small beam of light peeking through the gaps at the bottom of the storage closet’s door. Interested, you walked close and heard some thudding and heavy breathing coming from the closed door. You swiftly turn the knob and walk in to see Leon standing half naked in his boxer shorts and a red something bunched out behind him on the floor. New bruises and scratches adorned his muscular torso, yet to be cleaned and tended to by your boyfriend in front of you.

“Leon?!” You bellowed. “What the fuck were you doing?!”

His hands come up to cover the bruises, looking at you with a terrified expression as a flush blooms in his cheeks and chest.

“Listen, I can explain–”

“Are you cheating on me?! Is that a girl’s dress behind you–”

“No, sweetheart, please– I’m not cheating on you or anything like that! You know I’d never do that to you–”

“I’m giving you 3 minutes to talk, Kennedy. Start. Now.”

Leon fumbles around, trying to find something– anything– to cover up with but he gives up, nearly bare as he tries to survive the crushing pressure of the situation. He starts off by picking up the red something you eyed earlier, holding it out properly so you can truly see that it is not a dress but a bodysuit with details resembling webs.

“I’m… I’m Spiderman.”

“I have a mental facility on speed dial–”

“No!” He turns his wrist to face skyward and shoots a web that aimed for your phone, snatching it out of your grasp. Your cellphone is now in his hand. “Is that enough proof or do I also need to lay eggs like a spider does so you’ll believe me.”

“No!” Now it’s your turn to explain, swatting him on the shoulder as you take the phone back. “Fine, fine. I believe you. But I did have the idea that you’re him for a long time now.”

The color from Leon’s face drained again, heart threatening to burst inside his chest.

“How… how…” he quietly asked as he tried to inspect your expression, trying to name an emotion based on your face.

“I mean… when you’re suddenly gone in the evening when we go on dates, you say you’re going to the RPD but you don’t rush home to get your bag with your permit and badges and stuff. When I get home and you’re still gone, it’s just sitting at the foot of your bed. You also always smell like something burnt or maybe rusty, which you don’t normally smell like when you get home from work. And don’t get me started on your injuries– they’re way too much for a police officer who apprehends petty criminals from time to time.”

The blond is at a loss for words, mouth bobbing up and down but with no words coming out.

“You look like a fish,” you comment. He blinks to ground himself and tries to calm down.

“I thought I did a good job at hiding it,” he softly mutters.

“For a while, I thought you were cheating on me and then I thought you were some gruesome murderer or something.”

“What?! No!” He exclaims, his hands waving to dismiss the idea. “Cheat?! Murder?! No, I’d never!”

“Good. So… you really are Spiderman.”

“Yeah… kind of relieved that this is out now, though I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

You displayed some coldness towards your boyfriend for a little bit, letting him know that hiding things from you isn’t good and that he should’ve been open but you cut him some slack, acknowledging that he did it for your well-being and that it’s also hard on his part too because the weight of his double life can be crushingly heavy.

Leon’s become more comfortable, sometimes cracking a spider-related joke or two with you. Of course, he made you swear that you’ll be the only one to know who Spiderman really is and you promised– for the safety of everyone involved with Leon. Now with this information, sometimes you buy little spider-related trinkets or some Spiderman merchandise that stores sell to fluster him.

He’s decided to take it upon himself to teach you some self-defense moves in case a villain decides to use you to their evil plans in order to taunt Leon, a situation both of you hope will never happen.

One day, you asked Leon to wear the suit for you in your shared apartment. After locking all doors and shutting all blinds, he walks out of the storage closet he keeps his costume in and appears in front of you. He poses first and climbs to the ceiling, hanging upside down as he looks at you. Feeling a little daring that day, you ask if you can lift his mask up to the bridge of his nose and place a careful kiss on his lips as he’s still upside down, planning to ask you if you two can have upside down kisses more often after this one.

NOTE - Hi y'all! I'm back again (for now mwahaha) :D Thank you to graveyardgrrrrrl for requesting, hope you like this one 🤩 I'm so happy that I got to finish one request already, this one has been marinating in my doc for about a month now so I hope the wait is worth it! Thankful to the 4 hour free period I have to be able to cook this up >:) I've been up to a lot of things-- adjusting to a new school with a system different from my old school (I already lost aura multiple times...) and reading so I've been quite busy as I tried to come up with ideas for fics. I hope everyone's doing well, you got this and I believe in you :)) Anyway, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <333333333333 UUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The blue web divider is made by @adornedwithlight , the images are from Pinterest.

[echobx]

Hellooo i heard you want some jj requests!

What about one day reader come to enemy!jj because she has nowhere to go and he finds her all bruised up at his front door, he thinks about it for a while and finally let her in to clean her up and comfort her, then let her sleep at his <33

Thank you mwahhh

Bruised - JJ Maybank × fem!reader

warnings: angst, mention of abuse, bickering, patching up, smoking (weed), hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 1.7k

author's note: no thoughts, head empty. just the fact that tumblr fucks over my formatting once again.

You can feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins, keeping you on both feet just enough to make it to the next best place you know. Not like you particularly wanted to get beaten and stranded on the side of the road, having to walk as much as it was possible, towards the house of your one true enemy. Potentially not your only enemy, but the only one who has never ever pretended to like you. The hatred is very much mutual, and you are happy about it being like that. It's a safe and steady relationship. A relationship that purely consists of you throwing shade at him, and him throwing shade at you. Verbally very abusive from the outside, but it's comfortable to you. You know where you are at with him, and he's the only one like that in your life. 

That’s why, it’s no a surprise to you when JJ starts to curse you out as soon as he catches a glimpse of you, and the fact that you keep coming closer enrages him more. But the facade starts to slip when you do too, planting yourself in the dry grass in front of his porch and nearly losing consciousness. 

“What the actual fuck, y/n,” JJ hisses, but he still bends down to pick you up and carry you inside. You choose to not hold onto him, if he drops you it will at least be on brand, and you don't run the risk of having to look into his stupidly blue eyes. 

JJ lays you down on his couch. His eyebrows furrowed while his eyes seem to scan over you, and he keeps on shaking his head in disapproval. 

“Who did this?” he growls, angrier than you have ever heard him. 

“Don't start, I just want to go home,” you press out through gritted teeth, but when you try to swing your legs around you can't even move them a single inch. It's like you're paralyzed and panic starts to rise in you. ‘One toe after the other,’ you tell yourself and force your body to obey you. It takes some effort and a lot of concentration, but you find relief in the fact that you are not at all paralyzed, and just extremely exhausted physically. 

“You're not going anywhere like this,” JJ insists after watching you carefully. 

“You're the worst,” you sigh and close your eyes. Half an hour ago you had been thrown out of a moving car, thirty minutes before that your (now ex-) boyfriend had started to yell at you. He had accused you of cheating on him, you hadn't, and then decided it granted him a free pass in nearly killing you. 

“Who did this?” JJ hisses, and you can only laugh at how hilarious it sounds. He cares about who hurt you. Oh, but he doesn't do it because he cares about you. No, JJ Maybank only cares about who hurts you because he is sure to ever be the only one who gets to hurt you. And if not, he at least wants to be the one who hurts you most. 

“Why? You're gonna go give him a prize?” 

“You look half dead,” JJ notes and sits down on the coffee table, eyes fixed on your face, waiting for you to open your eyes, but you can't, fearing to cry in front of him. 

“I feel worse,” you deadpan and hear him get up and walk away. 

Even though you are his sworn enemy, JJ can't stand to see you in pain, especially you. He doesn't like that you look weak like that. He doesn't like that someone hurt you worse than he ever thought necessary. He needs to patch you up, not because he wants to help, but because he doesn't want to lose the only constant in his hectic life. 

“Can you sit up?” JJ asks, and you open your eyes to see him with the first aid kit in his hand. 

“You gonna play nurse, Maybank?” you chuckle, but a stinging pain makes you shriek instead. 

“Sounds good, you don't even need my help,” he remarks with the heaviest sarcasm you have ever heard of him. He loops his arms around your legs and swings them around, forcing you to sit. 

“It's not funny,” you mutter, and he rolls his eyes, silently getting to work on patching you up. 

First your arm and legs, cleaning cuts and making sure they don't need stitches. Then your stomach and waist, lifting your shirt and making sure that he doesn't touch you too much. Touching you would go too far, he doesn't let himself, and you are glad for it. 

But something shifts when he gets up to your face, softly pressing the fresh, warm and wet washcloth to your bleeding lip. His eyes are darker than you know them. Maybe he is actually, genuinely, secretly worried about your health and beauty, but that can't be true, you think.

“Will you tell me now?” JJ asks while staring at you, deep into your battered heart.

“My boyfriend, ex, I guess. He threw me out of the car while driving, said I was cheating. I know I'm a bitch, but I'm not a cheater,” you explain quickly and JJ nods. 

“I know, about the not cheating. Can't even count how many times my ex said I was, and then she did- Doesn't matter,” he lets out a deep sigh before starting to put the kit back together. 

“Do you have painkillers?” you ask and he shakes his head. 

“Weed only.” 

“I forgot, you like the smelly shit,” you roll your eyes. There is no use in trying to pretend that you like him now just because he has helped you, maybe you hate him more because he has let himself be vulnerable by taking you in and caring. A mistake, surely. You would never do it, you're sure of it. 

“It's either sitting here in pain and being a total bitch once again, or taking the offer,” JJ says before pulling a dime bag from his pocket. 

“So?” JJ asks after you pull your head back up from the bong and breathe out the thick air. Your mind is hazy and everything seems to be covered in a blue filter. 

“Good shit,” you sigh, your head falling back against the couch cushion. 

“You should go to the cops,” JJ says, his eyes raking over your body. He has never let himself see you as anything but his enemy, although he isn't sure how it even started. The feud has been going for too long for him to remember. 

“And what are they gonna do?” you scoff. 

“I don't know, restraining order or something. Charge him for assault. You could've died.”

You turn your head to look at him, messy blonde strands falling into his face. He's actually not that ugly, unlike what you keep telling people so they'll stay away from him. 

“Man, I wish I had, so I wouldn't have to be here with you,” you snarl, but it feels wrong to even think it, much so to say those things. 

“Why do we hate each other again?” JJ asks straight out and you snort.  

“You don't remember?” 

“Been too long,” he shrugs. 

“You called me ugly and said I was the most boring and shallow person you had ever met, and all of that just so you didn't have to kiss me for spin the fucking bottle,” you say, and it seems to dawn on him, a memory coming back and lighting up his eyes. 

“We were ten, and I didn't wanna lose my first kiss to you,” JJ laughs, but you don't think it's funny. 

“You humiliated me in front of all my friends,” you glare at him, but he's still laughing too hard. “Stop mocking me, asshole,” you snarl, and he stops to look at you. 

“You hate me this much because of that?” 

“Yes. And the shit you did over the years,” you add, and he cocks a brow up. 

“The shit I did over the years as a direct response to you being a bitch.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter and go to take another hit. 

“I didn't think it would hurt you that much, I'm sorry,” JJ apologizes, and you nearly choke on your own breath. 

“You what?” 

“I'm not saying it again.” 

“Do you still think I'm shallow and boring?” you ask, and he shakes his head. 

“No, just mean and an asshole.” 

“I can live with that.” 

“Good. You should go to sleep now, it's late,” JJ says, and you turn your head to look out the window, and to your surprise it's actually pitch black out. How did that happen? How much did you smoke?

“I don't think a couch is helpful with your injuries,” JJ says and gets up, getting ready to lift you up, but you slap his hands away. 

“I can walk myself,” you grumble but as soon as you are up, your legs give out from under you, and he catches you quickly. 

“Can I do this now or are you gonna protest on every fucking step?” He's annoyed by your stubbornness. Yet this time, even just for the short moment, you place your arms around his neck, eyes gazing into his as he carries you to his room and lays you down on his bed. 

It smells overwhelmingly like JJ, but you don't hate it, you like how familiar it feels. 

“I'm gonna go sleep on the couch,” he announces and turns to walk away. 

“Wait!” you gasp and surprise yourself with it maybe even more than you do JJ.

“What do you need?” 

“Stay, please. I don't like falling asleep on my own,” you whisper, and he nods, walking around the bed and sitting down by your side. 

“That all?” JJ asks and you nod. 

“Thank you for saving my shitty life,” you whisper and lean up to peck his cheek. It's a polite gesture, nothing more, he tells himself and you do too. But deep down you know there is a reason why hating him comes so easy to you. After all, hate and love are twin flames, no matter how hard either of you try to deny it. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Entity + [G.N] Fastfood Worker Reader

Why the ice cream machine at your job doesn't work anymore. Aka a shitpost made with a little too much effort.

[Suggestive]

"Y/n! Machine's broke!"

"So-?"

"..Can you fix it?"

You shove your earpiece into the hands of your coworker. As the person who's been on board the longest aside from your manager, wherever they are, and just sane enough to tell the tale the recent hires often ran to you for help with the issue of the day. Or hour, if you're really unlucky- By now, this place has broken you down enough that you simply carry through the task at hand under the guide of ancient instruction manuals you found lying around. You were used to doing things about your pay grade, but this one was personal.

The ice cream was what kept you pushing. Arguably the only thing edible on the menu, with enough taste to back that claim up. Rich, creamy, and a hundred percent free for members of the staff. At the start of your break or during the end of your shift you'd grab a cone to relish in the fruit of your hard labor with frozen goodness.

You walk over the kitchen side of the room. The evening rush was dying down and it was just you and your coworker today so that only left you and whoever was sitting atop the machine you were sent to fix in the area.

"Hellooo there~"

Maybe it's time you go check on the drive in window. Gets lonely this time of night.

The intruder kicks their feet against the side of the machine, humming along happily to the beat. You recognize them as the coworker who quit just the other day, but something's off. Their head bends at an odd angle to get a better look at you from their position; eyes milky white rather than the baby blues remember and their skin ghostly pale, lines of foam frothed in the corner of their lips. Their uniform seemed dated with the outfit painted white as apposed to the typical burnt red and the patch on their shirt depicting the pair of horns floating over an ice cream cone. You can see something roll back on their ashen tongue as they speak again.

"Missed you today."

"You quit four days ago."

"This...." They look at their badge. "Teri individual certainly did. I on the other hand have been here for quite a while and probably the first to see what's so great about you. Nice warm hands and willing to take it straight from the nozzle."

You knew that twenty wasn't worth taking that bet. "That was one time."

"Seven, actually. Believe me I kept track.

"Whatever. Can you move so I can fix the machine?"

"That's a nice looking cone right there."

You follow their eyes. There's an ice cream cone on the counter within arm's reach - topped with the perfect swirl that put your attempts to a murky grave. "What about it?"

"Go on- Taste it. You deserve a little something special after all your effort."

"I really have to fix the machine..."

"Do this and it'll run good as new. I promise."

You pick up the cone. Your "coworker" straights up like a post and place their hands between their legs as they lean in, dipping so far it looked like they were ready to pounce. Tossing them a sideeye, you course your tongue upside the peaked curves of the treat. Probably not the best course of action as you catch the moment their soul figuratively leaves their body. Still, their stare held no weight compared to the fluffy mount of heaven melting on your tongue. The best soft serve you've had by far. You nurse the tip, wanting to savor the treat-

"Keeping going."

But you haven't the time for such pleasantries. Sweeping the cream to the back of your mouth with your tongue, the cone's quickly disappears pass your lips. The ice cream drips and dribbles down your chin, creating suction between the pause you take between licks. Your coworker focuses intensely on the sneaks of the pink muscle lapping at the dessert, practically crushing their hands with their thighs. That foam hanging from their maw bubblish vigorously and glows a haunting blue as they hiss through their teeth. The machine begins to shake.

"Stick it out...."

You stick your tongue out, padding a little too hard against the cone. What's left of the scoop breaks off and runs down the back of your hand, caught by your mouth before it could hit the floor. You shutter as some misses and goes down your shirt. Your coworker doesn't have the dignity to try hiding the moan rippling through their worn throat. Their head rolls back as does their eyes, fog trailing into the air as they claw at their neck. The machine's lights flicker rapidly between red and green, melted ice cream overflowing the edge of the table and onto the floor disbursing through the pipes in thick, fluid streams.

"Yes- you absolute tease. I've waited to see this for so long. Always leaving right when things get good. You don't know how happy I get seeing you every during your breaks. You always look so upset, but then- you come to me..."

You force swallow the ice cream in your mouth, fighting the the ache traveling from jaw to your brain. You briefly tongue the crater left in the cone forgetting about your company momentarily. Realization snapping back, you bite around the shell and shovel it in your mouth once it able. Everything was sticky. Your face, hands, upper chest and mostly uniform.

Your coworker hops off the machine, making quick work of shoving your fingers in their mouth. The cavity and their tongue was wet and slick, but in a way it felt like putting your hand in a cooler with some kind of frozen serpant lying in wait. They clean your fingers in earnest, getting through each nook and even beneath your nails. Doing the same with your opposite, they finally suckle on the collar of your shirt as if to clean it just the same. Their teeth ghost a mark over your skin. You shove them off you.

"That's enough."

"For now." Your coworker surprises you with one more lick scoring the sticky mess staining your cheek. The tip of their tongue manages to hit your lips. With that same domestic flare, they grab the tail end of your apron and use it to wipe up the remaining slick, smiling as if they'd be waiting for you to come home from your busy life all day.

"I hope we see each other again soon. I mean we will, but maybe next time I'll put on something more... comfort. Take care, gorgeous."

Your coworker winks - wandering off towards the back with one lingering smile. They blow a kiss as their body dips behind the door.

"Hey, Y/n did you get the machine fixed?"

Your pants legs sag turning in the flood below. "When you think about it do we really need ice cream?"

[ellecdc]

Hellooo, so I see you opened your requests 🥸 I am a new member of the The Marauders fandom and you have been my go to and all time favorite writer. First want to thank you for all the effort you must put in for us goblins. I am also very new to even really interacting on tumblr outside of the anonymous option. So hellooo! Any way onto the request if you ever feel like it, I get horrible migraines and to deal I tend to look really goofy with a compression cap and ice face mask on and during my recent episode I couldn’t help but think about how any of your lovey boys would react to their partner looking crazy with all that gear on 🙃. This is weirdly specific so ignore if it doesn’t sing for you. But thanks again for the art you share!❣️🌿

hi sweets! first of all: WELCOME TO THE MARAUDERS FANDOM!?!? please help yourself to any seat and don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have (there's a lot of complicated shipnames, canon vs. fanon theories to learn). second of all: OMG are you kidding me!? well thank you, that's quite an honour, but feel free to check out these authors I mentioned previously. thirdly: I love you little goblins 😭😭😭😭

also, since you didn't specify which marauders boy - I opted to give you all of the ones (that I write for) as headcanons 🫶

How various Marauders era boys would react to your migraine get-up

James Potter:

he'd open the door to the bedroom to find you laying there, prone in your pain

immediately "oh angel!!!!" causing you to wince in pain and shush him

he'd acquiesce but he'd whimper quietly as if your pain was causing him pain

he'd start flitting around the room: pulling the blackout curtains shut tightly, placing a glass of water and some pain meds beside you

you'd finally have to banish him from the room, though, on account of his various noises (poor dude couldn't manage silence if his life depended on it)

when you started to feel better, however, you'd take the sleep mask off but not the cap and head out to the living space to find James had closed every curtain in the whole flat, he had turned on a humidifier just on the off chance it helps relax you, and started a pot of tea for you

"I've got the hot pack here if you'd like me to warm it up for you?" he'd offer quietly, still looking particularly pained at your sorry state

"Can I just have a hug?" you'd ask pathetically and he'd coo (quietly) and embrace you gently as if you were about to break

"I'm sorry your partner looks so silly when you come home to them." you laughed, thinking about the ice/compression cap you were still wearing

"you've never looked more beautiful"

Sirius Black:

I believe he'd get very nervous to see someone in pain whether it be physically or mentally - but particularly a pain that was mental or internal (like a migraine vs a cut etc) because he wouldn't know how to fix it and he'd feel useless

He would whisper a cautious "hey baby" as he entered and move so slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible "what happened?"

he knows nothing happened, just that you're hurting: but again, he doesn't know how to fix this and he hates it

"What do you need?" he'd ask as he'd lie down cautiously beside you, itching to reach out but not knowing if it would be okay.

"Nothing." you'd mutter, and immediately feel bad for being short with him. "nothing, I'm sorry. just some time." you'd correct, reaching your hand tentatively across the space to touch his hand, which he'd quickly albeit gently take in his own

"okay." he'd say simply

you waited for the bed to move to signal his departure, but he never left.

he just laid there with your hand in his, watching you quietly

you wouldn't notice this in your state, but he was taking dramatic breaths for your benefit: deep breaths in, holding, and deep breaths out, silently encouraging you to align your breathing with his, which you did subconsciously

you'd wake up later in much the same way - him still on his side watching you (or perhaps he fell asleep too) and your hand still in his

he'd apologize to you as if your pain was somehow his fault, but it was because he felt helpless when you needed him

you'd thank him for his help and he'd relax immediately

Remus Lupin:

Remus is no friggen stranger to chronic pain and flare ups

he wouldn't even say anything, he'd just adjust his footing so he made as little noise as possible

he'd gently press a kiss to your shoulder, to make sure you knew he was here (though he knew with your head the way it was, you would have likely heard his keys all the way down the hall of the apartment building

he'd make himself busy in the flat - soup ready for when you woke up, tea ready to be brewed should you want some, lights off, curtains closed

he'd come by in a bit and quietly tell you to sit up, helping you replace your no longer cold ice mask and cap with new ones

you'd pathetically ask him if he would stay and he'd breathe out in relief because really - that's what he's wanted from the beginning

Regulus Black:

"what's this? what happened?" he'd ask urgently, thinking you'd been hurt or something

"sh! I have a migraine" you'd moan back.

he'd make a pitying tsk sound and make for you

totally babying behaviour "what do you need? do you want food? do you want more blankets? less blankets? a new watch? I'm going to order you a new watch"

you'd banish him from the room for the coddling and when you return to the living area later - he will be surrounded by bags because he had gone shopping and returned with the most ridiculous things: clothes, food, jewellery, blankets, pillows

"I didn't know what you might need." He'd say, slightly shy

"I needed a nap, Regulus." you'd laugh.

"well...you deserve all of this anyway."

and then he'd spend the rest of the evening doing low-impact stuff for your head. reading you a book quietly, gentle conversation, maybe run you a bath

bonus! Barty Crouch Jr:

"who did this?" he'd bark as he saw you in the fetal position with your gear on

"christ, Barty. please be quiet"

"what happened?" he'd demand, quieter but no less intense.

"I just have a migraine."

a switch would flip. he'd ready the room for you (curtains, quiet, water, pills, he'd set up a fan pointed at you.)

then he'd sit outside of the door to your flat and violently threaten anyone walking in the hallway if they make so much as a whisper of noise in this flats direction.

[vctrvn-ls]

Hellooo, could you write a '3am though ' about the Boys being clingy? Cause I feel like everyone is clingy in a different way hehe

Types of Clingy | Beta Squad |

Chunkz

His clingyness would show through being a little too co-dependent. I’m not saying he wouldn’t be able to make independent decisions at all, but most of the time he would definitely want your opinion…on pretty much like everything. New shoes, place to stay while on a work trip, where to eat, how to dress for the weather and on and on. Sometimes it’s nice to know that someone wants to hear your point of view, but other times it could be very very annoying.

Sharky

Sharky’s thing is definitely constantly texting or like somehow communicating through his phone 24/7. Doesn’t matter if you’re calling, chatting or just sending each other goofy snaps, he needs to constantly talk. He’d always send “update” messages out of nowhere, like imagine he decided to go to the store to buy some fruits and he’s in line, waiting and bored and suddenly some drama happens between a customer and the worker. He’d whip out his phone in a fraction of a second and begin describing the entire situation to you. Most of the time you don’t mind it, the opposite, you actually like it, but sometimes Sharky can get a little persistent and if you don’t reply while he’s currently bored, he’s going to spam your phone, asking where are you and “why are you ignoring me?”

Niko

Time is money to this man. Quality time is gold and Niko definitely wants it. He’s a busy man himself but if he finds out you have even a small 20 minute break from anything, you best be ready for him to appear and persuade you to do something together. Maybe you’re at work and you’re having lunch, in which case he’d offer to drive you to the nearest coffee shop, maybe you’re at uni and you have a free period during which he’ll sneak you out to have some ice cream. And when he’s done with work for the day, the first thing he’s doing is calling you and saying that he’s finally free from whatever, after which he would definitely suggest going somewhere, no matter how tired he was.

AJ

“Lisa are you dumb? AJ hates human contact, he said so himself like 100 times! You’re not telling me he’d be the physically clingy one!”

Hahahah - is my response guys. AJ. Would be. Possessive. (as fuck) Okay yes he hates it when people touch him BUT YOU AREN’T JUST PEOPLE! He wants you to constantly hold his hand or arm, he needs it. And for him it would be a totally normal thing to have his arm around your waist at all times when going out. He wants people to know that you’re with him, that you’re his and that nothing is getting in between the two of you. Doesn’t matter where: party, grocery store, at a fucking dentist appointment, this guy couldn’t care less, just as long as he’s somehow holding onto you or you’re holding onto him.

Kenny

This one a bit sad. I think Kenny would be a little insecure. Like ok we know he’s the sexiest man alive but in his eyes he’s still not good enough for you. And that’s exactly what gnaws at him. Sometimes arguments would spur between the two of you out of nothing. Imagine you went out and didn’t tell Kenny, just forgot to mention or you were in a hurry. When you finally come back home he’d be like “where have you been?” , “why didn’t you tell me you were going out?” , “who’d you go out with?” , but it wouldn’t be in a controlling sense, you get me? Like he’d be worried, paranoid even and to you sometimes it would seem stupid. Like you shouldn’t be constantly explaining things to him. But no matter how mad or pissed you wanna be at him, you can’t. Why? Cause it’s Kenny and Kenny is 🔛🔝 of everything <3

[youngsadlesbian]

hellooo how are you? i just read your most recent fic and got obssessed omg its so cute😩😩 a while after reading it, i had an fic idea but im not a writer, so im just passing it to you bcz i liked your writing so bad, pls honor me✋😔

what abt a fic where r is nat and bucky daughter and she has a bit of the super soldier serum and that obviously made her kinda 💪 yk? and when she's at school some girlies are falling so hard over her. you could write it over the years, like when she's 6-7 and a girl wants to hold her hand on the school break, walk around and kiss her cheek, super cute omg😭 when she's 10-11 a girl gives her chocolate and a flower and r would be so confused omg i just feel it. and of course, at 14-15 she starts to like a girl and she would be so-- like idk just imagine her coming back home after a day at school smiling and telling nat abt that girl, and nat convinces her to ask the girl out, so she takes r to buy something for the girl (idk what, i never asked someone out💔💔) and later they could date or not, ill let if for you.

omg that's so long im sorry, but pls pls do it😭😭🙏 ill be waiting so anxious for this

STRONGER HEARTS

pairing: bucky barnes x natasha romanoff x daughter!reader

summary: being the daughter of two superheroes wasn't easy, especially when you ended up inheriting a bit of your father's super soldier serum. and especially for drawing attention from other kids, even when you didn't quite understand what that meant.

a/n: idk if this turned out exactly how you wanted, but i tried my best while taking advantage of my free time at work and my burst of creativity. hope you like it, dear <3

word count: 2,6k

warnings: none, just fluff.

It started early, this whole thing about you being... different. Not just in the way your parents, Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes, were literal superheroes with more than enough stories of their own to tell. No, it started with you.

You were only six years old, and already things were starting to get confusing. Not because of school—math was math, recess was recess—but because of the way other kids, especially the girls, looked at you.

You were at recess, standing by the jungle gym, when it happened. A girl named Lily, the same age as you, came bouncing over with a big smile.

"Hi!" she chirped, her blonde pigtails bouncing.

"Hi," you said, glancing at her curiously.

Without hesitation, Lily reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly.

"Come on! I want to walk with you around the playground. You’re so cute!" she declared, pulling you along.

You blinked, not quite sure how to react, but you didn’t resist either. You didn’t mind holding her hand, even if you didn’t fully understand why she wanted to. As you strolled around the playground, Lily kept looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t place. Every so often, she’d giggle and give your hand a squeeze, like holding it was some kind of special prize.

At one point, she stopped and kissed your cheek before running off with a squeal. You stood there, completely bewildered.

Later that day, you told your mom what happened.

"Mom, why did Lily hold my hand all recess and kiss my cheek?" you asked, still confused by the whole thing.

Natasha laughed softly, crouching down to your level. "Well, sweetheart, sometimes people like being close to others they find... cute. Maybe she thinks you're special."

"Special?" you scrunched your nose. "Why?"

"Because you’re you," Natasha said with a smile, ruffling your hair. "You’re going to have that effect on people."

You didn’t fully understand at the time, but you would soon learn that having an effect on people was something that followed you everywhere.

By the time you were ten, you were starting to notice that your classmates were behaving a little strangely around you. Particularly the girls. They were often staring at you, smiling shyly when you walked by, and sometimes even blushing. But the most confusing moment came on Valentine's Day that year.

You were at school, sitting at your desk, when a girl named Emily approached you, her cheeks bright red. In her hands were a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

"Uh... these are for you," she said, looking like she was about to explode with embarrassment.

You stared at the items she was offering, completely perplexed. "Why?"

Emily blinked, clearly not expecting that response. "Because... I like you?" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You frowned, still not understanding. "You like me? Like... as a friend?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, like... I like like you."

Now you were even more confused. "What does that mean?"

Emily blushed even harder, pushing the flowers and chocolates into your hands before darting off. You sat there, staring at the gifts, completely dumbfounded. What were you supposed to do with them?

Later that evening, you brought the chocolates home, placing them on the kitchen table in front of your dad, who was reading the newspaper.

"Dad, what does it mean if someone gives you flowers and chocolates because they 'like like' you?" you asked, your face a picture of confusion.

Bucky lowered the paper, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. "Ah, the old 'like like' situation, huh?" He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. "It means she has a crush on you."

You blinked. "A crush?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "She thinks you’re cute and probably wants to spend more time with you."

You stared at the chocolates in your hand, still trying to wrap your head around it. "I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do?"

Bucky chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Just be nice, and let her down easy if you're not interested."

You still didn’t fully understand what had just happened, but you nodded anyway, trusting your dad's advice. But this wasn’t the last time you’d find yourself in confusing situations like this.

It wasn’t until you turned fifteen that things really started to make sense. Or at least, you started to make sense of the feelings you’d been having for a while now.

Her name was Chloe, and she was in your class at school. She had bright eyes, a soft smile, and a laugh that made your heart race. Every day, you found yourself staring at her from across the room, completely mesmerized. You’d never felt this way before.

Whenever you were around her, you’d get flustered, your words tumbling over each other. It didn’t help that she seemed to like spending time with you, which only made your crush even worse. By the time you were halfway through the school year, you were completely and utterly obsessed.

"She’s just... so pretty," you sighed dreamily, sitting at the kitchen table one evening after school.

Natasha glanced over from where she was cooking dinner, raising an eyebrow. "Pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," you said, resting your chin in your hands. "Like, really pretty. And smart. And funny."

Bucky, sitting nearby with a book, exchanged a knowing look with Natasha.

"Sounds like someone’s got a crush," Natasha teased lightly.

Your face turned bright red, but you didn’t deny it. "What do I do? I don’t know how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot."

Natasha smiled, walking over to sit beside you. "Maybe you should ask her out."

You blinked in surprise. "Ask her out? You think I can do that?"

"Of course, you can," Natasha said with a shrug. "What’s the worst that could happen?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking it over. "What if she says no?"

"Then you move on," Bucky said, setting his book down. "But you won’t know unless you try."

It was easier said than done, though. Asking Chloe out seemed like the scariest thing in the world. But the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to. So, naturally, you turned to the people who could (theoretically) help: the Avengers.

The next day, you found yourself in the Avengers Tower, nervously pacing around as you waited for some of the team to show up. You’d decided to gather as much advice as possible before making your move.

Tony Stark was the first to arrive, sauntering into the room with his signature smirk.

"So, I hear you need help asking someone out," Tony said, folding his arms. "Lucky for you, I’m a master at this."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Here’s what you do: build her something. Like a mini Iron Man suit. Girls love that."

You blinked. "Uh... I don’t think I can build a suit."

Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. Just wow her with something impressive. Trust me."

Next up was Thor, who entered with his usual dramatic flair, his hammer in hand.

"Ah, young love!" Thor boomed, clapping you on the shoulder. "The key to winning over a maiden’s heart is boldness! Sweep her off her feet! Declare your feelings loudly and with great passion!"

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. "I don’t think I should yell at her."

"Nonsense! Nothing says romance like shouting your love from the rooftops!" Thor insisted, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

As more Avengers filtered in, the advice only got more absurd. Clint suggested using arrows to spell out her name in the sky, and Bruce—though more subdued—suggested writing a thoughtful essay about your feelings. You were starting to think none of this was going to help.

It wasn’t until you sat down with your dad, Bucky, that you finally got some real advice.

"So, you’re really into this girl, huh?" Bucky asked, sitting across from you with a serious expression.

"Yeah," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "Here’s the thing: you don’t need to do anything crazy. Just be yourself. Ask her to hang out, maybe go grab some ice cream or something simple. You don’t need fireworks or Iron Man suits. Just be honest."

You looked at him, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "You think that'll work?"

"I know it will," Bucky said with a soft smile. "She’ll appreciate the real you more than anything."

Taking your dad’s advice to heart, you finally mustered up the courage to ask Chloe out. It wasn’t as dramatic as Tony or Thor would’ve wanted, but it was honest.

"Hey, Chloe," you said one day after school, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "Do you maybe wanna go get ice cream with me this weekend?"

Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. "I’d love to."

Your heart skipped a beat when Chloe said yes. For a moment, you were frozen, unable to process that she’d actually agreed to go out with you. But then, slowly, a wide grin spread across your face.

"Great! Um, I’ll text you the details?" you stammered, still trying to keep your cool.

Chloe nodded, her smile warm and genuine. "Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it."

As you walked away, a giddy feeling bubbled up inside you, and by the time you got home, you were practically floating. The moment you stepped into the apartment, you dropped your bag by the door and burst out, "Mom! Dad! She said yes!"

Natasha looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, a knowing smile on her face. "Told you."

Bucky was sitting nearby, his eyes lighting up with pride. "See? Told you all you had to do was be yourself."

You flopped onto the couch between them, still buzzing with excitement. "I’m going to get ice cream with Chloe. This weekend. Can you believe it?"

Natasha chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I’m happy for you, sweetheart. You did good."

"Now you just have to survive the date," Bucky teased, winking at you.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah… right."

The weekend came faster than you expected, and soon you were standing outside a little ice cream shop, waiting for Chloe to arrive. Your hands were stuffed in your pockets, and your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest.

When Chloe finally showed up, you felt your breath hitch. She looked even more beautiful than usual, with her hair down in loose waves and a light smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft as she approached.

"Hey," you replied, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. "Ready for some ice cream?"

Chloe grinned. "Definitely."

The two of you went inside, ordered your ice creams, and found a quiet spot by the window. As you sat across from her, the awkwardness you’d feared didn’t show up. Instead, you found yourself talking easily, laughing at her jokes, and feeling more comfortable than you ever thought possible.

"You know," Chloe said after a while, twirling her spoon in her cup, "I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve kinda liked you for a while."

You blinked, taken aback. "Wait—really?"

Chloe giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, but… I guess you do."

You felt your face heat up, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from happiness. "I do. I really do."

The rest of the date went by in a blur of laughter, smiles, and shared glances that made your heart race. By the time you were walking Chloe back to her place, you were already thinking about the next time you’d see her.

When you reached her doorstep, there was a brief, sweet moment of silence between the two of you. Chloe turned to face you, her eyes soft and warm.

"I had a really great time," she said, her voice gentle.

"Me too," you replied, feeling a little breathless.

There was a pause, and then, without thinking too much about it, you leaned in and kissed her cheek. Chloe’s smile widened, and she gave you a shy wave before heading inside, leaving you standing there with the biggest grin on your face.

When you got home, your parents were waiting, both of them pretending to be casually occupied, but you knew they were dying to know how it went.

"So," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. "How was it?"

You dropped onto the couch with a happy sigh. "It was perfect."

Bucky smirked. "Told you all you needed was to be yourself. None of that flashy stuff."

Natasha smiled warmly, sitting down next to you. "We’re proud of you. So… is there going to be a second date?"

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. "I think so."

Just then, Tony walked into the room, raising an eyebrow. "Did I hear something about a date? Did my advice work?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please, Tony. If she’d followed your advice, she’d be building an Iron Man suit for the next three months."

Tony looked indignant. "Hey, building suits is romantic."

You laughed. "Actually, I didn’t need a suit. I just asked her out, like Dad said."

Tony sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love. So simple and pure. You’ll learn one day, kid."

Over the next few days, the Avengers couldn’t stop teasing you about the date. Clint would randomly shout "Smooth move!" whenever he saw you, and Thor kept encouraging you to "declare your love loudly, as is the Asgardian way!" But in the end, it was all in good fun, and you found yourself loving the chaotic but supportive family you had.

As your relationship with Chloe blossomed, word spread quickly throughout the Avengers Tower. It wasn’t long before all the Avengers were curious about the girl who’d captured your heart.

One day, as you were training with Steve in the gym, he glanced over at you with a grin. "So, when do we get to meet this girl of yours?"

You nearly stumbled over your own feet. "Wait—what?"

"You know," Steve continued, chuckling, "bring her around to meet the team. We’d all love to meet her."

You blushed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I don’t know… It’s kind of a big step, introducing her to you guys."

Steve gave you a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. We’ll behave."

You raised an eyebrow. "Will you, though? Because Tony and Thor don’t know the meaning of 'subtle.'"

Steve laughed. "Okay, fair point. But still, she sounds great. I think we’d all like her."

You thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe soon."

As your relationship with Chloe continued to grow, you found yourself feeling more confident, not just in your relationship but in yourself. Your parents, Natasha and Bucky, were always there to support you, offering advice when you needed it and cheering you on from the sidelines.

One evening, as you sat with them on the couch, watching a movie, Natasha wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

"You know," she said softly, "we’re really proud of you. You’ve grown into an amazing person."

You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. "Thanks, Mom."

Bucky nodded from the other side of the couch, his voice gentle. "We’re lucky to have you."

In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved you most, you realized just how lucky you were. You had a family that supported you, a girl who cared about you, and a future that was wide open with possibilities.

And no matter what came next, you knew you’d be ready—because you had the best parents, and the most chaotic team of superheroes, right by your side.

[qirongshusband]

Hellooo, can you make a ftm! Reader x Toji comfort where reader has been feeling down due to dysphoria and feels he’s not enough for Toji and Toji notices this and comforts him abt it?

Feel free to delete/ignore this! :3

Also, i lof ur writings

⋆˚࿔ 🌊 . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Note ~ of course! Thank you so much, I’m glad you like them! (^○^) DM me if you want any changes or smth please! I just wrote off what I thought would be short and sweet💔

MENTIONS — Fluff/Comfort, SFW, FTM!Reader, body dysmorphia, overthinking.

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You and Toji had plans to go out to a friend of yours party, it wasn’t anything major just a hangout for friends. As you were getting ready you looked at yourself in the mirror, placing your hands on your face feeling..icky about yourself. You began judging yourself, feeling like you didn’t look manly enough, how you felt like you didn’t fit into the male standards. You then began to start overthinking if Toji even loved you for you or if he thought you were just some ‘girl’ and not really a man. You were thinking the worst as those thoughts started to flood your head.

As you looked at yourself once more you viewed your body and even tried talking to yourself to hear your voice, you felt like you didn’t sound like a man enough. Like you weren’t enough for Toji in general, you sat on the floor burying your face into your hands as big tears fell down onto your hands. You were crying..shit after all that effort of getting ready to..that didn’t really matter to you though, you just wanted to be reassured that you were just over thinking and that you are a man. You are something.

To Toji you are his everything, you may not think it or may think poorly on yourself but he really does love you. You didn’t notice it until you felt Toji behind you wrapping his arms around you laying his head on your shoulder, he was looking at you with a slightly concerned voice but he suddenly spoke in a calm quiet tone, “hey, it’s okay. ‘m here, tell me what’s wrong.” He’d bring you in a tight embrace looking at you waiting for a response, he didn’t rush you but he wanted to know what was wrong with his boyfriend so he sat there patiently holding you into his arms as you then spoke in a awfully quiet, bothered, sad tone..

“I just uh..I don’t feel like i’m right. I feel out of place. My body I mean..I uh..” you paused mid sentence looking down, your breath was a bit shaky as you were still crying trying to keep your composure. You opened your mouth to speak once more but nothing came out, your mouth was left open, agape. He was also quiet, you then broke the silence by explaining how you felt, “I feel like you don’t really view me as a man like..no one does. I just look at myself and feel so disappointed. It’s tiring.” You slowly looked up at him, “I’m not good enough for you, I feel like I don’t really belong I’m just here for..no reason?”

The room was quiet for a few minutes after you had spoke, he gave you some time to think and calm down a little before he spoke softly. “No reason? I love ya’ very much, Y/N. Looking at you makes me happy knowing I’m dating such a handsome man.” He brushed your hair out of your face as he wiped any tears you had on your face, “I don’t care what ya’ are or want to be, I’ll b’ here for you. I don’t tend to say it much..I show it through action more than my words.” He loosened himself around you as he stood up and helped you get up, he looked at you with a serious genuine look, “we don’t have to attend that party with your friend, I want to spend time with you, is that okay?”

You nodded looking at him with a slight smile feeling a bit better but had some doubts about yourself but before you could even finish your thoughts he spoke up again just to reassure you to make sure he didn’t miss anything, “you are very worth it to me, I assure you there ‘s nothing wrong with ya’, you are just feeling doubt and down about yer’self and I understand. Though I may not understand yer struggle I understand it can be hard for you. And that’s perfectly fine, but you aren’t a girl, I don’t see you that way, at all.” He placed his hand on the side of your face and then kissed your cheek.

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