#sweetpea oneshot

[fearnesbells]

daggerheart oneshot as textposts 🤩

[artistantlers]

Just a sneaky lil mushroom and a lil guy!

[mareastrorum]

Laura made this choice for the fanart.

[keyleth-clay]

Critical Role Moodboards: Sweetpea Betabean

[inkykeiji]

flawless tomura and akutagawa oneshot in a week, i feel so blessed 😭 thank you for writing them.

aw hehehe anon!!!!!!! (*/ω＼*) please i’m so flattered by your compliment + glad to hear that you enjoyed them!! <3 i’m working really hard to get back into consistently releasing work so i’m quite proud of myself too hehe c: thank YOU for being here with me and reading them (´∀｀)♡

omgggggg okay i just have to gush for a moment because i just finished bsd season two and holy fuck holy FUCK i am so in love with akutagawa it’s not even funny like ???????????? i just want to give him a biiiig hug and some praise n tell him he did good and he is good and give him a cookie and maybe suck his cock if he’ll let me but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there <3333333 atm him + dazai + fukuzawa are my top three hands DOWN buuut i know i have yet to properly meet mr sexy russian so eeeeeeee

[elioslover]

Friday Nights - Harry Styles x reader. (Dadrry Oneshot).

[The polls revealed that you sweetpeas wanted more dadrry and my ovaries agreed. Hope you guys find it as cute as I do! 💞]

Premise: Harry can't wait to get home to see his favourite girls.

More dadrry / Other writing

Word count: 1.9k / Warnings

🧸

Harry has the entire weekend off- not just a lucky Saturday afternoon- the entire weekend. And he has spent the first 18 hours without empty hands, but the fullest of hearts.

His baby girl- who has long surpassed gaining the skill of walking- has been carried and coddled from the second Harry’s boots hit the hardwood of the entrance hall early Friday evening. The sun has yet to fully set and his whole body is whisked away with excitement at what awaits on the other side of the front door.

At the familiar sound of keys dangling from their slotting in the keyhole, his little petal has dismissed her activity of creating a colourful artwork, crayon still squished between her chubby fingers as her wobbly feet bound over to the front door in pursuit of the mysterious person attempting access.

With the patience she has surely learned from yourself- not Harry- his little 3-year-old is standing in wait, eyes wide with curiosity, her posture still shy and weary of who might enter in a moment.

And when the door becomes ajar, a familiar worn-down leather Gucci boot comes into vision, and then she can see the other boot too- her features prettily framing a painting of the unconditional love she has for her daddy. Those silly boots older than herself are the surest sign of one of her favourite humans stepping into the house.

Giddily, she beams up at him, her chubby ankles balancing her soft feet as she bounces up and down, her body swaying with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pure excitement.

Harry isn't even halfway through the door when he is confronted by his cute, cheery, tiny toddler, and he feels his shoulders soothingly shrug at the mere sight- unaware of just how happy he is at the blessing of ending his stressful days in the comfort of a home life he never considered a possibility.

Taking a full step into the hallway, Harry is reminded of your existence whenever his babygirl wistfully looks at him. She is the combination of he and your love, and so much more.

Her hair is a little damp, presumably from just having had a bath and some supper. Harry thinks he must have caught her amid playtime, and he hopes tomorrow might offer the opportunity for him to partake in these activities.

And he will, sternly telling you that he hopes you'll take the opportunity to make the weekend your own; tending to tasks, catching up with both friends and binging series, even just using the time to extend your naps, meals, and self-care.

But right now, the bag slung across his shoulder is dropped to the floor, he brushes the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it but cares not if it shuts completely, because a three-year-old- dressed in a pale blue set of jammies decorated in her favourite dinosaurs- is exclaiming, "Daddy" through a burst of enthusiastic giggles.

He takes a step forward, but she is more than willing to meet him in the middle, her tiny toes coming into contact with his boots before he can blink and she tightly wraps her arms around his leg- she only measures up to below his knee- adorably squeezing as tight as she can.

Harry's heart swells so big, he fears he is a balloon filled with so much helium it's begging to burst- but if it bursts, he knows his entire body will become a firework exhibition centred around the theme of how much he unconditionally loves his baby girl.

He does his best to bow closer, wrapping his arms around her, and in true tradition, Harry then lifts her little-ness, helping her balance her feet on the tops of his boots- Harry would have thrown these scuffed, barely stylish boots away if it weren't for the undeniably heart-warming reaction he receives when arriving home.

She now stands atop his shoes, her arms extending up so her hands can be clasped by his, and they are swallowed like a small petal in his palm- so small, he has never seen something-someone- so dainty. Harry slowly takes dance-like steps around the hallway, enthused and cheered on by the cheeky giggles of his daughter enjoying their little 'dance' along the hardwood.

Still humouring and guiding her around, Harry calls out, "'M home, Lovie," seeking out the location of his gift-giver, yourself.

"Hi, Bubs!" You call, and by the distance in your voice, Harry knows you're probably in the kitchen- which is confirmed mere seconds later, "'m in the kitchen", you coo, "felt like making spring rolls…", you pause, "It's still undecided if I'm succeeding or not."

Harry chuckles softly, eager to enter the kitchen and see exactly what you're on about, and by now, the easily distracted toddler has released him, bumbling on about wanting to show her daddy the latest masterpiece she will soon add to her collection.

He certainly will, "How 'bout you show me, and then we can draw another one together?"

She sillily but seriously considers it, her hand stroking her chin as if the fate of the world is balancing atop her ten fingers. Harry thinks he sees himself in her, he thinks he sees himself in you, and loving you has surely rubbed off on him.

Eventually, his sassy three-year-old tells him- with humorously, adorable certainty- "Yes."

Harry's chest lulls with love as he tells her, "Need to say hi to mummy first, okay?"

She nods avidly, "I'll start without you." To which Harry laughs aloud and begins the task of removing his boots.

Harry trails down the hallway, his sock sliding along the hardwood, his eyes glancing over the array of framed photographs- ones of himself and you, of the baby, pets, family and friends.

As he rounds the corner, the aroma of freshly chopped cabbage and carrots invades his senses, and said senses go into overdrive as his eyes land on the loveliest of things; his partner, partially hidden as you stand behind the kitchen island, slicing an avocado, humming along to soft sound of 'Hand Me Downs'.

He finds himself behind you so fast, like a fugue of neediness had taken over and he had to tend to it. You hum in contentment, body sinking back into his chest, still chopping with nonchalance as his arms carefully, but desperately, wrap around your waist, his hands mindlessly shifting the material of your clothes to ensure skin-on-skin contact.

He wants to be near- just for a moment- softly peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, and when you shudder, he huffs out with an overload of admiration. His little pecks seem successful as you finally discard your dinner prep, placing the knife on the counter before twirling your body around to face Harry.

His smile is bright and matches his eyes, unintentionally encouraging your features to mirror his as you tilt up onto your toes in favour of giving him a good smooch,

"Hello, my Darling." You address, pressing your lips to the corner of his own.

"Missed you, Lovie." He says before going in for a proper kiss; pecking you one, two, three times before he is smiling so much that it becomes hard to call this kissing.

You giggle against his lips, giving him one last kiss before tilting back less than an inch to let him know, "Missed you more."

"Liar." He chuckles, tilting his neck to the ceiling, giving you the opportunity for a cheeky nip of his chin. Harry's body jolts with pleasant surprise, hand sliding down your lower back to give your denim-clad bum a good squeeze.

And then perhaps the sassiest and cutest demand comes echoing down from the room over, "Excuse me!" which only has the pair of you a soft chuckling mess.

You gently stroke the nape of Harry's neck, nails scraping the nearest tufts of his hair, "Y' better get going." a final kiss to both cheeks and his lips before you remind him, "Your Highness awaits."

Harry nods along with a swift tap to your bum cheek and a kiss to your forehead as he leaves the kitchen in pursuit of the art gallery that is guaranteed to be covering the walls of the games room.

She is already seated at her little yellow table, her collection of colourful markers, pencils, and glitter pens are all neatly lined up on the right, and she has a pile of complete artworks stacked on the left. In the centre is an A4 pink piece of cardboard already covered in streaks of black marker.

Continuing to scribble, she makes a small gesture for Harry to pull up a seat next to her. He does so, untucking the chair he knows will do a useless job at holding his height, nevertheless, he settles in easily- a product of this being a recurring event- turning his body to signal his attention is entirely hers.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry enthusiastically reacts and admires his little one's creations, and then he follows her to the puppy's bed, letting her show off the new toy she chose for their golden retriever to sleep with this evening, then Harry helps her up the stairs, gently hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around his hips, her head curling into his chest.

She instructs him to go to her bedroom, only loosening her grip as he slowly dips to place both her and himself upon her bed. Out of his hold, her little legs crossed, feet wiggling with excitement, patting the spot next to her for her daddy to occupy.

Harry could never say no to that- for starters, it was challenging enough saying it to you- his body shuffling closer, shifting to suit her wishes until she is happily cradled across his chest, his hip awkwardly pressed into the mattress, shoulder twisted unpleasantly, but he has no cares to give.

She wants him to tell her a story. Sometimes she wants to hear about him having fun with his friends, or how he and mommy met and fell in love, other days she wants him to make one up tonight, she wants to hear about his singing.

She asks simple, scattered questions, mostly unrelated to the one before and after. Slowly they delay and his answers add an extra drone, she is getting rather comfy, cuddling up into the crook of Harry, sharing this contentedness with such sleepiness that he knows he is sure to follow.

Downstairs, admiring your dinner, you are quite proud of the final results of your spring rolls. Patience and persistence certainly has its perks. If your phone were nearby, you would be tempted to take a picture, but you have something better; a handsome husband who will soon praise you in wonderment as he scarfs down your proud work.

After a brief stroll through the living room and the games room, you patter your way up the staircase and make a beeline for her bedroom. As expected, you find your favourite duo, but what wasn't expected was the sigh of Harry cradling a sleeping toddler.

She is sleeping soundly, her little wrists and ankles scrunched, her face with a naturally concentrated brow furrow- just like her father. Harry has one arm wrapped around her, his head tucked behind her own, laying obscurely but looking cosier than ever.

[okami-ojou]

i loved this daggerheart oneshot, and want more....

the charas were so chaotic and awesome, but of course Oppi and Sweetpea took my heart so i had to draw them real quick :D

[creepswrites]

Hi there! I just recently discovered your page but I already love your writing style! Can I request a oneshot with poly Sinclair brothers (either just Bo and Vincent or all three, whichever you like better) and gn reader? Maybe the reader usually doesn't get involved when people come to Ambrose, and just stays at the house while the boys do their thing, but this time things get a bit out of control and they have to step in to help? Like prevent one of the victims from getting away or one of the boys from getting hurt?

Feel free to ignore this though, no pressure. Have a nice day! 😊

omg hiii i see you in the comments on a lot of my posts!! i'm so glad you like my writing, you're very sweet :) i loooove writing the Sinclair boys so i hope you enjoy!! sorry this took so long, lots of things kept popping up in my life

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: "There are people! A-A truck! Headin' towards town! They- They have guns, and, and!" Words spilled out of your mouth and you felt your heartrate skyrocketing. The idea of anything bad happening to Bo and Vincent just made you feel...

WARNING: graphic death/violence

Living in Ambrose had not been exactly your choice.

Bo had found you and a few of your friends on the side of the road and Vincent had convinced him to let him "keep" you once they had killed your friends. Not as a wax figure but as a real, living person. At first you'd kept to yourself, staying in the workshop to avoid Bo's anger and pretended you didn't hear the screams. You'd turn your back to Vincent when he worked, sitting and sobbing in the corner of the workshop with your hands over your ears to block out the sound of screams.

Now? It was perfectly normal to you.

"Hey Sweetpea!" Lester called to you, snapping you back to the present. Right, you were helping Lester this morning. Bo had tried to keep you inside to clean the house but the youngest Sinclair had begged to have you help him collect roadkill.

You liked Lester. He'd been sweet with you since the moment you'd arrived and, despite Bo and Vincent's constant arguments on the topic, you'd started a relationship with Lester before either of them. The two of you had just clicked and you'd been attached at the hip ever since. He was big on physical affection and would often make you little charms to hang in your bedroom - you had your own room, something you'd put your foot down after Bo had pitched the idea you just ocellate between sleeping in all their rooms. You wanted your own space.

Giving you choices wasn't always Bo's go-to. He'd been the toughest to wear down, always high-strung and he didn't exactly have a great role model as to what a good partner should be. Your relationship with Bo always felt rocky and unsteady. But he was sweet in his own way. He was terribly possessive of you - often to the detriment of everyone in the house - and wasn't afraid to flaunt you in front of guests. It always made your face flush hot when he did.

Vincent was the complete opposite. Shy and quiet, even after he'd insisted on you staying with them. He never tried to push you to do anything and always expressed his gratitude even for something as simple as doing the dishes. He liked to spend time with you, even if you were doing separate tasks. Vincent made you little wax figurines for your room - no people statues, you'd told him one afternoon - and they sat proudly on your windowsill beside a deer skull Lester had got you.

The term "dating" didn't really fall on any one particular brother. You were sort of "dating" all of them, in your own way. They knew this, you'd all talked about it, but it was still a relatively new shift in the dynamic.

"Gosh, you're awfully far away, huh?" Lester said with a warm chuckle and you startled a bit. He was much closer up now, dirt smudged on his cheeks and work gloves that he was careful not to touch you with.

"Sorry, yeah, must be." You trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

He tilted his head curiously and raised an eyebrow. "Good things?"

You hummed approval and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, relishing in the way he blushed. "Thinkin' 'bout you, if you can believe it."

Lester barked out a laugh. "Sometimes it still ain't feel real, Sweetpea. Flattered though, 'm always thinkin' 'bout you. But you know that."

The evening was calm, a beautiful pink-purple sunset and a cool breeze to offset the exhausting heat of the day. Cleaning the roads wasn't exactly your idea of a fun time but it beat cleaning the house for the fifth time in the past two weeks. The three weren't exactly the cleanest people but even they weren't that bad. Besides, you knew that some new "guests" were going to be coming to town in the next day or two and you wanted some time outside the town before Bo cracked down on you.

Sometimes it felt like he still didn't trust you.

You were climbing back into the truck with Lester when you both heard gunshots coming from down the road. "The hell?" He mumbled, squinting as he tried to get a good view of what was going on. "Are they headin' this way?"

A large truck was speeding towards you, bright headlights the only indication of where it was. The headlights were getting closer and you could hear people shouting as the truck picked up speed.

They were trying to hit you two.

You grabbed Lester's arm and yanked him off the road, the two of you falling over into the grass with the force of it. The people in the truck cheered and mocked you as they passed by, flinging an empty beer can at you and soaking through your shirt. It stunk but you were just glad it wasn't a glass bottle.

"Shit- Are you okay?!" Lester sat up with a wince as he rubbed his arm. You two hadn't landed gracefully, you were just happy he wasn't really hurt. "Jesus, Sweetpea, did they throw a-?"

"They're headin' towards Ambrose." You gasped, watching the blinding red taillights disappear down the road. "Bo and Vinny, they don't-!"

You both shot into action, scrambling to your feet and tossing your gloves in the back of the truck with the carcasses. It didn't matter, all that mattered was warning the twins. You winced at the stink of beer as you reached into your pocket to pull out your cell phone. It was old, something Bo stole from one of his many victims, and you only ever really used it to call Lester if you needed something at the store.

But you punched in Bo's phone number despite shaking fingers as you and Lester got in the truck. You took off after the truck, Lester's anxious fingers drumming on the wheel as you held the phone to your ear.

It felt like an eternity in between each thrum of the dial tone.

Bo picked up after the third ring.

"Hey, what's goin'-"

You cut him off. "There are people! A-A truck! Headin' towards town! They- They have guns, and, and!" Words spilled out of your mouth and you felt your heartrate skyrocketing. The idea of anything bad happening to Bo and Vincent just made you feel...

"Shit, fuck, didja see how many?"

"No! I- They sped right past, they, uh, they threw beer at me and-"

You could hear the sound of what must've been a wrench clanging to the floor. So he was in the autoshop. Okay. At least he wasn't far. "Like hell they did, I'll kick their asses when they get here!"

You swallowed around a dry throat and a tearless sob wracked your body. "Guns! They have guns, Bo."

"So do I." And he hung up before you could say anything else.

Lester could tell you were scared, reaching gingerly across the center console to over you his hand. You took it and squeezed tight, trying to hold in your anxiety and fear. "Shh, hey, it's alrigh' Sweetpea. We've done this all before, Bo'll be fine."

You just nodded, swallowing back the feeling that this felt different. More dangerous.

You wanted your boys to come out of this okay...

The truck was parked outside the entrance to town and you felt your heart sink at the sight. Lester hadn't even come to a complete stop before you were out the door and grabbing the old rusty shovel from the back of the truck. Usually, you'd never even dream of touching that thing without gloves on.

Now, you didn't even care.

You started your march towards the house, shovel tight in your hands and Lester's footsteps close behind. He must've grabbed his shotgun from the backseat since you heard him reload it. "Stay close, Sweetpea. Ain't no tellin' what those folks'll do."

"Okay," you mumbled, slowing only enough for him to catch up.

Screaming could be heard from inside the house. You and Lester shared a look before you both took off running. The front door was wide open and a dead body lay sprawled out on the porch, blood leaking from the back of it's head. You didn't even give it thought as you pushed inside.

Some guy was loading up his shotgun as Bo held a knife dangerously close to the throat of some girl, one arm around her squirming body as he shouted at the guy to drop the gun. The girl was begging the man not to shoot and you locked eyes with her for a brief, fleeting second.

Then you descended upon the man with ferocity you didn't even know you had. You slammed the shovel into the back of his head and sent him tumbling to the floor but you didn't let up. You swung over and over, the floor splattering with blood as you began to chip away at his flesh and skull. Bits of bone and brain began to splatter across the hardwood floor and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks.

With a final swing, you lodged the shovel into the guys head, his dead eyes lolling at nothing.

Both you and the girl were screaming and crying.

You fell to your knees with a heavy thud, sobbing openly over the dead body. You'd never had to kill anyone before, the brothers never made you, and you felt horrified with how angry you were. How afraid you'd felt at the idea of the man firing on Bo.

And, more importantly, how you didn't even regret killing him.

"Sh, shhh, it's okay," Lester's words washed over you as he wrapped an arm around your back. You sobbed into his chest as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe as best he could. Your ears were ringing and everything felt as though it were underwater.

Footsteps bounded up the stairs and you looked up to see Vincent. He was kneeling between you and the body, looking you over as though expecting to find injuries.

When Vincent helped you stand up, you could finally process the rest of the house.

The place was in shambles, the pool table flipped over as some poor attempt at cover and a few picture frames had fallen and broken. Glass scattered across the rug and a few more bodies littered the downstairs. Bo must've shot most of them and Vincent may have chased down the others.

You felt silly, in retrospect. Obviously they could handle themselves. But you'd just felt so scared. There'd never been an ambush before, nothing like this. Or, at least, not while you'd been living there.

Vincent and Lester helped you stand, your feet crunching in glass. Without hesitation, you slumped forwards and wrapped your arms around Vincent in a tight hug, hiding away your face as you tried to steady your breathing. His fingers traced gentle patterns on the back of your shirt that helped to steady you.

Bo had knocked the girl out, her limp body laying across the floor inelegantly. You suspected you'd see a polaroid or two of her on Bo's basement walls in the next few days, when he'd had his fun torturing her.

"Hey, doll," Bo's voice was close and you lifted your eyes to see him. He looked concerned but there was pride there. "Got 'em real good, huh?"

You gave a glance down at the man with a shovel lodged in his head and shrugged. "I was... worried."

"Well, shit, if that's what you do when yer worried, remind me to never miss yer calls." Lester huffed with a playful grin. Vincent grabbed his hat and smacked him with it, making the younger brother laugh.

Bo rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Awful sweet of ya to come protect us, doll." He said as Vincent and Lester bickered. "I do appreciate it."

You hugged him and felt yourself finally relax. The bickering, the soft affection, everything seemed to be back to normal. Perfect.

Though it seems like you'll need to be cleaning the house again this week...

[erlie]

The Daggerheart oneshot inspired me to draw Laura Bailey's Sweetpea.

[emo-trash101]

helloo since the ramshackle pilot came out today could you possibly do something with either the trio with a m!reader orrrr Skipp x M!reader ?? please and thank you ! ♥️

Ofc! And I loved the pilot, and I accidentally made a joke when I started watching it and then it ended up being like the entire ending and yeah. It was delightful. But I'm doing this as headcannons, but just let me know if you want a oneshot instead

Skipp x M! Reader

Pronouns: Second person, implied male

Tw: Nothing, this is perfect (jkjk)

- This boy...this sweet precious apple loving boy.

- Honestly I think he might love you more than apples. Skipp seems like the kinda guy who falls hella hard. Like full on collision with concrete hard.

- He probably fell for you first, he seems like a "Love at first sight" kinda guy.

- And him crushing on you is a little bonkers at moments. He takes it as wanting to be extra extra best friends with you.

- It turns into y'all being attached at the hip for Vinnie and Stone to be like "Yo, you have a crush"

- After that, skipp has a whole revaluation on y'alls relationship, he may be missing for a day or two.

- Eventually he does come to the conclusion that he likes you and basically immediately tells you.

- Like y'all are just trying to pickpocket some woman and then he's like "I think I'm in love with you"

- Safe to say that woman's cash was kept in tact.

- Afterwards you guys start dating.

- I think dating Skipp would be...interesting?

- He's very loyal and cares about his friends and family, but I think some people forget he is also very spontaneous like Vinnie.

- Like y'all could be having a heart felt conversation and then "Omg a bird!"

- He is the definition of adhd

- I think he'd call you my boy a lot. I have no reason to think that but it feels correct.

- It would be like "Oh yeah, me and my boy got 50 cents"

- Makes total sense.

- He would also probs call you those sickeningly sweet pet names like honey bunny or sweetpea (I use those 😭)

- Vinnie also proceeds to tease him.

- I feel like Skipp wouldn't have a preferred love language?

- Like he feels like the kinda guy who would just love loving and being loved. He's not too picky about how.

- In all, a 9/10 boyfriend, get him some adhd meds please 🙏

I wrote this at work with my manager reading it 😭😭😭

[brook1yn-baby]

poison

pc!stan oneshot <3

characters; post covid stan x fem reader

warnings; dom/sub themes, fem+male masturbation, exhibitionism kinda, praise+degradation, petnames (sweetpea, baby), daddy kink, smut with aftercare 💋

a/n; this is for the anon that requested pc stan nsfw i’m dumb and accidentally deleted the ask 😪 thank u for requesting, it made my day teehee

stan hated his job.

okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. his job was…bearable. the pay was good, hours were flexible, he was basically his own boss and he worked from home. an online whiskey consultant wasn’t exactly a job he’d expected to be doing, especially so late in his life, but he was definitely passionate about it. or was it the alcohol he was passionate about? he could never quite tell. even so, he didn’t dread getting up every morning to answer calls from businessmen who had nothing better to spend their money on than copious amounts of whiskey.

but, right now, as he sits by his desk in his office on the phone to some guy who just can’t decide between two different bottles, he hates his job. and no, it wasn’t because the guy had spent the past twenty minutes mumbling to himself about the price and still hadn’t made a decision. it was during those twenty minutes that stan decided he hated his job. because during those twenty minutes, you’d walked into his office, sat on the sofa across from him and spread your legs, revealing that you were wearing nothing under your skirt.

god, stan really, really hated his job.

he couldn’t speak. even if he could, he wouldn’t be allowed. dirty-talking his pretty little tease of a girlfriend while on the phone with a client probably wasn’t the best look for the company. still, he just couldn’t pull his eyes away from your slow, gentle fingers as they slipped over your chest, stopping to pinch your nipples. the look on your face was enough to get him hard: bottom lip between your teeth, eyes half-lidded, staring right at him. there was probably the beginning of a smirk somewhere in there too, but stan was too busy watching your slutty display to check.

you knew for a fact this would end in a punishment. sure, stan loved how needy, how desperate you were for him, but always said the same thing when you were begging him to touch you; ‘good girls are patient. y’gonna be a good girl for daddy?’

usually, you’d whine, but nod and leave him be until he decided you deserved a reward. today was different. you weren’t gonna give him the chance to say anything. you’d woken up and his side of the bed was empty, you’d eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner alone, you’d gone grocery shopping and even carried all of the bags inside by yourself. he’d been in his office all day, and you were sick of it.

so, as your finger runs slow circles on your clit and his eyes darken, you know you’ve finally gotten his attention. the guy on the phone must’ve said something important, because stan has to drag his eyes away from you for a second, mumbling as he quickly types something on his computer, sighing. you giggle at his frustration, but stop promptly as he gives you a certain look; one that says ‘i’m not done with you yet’.

you take it in your stride, pushing a single digit into yourself, letting out a hushed whimper and grinning up at him. you knew it was taking everything in him to not throw his phone down and fuck you stupid. instead, he palmed at his cock through his pants, his face stoic. when you slip another finger in though, your moans a little louder now, his breath catches in his throat. he continues talking to the man on the other end of the phone, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s about to snap any second and hang up. you fuck yourself with your fingers, slowly, letting him watch you adjust to the feeling. fuck, you were still so tight. stan’s practically sweating now, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. he’s so hard it looks painful. he grabs his tip, wiping the precum down his length and pumping his dick as he stares at you, almost in awe of how much of a whore he’d turned you in to.

you would’ve never pulled this stunt when you first started dating.

he smirks as you bring your other hand back to your chest, swirling your fingertips around your nipple, grabbing and pinching, desperate for more stimulation. it wasn’t enough, and he knew it. you both knew it. it wasn’t him.

stan must’ve reached his breaking point as he cuts off the man on the phone. “look, dude, it’s not hard. get the macallan.” his hand leaves his dick to type something, then returns to jerking himself off as soon as the guy agrees and says he’ll order that one. he exchanges quick, strained pleasantries before basically throwing his phone onto the desk.

he doesn’t move for a few seconds. you stop your movements, removing your fingers and sitting still on the couch, full of adrenaline and lust.

then, he laughs. it’s quiet, and with his head down, you can barely hear him. he leans back in his chair, cock still upright and dripping as he looks down at you. “you wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” his words are sharp and harsh, and it’s obvious he’s pissed. still, you give him the least nervous smile you can muster. you weren’t used to taking the reigns for once, or atleast trying to. stan was usually the one to instigate anything in your relationship, and as much as you liked him being soft with you, you needed something else. it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch- you knew he was capable of going harder on you, you just had to push him. luckily for you, this seemed to do it.

you hum quietly. “nothin’.”

that makes him laugh again. but it’s louder, a lot louder, and there’s an air of anger to it. “nothin’, huh?” he nods gently. then, slowly, he stands up, looking down at you still sat cautiously on the couch. his dick twitches against his stomach as he watches you from this new angle. he leans down slightly, hand coming to your jaw to hold your head towards him. “did i tell you to stop?”

you could’ve come from just the way he looked down at you. still holding his gaze, you bring your fingers back to your cunt, pushing two digits back inside. you rest your head on his hand as you fuck yourself, fast and messy, desperate to reach your high before he can take it away from you. he brushes a few stray hairs from your face, rubbing your cheek gently as he coos at your soft whimpers- it was so humiliating, and it made you even wetter. “there’s my obedient little girl.” his voice is quiet. he watches you intently, his cock still throbbing against his stomach. it was so difficult for him to just watch you and not touch himself.

it’s not hard to finish; you clench around your fingers, legs shaking as he pets your hair, whispering obscenities through your orgasm. your breathing is heavy when you finally settle down, as is stan’s. you go to remove your fingers, the warning signs of overstimulation already prominent, but stop when you feel stan’s large hand wrap around your wrist, keeping yours in place. his other grips your chin a little tighter. he tuts gently. “you wanted to be a little slut,” his voice is low and it sends a shiver down your spine, “so i’m gonna treat you like one.”

his hand moves slowly, coercing your fingers inside of yourself and you let him, curling them to reach your sweet spot, all while letting out strained moans. he ignores your whining, simply repeating his earlier words; you had decided to act like a whore, and you were gonna be punished for it. by now, the line between pain and pleasure had blurred. you couldn’t tell whether the ache in your core was from exhaustion or another building orgasm, but it didn’t matter anyway. you force your eyes open when he takes his hand from your chin, watching through blurry vision as he jerks himself off and pushes your fingers deeper inside of you. it was so intoxicating, so embarrassingly delicious. you were a squirming mess next to him, babbling as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train.

you can barely speak as it passes. you’re begging by this point, soft whimpers and pained ‘please’s, though you’re unsure whether you’re begging for it to stop or for him to finally fuck you. stan seems to get the message, wiping the stray tears from your pink cheeks and removing his hand from your wrist. “s’too much baby?” his words are soft, but the grin on his face is smug. you nod pitifully, sniffling, legs still shaky. suddenly, his hand snakes up your spine, coming to grab at your hair and pushing you back on the couch. his hands pull you up to your knees, leaving you face down and arched. “too fuckin’ bad, slut.” you hear his voice behind you, then feel his cock slap against your pussy. you’re dripping and sore from your first two orgasms and you’re not sure if you can handle a third, but it’s blaringly obvious you don’t get a choice as he pushes into you.

it stings, and leaves you tearing up again as he bottoms out, but fuck, does it feel good. it’s like he’s made to fuck you. your whole body ached, and you were pretty sure your legs were about to collapse, but as he slams into you, you can’t focus on anything but how big he feels inside of you. he was already close, his movements sloppy and harsh, but he was making the most of this. he needed to make sure he taught you a lesson.

your hands grab onto anything they can; you grasp at the couch, trying to hold yourself up as each of his thrusts seem harder than the last. he clutches at your hips with strong, thick fingers, squeezing slightly as he nears orgasm, urged on by your muffled moans and tears. you manage to come again, but it’s overshadowed by the pain searing through your whole body. you let yourself fall forward into the soft cushions on the couch, stan now fully supporting your bottom half as he pushes in a few more times, bottoming out with a strained grunt when he finishes inside of you.

as soon as he pulls out, you feel disgusting. you’re sticky with sweat and come, shaking and tearing up on the couch. you hear him recollect himself, feel the space next to you dip as he takes a seat, panting. his attention is immediately on you. he places a soft hand on your leg, rubbing gentle circles on your thigh. you sit up shakily, wiping your eyes as he gestures for you to sit on his lap, arms wide. you don’t hesitate to crawl onto him, settling comfortably with your face buried in his neck, whispering teary apologies. he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, shushing you softly. “s’okay, baby,” he mutters, still holding you close to his chest, “just wanted daddy’s attention, didn’t you?”

you nod, his hand reaching up to brush through your hair. it was true; you weren’t used to him being so busy with work, and it was weird not being around him all day. you had gotten so comfortable in your domesticated daily routine with stan that when he wasn’t there when you woke up, or when you ate, or when you were out running errands, everything felt wrong.

he puts two fingers under your chin, pulling you up to look at him. his expression softens as he wipes your tears, placing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m not angry, baby. just can’t let you act out without punishing you,”

you understood. this was the first time you’d gone against his rules and, as incredible as you felt during, it was gonna be hard coming down after that. fortunately, stan was there to help you through. “gonna go get a cloth to clean you up, okay baby? be a good girl and stay here,”

he slides you from his lap back to the couch, bending down to press a final kiss to your forehead, then getting up to leave with a proud grin. he’d definitely taught you a lesson.

[fearnesbells]

“jack,” i hear you say, “there’s no way that two esteemed middle aged voice actors can wholeheartedly embody a peaceful mushroom and a goofy little frog.”

to you, i show this screenshot. thx daggerheart.

[mayasaurusss]

Masterlist

Hello dear readers! I will be mainly writing for Yellowjackets!

What I'll write: Fluff, angst, horror writing (in details), smut.

What I wont write: anything releated to hardcore or borderline creepy fetishes, character x character (unless reader is somewhay thrown in).

Request rules: if you want to request anything, it would be helpful to be really specific so i dont mess it up ;). When requesting something, be sure to specify the gender of the reader. Writing time may take a while! All the character I write for are aged to 18 years old or are older.

Ao3 account: Mayasaurus

Other masterlists: sweetpea, longlegs, fallout, arcane, The witching hour (fictober project).

Yellowjackets masterlist

Lottie Matthews:

Curses (series) Cheerleader Lottie x fem basketball player reader Modern soccer jock Lottie x fem reader The creature in the woods: Werewolf Lottie x reader Werewolf Lottie slice of life headcanons Lazy morning with Lottie Camomile: Lottie comforts reader during exam season Old ghosts: yandere/crazy Lottie x reader Honey: beekeeper Lottie x fem florist reader Vampire Lottie who feels bad drinking from you. Lottie x dance teacher reader Spending Lottie family's money Dating Lottie in the wilderness Catching Lottie smoke

Natalie Scatorrcio

Blood hive: Vampire Natalie x fem reader In your arms: angst in the wilderness. Comforting Natalie

Shauna Shipman

Having a situationship with Shauna in the wilderness Transmasc! Shaun blurbs Werewolf boyfriend: transmasc Shaun slice of life (series: 1, 2, 3, 4-nsfw)

Jackie Taylor

The feeling of you: Transfeminine Jackie in the wildernes Sleepover: Transfeminine Jackie x reader Transfem virgin Jackie Taylor blurbs

Misty Quigley

Aftercare headcanons Bites and kisses: cutness agression with Misty Going through ftm transition with transfeminine Misty Transfeminine Misty character study Misty taking care of sick reader

Van Palmer

Just like in the movies: Spider-Van x fem reader

Laura Lee

Taissa Turner

Soon...

Curses: chapter two Goddess Natalie one-shot (50% done) Witcher Natalie one-shot (45% done) Transmasc Shaun oneshot (30% done)

Anons: 🐈, 💗, 🐇,🌿, 🪓

[devilish-blue]

~Devilish Smoke Shoppe~

Hi you smokin' pervs, i'm Devilish or Blue, and i am here to fulfill whatever horny, angsty, or fluffy needs you have. Everything you guys are about to see is everything i will do, so eat your guys' gross little hearts out <33

Fandoms/Things i will write:

Anime's:

Naruto:

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Shikamaru Nara

Kiba Inuzuka

Kakashi Hatake

Gaara

Neji Hyuga

Rock Lee

Sai

Asuma Sarutobi

Tsunade Senju

Sakura Haruno

Ino Yamanaka

Hinata Hyuga

Temari

TenTen

Haikyuu:

Karasuno:

Hinata Shoyo

Kageyama Tobio

Tsukishima Kei

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Tanaka Ryūnosuke

Nishinoya Yu

Koshi Sugawara

Daichi Sawamura

Asahi Azumane

Kiyoko Shimizu

Aoba Johsai:

Oikawa Tooru

Iwazumi Hajime

Akira Kunimi

Kentarō Kyōtani (Mad Dog)

Nekoma:

Lev Haiba

Sō Inuoka

Kenma Kozume

Taketora Yamamoto

Morisuke Yaku

Tetsuro Kuroo

Shiratorizawa:

Kenjirō Shirabu

Tsutomu Goshiki

Satori Tendō

Eita Semi

Wakatoshi Ushijima

Fukurodani:

Haruki Komi

Akinori Konoha

Keiji Akashi

Kōtarō Bokuto

Inarizaki:

Osamu Miya

Atsumu Miya

Suna Rintaro

Aran Ojiro

Shinsuke Kita

Misc.:

Keishin Ukai

Ittetsu Takeda

Kiyoomi Sakusa

TV Shows:

Wednesday:

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Xavier Thorpe

Tyler Galpin

Ajax Petropolus

Cobra Kai:

Miguel Diaz

Robby Keene

Hawk/Eli Moskowitz

Demetri Alexpoulos

Tory Nichols

Samantha LaRusso

Riverdale:

Jughead Jones

FP Jones

Archie Andrews

Sweetpea

Reggie Mantle

Betty Cooper

Veronica Lodge

Toni Topaz

Cheryl Blossom

South Park (Aged up (COLLEGE) and/or Post Covid!):

Stan Marsh

Kyle Broflovski

Kenny McCormick

Eric Cartman

Tolkien Black

Craig Tucker

Tweek Tweak

Clyde Donovan

Big Mouth:

Judd Birch

Human Resources:

Maury Beverley

Connie LaCienega

Emmy Fairfax

Rochelle Hillhurst

Mona

Pete Doheny

Youtubers/Streamers:

Youtubers:

Sam and Colby

Markiplier

CoryXKenshin

EddieVR

JuicyFruitSnacks

JoshDub

Mully

YourNarrator

Streamers:

Quackity

Jschlatt

Sapnap

KarlJacobs

Slimecicle

Foolishgamers

Horror Characters:

Slashers:

Ghostface (Billy Loomis and Stu Macher)

Michael Myers

Jason Vorhees

Brahms Heelshire

Creepypastas:

Ticci Toby

Masky

Hoodie

Eyeless Jack

Homicidal Liu

Jeff The Killer

Ben Drowned

Laughing Jack

My Do's And Don'ts:

Do's:

Kinks

Smut

Fluff

Angst

Headcanons

Oneshots

Don'ts:

Spam me

Piss, Scat, Throw up, Vore.

Do NOT request any pedophilia or r@pe.

OKAY so now that you guys know everything, basically, you can request it because i honestly can't think of anything on my own. ALSO i am looking to do commissions, if you are interested then please let me know <33 Smoke your pervy little hearts out <33

[inkykeiji]

I love you❤️ thank you for indulging us all with your Touya nii content is very much appreciated 🥰

-🦁

oh my sweet lion anon!!!!! i love u!!! it’s so wonderful to hear from you again!! 🥺🥺🥺 i hope you’re doing well <33 aw thank you so much for such a kind message!!! i can’t tell you how much you reading and supporting my work, and taking a moment to send me something so lovely, means to me <3 thank you!!!! ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

[hoarding-stories]

The Daggerheart oneshot pcs:

Kexson Peros

Oppenheimer "Oppy" Betabean

Bunnie

Sir Dante Terrapin

Xarlo Grandall

Pango Small

Sweetpea Betabean