Tumgik
#sfw writing
thedemises · 21 days
Text
. . . SAVE A HORSE, GO ON A RIDE WITH THE COWBOY! featuring boothill!
Tumblr media
notes! . . . y'know the phrase, “save a horse, ride the cowboy”? well, I decided to-do something about it with boothill... except it's sfw and more like “save a horse, ride with the cowboy” cuz i dont do nsfw here >:/. god give me acceptance for how boothill is so ooc here- 😭😭 idnk how to write his character properly, and does he even have a horse?? I don't remember seeing a horse when his character and banner got leaked, so let's just pretend he does have one for the sake of K'hailreigh for this plot. 💀
Tumblr media
imagine returning the horse boothill had been searching for all day after it got the chance to escape through the tall fences the moment they were opened, his eyes widen at the sight of his companion with you guiding alongside it. normally, his horse wouldn't follow after someone else's orders other than him... and it behaves pretty feisty and rough with people who isn't him.
boothill is relieved to see that his trusty horse hadn't been injured, briefly thanking you as he goes over to fuss over his stallion. you can't help your gaze wandering and examining his figure, in awe of the metallic and cyborg parts of the cowboy in front of you. sure you might've seen people having artificial and metal parts attached to them, but this man right here just plainly looks like a robot if it weren't for his humanly head.
boothill notices you eyeing every inch of him, glancing from the lasso that hangs at his hips to the pistols to his arms and to his legs. he glares a wolfishly smile at you, baring the shark-like teeth that you gaze in short surprise at, and asks in a teasingly tone, “like what you see, darlin'?”, observing how you blink owlishly at him. but then, he's becomes sort of surprised when you nod your head and confirm that—yes, you like his appearance and how the color scheme matches altogether, while indirectly  commenting how he's a good-looking cowboy.
boothill, after his turn of blinking at you, grins and narrows his eyes with an intrigued look in them; amused by you and how you don't seem in the slightest.. nervous or terrified in his presence. you perked the cyborg's interest.
finishing the small talk with the man, you mention that you'll be needing to go somewhere for an errand and boothill takes the opportunity to offer a ride there on his horse—as a thanks for retrieving his horse, taking in your surprised expression with a grin as he ends the sentence with a “darlin'”. he insists, even if you refuse, so you decide that it'll be quicker to go in a horse ride with the cowboy than rather walking by foot as you were given no other choice.
with boothill's assistance, you were boosted onto the horse and instructed by him to hold on as he looks back at you, flashing a toothy grin and a finger tilting his hat just slightly for a short moment before you and him rode off towards where you were needed to be at with his horse. startled by the increasing speed his horse was going, you instinctively grasp onto the cyborg cowboy's built body in order to not fall off during the ride accidentally—boothill grins at your expression, his laughter going with the wind, “better hol' on tight for now, sweetheart. this'll be a rough ride! i'll get ya to where yer headin' in no time!”
Tumblr media
© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 508.
Tumblr media
331 notes · View notes
babey-lewis · 23 days
Text
Hello my little love, I've missed you so much. Will you come and hug Bubba? Would that be okay? Yeah? Thank you, my snuggle bug, mmm, I need my babies hugs! I've missed you so much... I'm so glad we are together today <3
196 notes · View notes
lovelythief · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋
Tumblr media
𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿
𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not the gentle whir of the automatic centrifuge nor the soft scratching of pen on paper were enough to cover the light footsteps that carefully approaches you from behind. You smile, but don’t turn from your messy notebook.
You always preferred the peaceful isolation of the late-night laboratory, being able to freely work on personal research projects without having to bump past coworkers or being interrupted by higher ups searching for answers. Still, you don’t necessarily mind this certain distraction.
“Working late again, sunshine?” Leon’s soft words send a shiver up your spine as he rests his head on your shoulder, sliding up and fitting himself naturally against your back, lazily draping his arms around your waist. You wonder how much of your notes he understands—if he can read your handwriting at all, that is. Probably quite a bit; he’s always been a smart rookie.
You hum, but still don’t look at his pretty face, lest it distract you too much in this rare peace. The view of his soft bangs and button nose from your peripheral are enough to have your heart skip a beat anyways. “No rest for the wicked,” you say. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone home yet.”
“Can’t be that surprised; we both practically live here anyways.” Leon huffs dramatically, dragging his fingers across your stomach and squeezing his arms around you in an attempt to rile up some sort of reaction from you.
You should’ve seen it coming, leaving yourself open and vulnerable like that.
You whine his name, affectionate and light as he pulls an uncontrollable laugh from your lips and you nearly crumple back in his embrace. You breathe heavily for a moment and your cheeks flush red with realization. The centrifuge clicks off as you stand in silence.
Leon’s stunned expression definitely matches your own shock.
“Sweetheart…” he starts, but words fail him for a moment as he bares his teeth between a wolfish grin. “You never told me you’re ticklish.”
You swallow, looking at the mirth growing in Leon’s blue eyes and realizing very suddenly how fucked you are, trapped between a man with a very obvious idea and the sturdy countertop. “Leon Kennedy,” you stammer, hands gripping your notebook tightly, “you wouldn’t.”
Leon smiles into your shoulder. “Guess all these late shifts keeping you from me are starting to pay off,” he says. He gently loosens his arms from your waist, watching your subtle expressions and feeling you shift against him with the intensity of a trained hawk.
“Leon—!”
You can’t even finish getting his name out before you squeal like a child, feeling the rough pads of his fingers through layers of clothes as he tickles you mercilessly, pulling laugh after laugh from your pretty lips. Even light strokes has your stomach tensing.
He says your name in the same tone, laughing alongside you.
You drop the notebook on the table as your hands scramble to grasp at his wrists, but you’re not nearly strong enough to pull them away from your vulnerable sides. Your knees buckle and laughter turns breathy as you lean into your cheeky boyfriend while he keeps you giggling in the palms of his hands.
Your eyes water, chest burns, and legs shake. “W-Wait, I—I can’t,” you beg between gasps, “stop, Le—on!”
He stops almost immediately, realizing that maybe mercilessly tickling his partner wasn’t the smartest idea. “Fuckin’ adorable,” Leon coos, peppering kisses on your hot cheeks and holding you tightly against his chest while you rest limply against him.
You heave a sigh, grateful for the way the air fills your lungs again. “This is why,” you take a large breath, “I didn’t tell you I was ticklish!”
“Not bad for your first time,” he says. The innuendo isn’t lost on you, and you pinch his skin with the blunt edges of your nails until he starts mumbling ow, ow, ow and pulling his arm away.
“Cheeky bastard, coming in here and making a mess of me—“
“—yeah, yeah, ‘m sorry.” Leon noses your neck and gently sways you.
You relax a little when you sees his smile, but can’t help yourself from teasing him a little more. “You’re awful,” you pout, “absolutely the worst.”
“Mm, I love you too.”
“Ugh.”
“I’ll tickle the attitude out of you if I have to.”
“You—!”
621 notes · View notes
trigunwritings · 1 year
Text
Bad Habits (and Dutiful Husbands)
Rating: General
Relationships: Fem!Reader/Wolfwood/Vash
Summary: Vash and Wolfwood have to take care of a job, but their thoughts are still with their wife.
Written by @blood--hunter
Note: Reader is referred to as wife and uses she/her. Various pet names are also used through the writing.
Tumblr media
The lighter sparked to life with only one flick. Wolfwood sighs in relief, lifting the small dancing flame to his cigarette as if it were as delicate as a butterfly. Just as he’s about to cup his hand—mostly out of habit— around the end, there is the sound of a gunshot.
In the same breath that the bullet meets his cigarette, Nicholas lets out a sigh. He had known it was going to happen, but it was still an annoyance that made his teeth grind.
“Seriously?” He asks, flickering dark eyes to the man walking towards him. Vash was dressed in his usual red coat as always, blond hair waving gently in the desert wind. “You couldn’t even let me have one drag?”
Though his gun was nowhere to be seen, Vash was the only one stupid enough to literally shoot something out of Nicholas D. Wolfwood’s mouth and not expect any consequences or accidental injuries.
“You heard the little lady.” Vash said, taking the final few steps to stand before his husband. “No more smoking. It’s bad for your lungs!”
Nick gnashed his teeth again, leaning against the large, cross-shaped gun that was behind him. Vash was, unfortunately, right. Their wife had strict orders for him not to smoke anymore largely out of concern for his health. He hadn’t the heart to tell her that his newfound powers would keep anything like cancer at bay, instead acquiescing to her and Vash’s whims than try to make the argument.
“Whatever,” He spits, turning his eyes to the ruined, ramshackle house before him. Within was hidden the Glass Gang, known for burning down any town they went through and turning the sand itself to glass in their wake. They preferred fire as their weapon of choice, and there was a bounty on them that could cover the bills for months. “At least I didn’t show up late.”
“Aw, c’mon, I just got a little held up.”
Wolfwood didn’t comment—with Vash, the excuse was probably literal.
He hoists his gun onto his shoulder, letting it sit there as he sauntered to the front door.
“Hey,” the man said, banging loudly at the door that held on by barely one hinge, “Come on out!”
“Could be a little more polite.” Vash sighs, but he stands there regardless, hovering over Nick’s shoulder like a worried hen.
Ever since they’d gotten married he had started doing that. He did it to their wife too, hovering, fidgetting, worrying about their health and how they felt. It was Vash’s way of showing how he cared, so Nick allowed it, and sometimes—only sometimes—he even found it cute. Their wife had told him that he needed to accept some things, like people caring about him, when they got married. Her words rang in his ears in moments like these.
It’s because he loves you, Wolfwood. Let him.
“Ain’t commin’ out!” A voice finally rings from inside.
He sighs. Sometimes he wished he’d just picked a different profession. Maybe being the town preacher would have been better, but it never really stuck and—if he were an honest man—he preferred sticking to Vash’s side. Otherwise, their wife would have done it and he didn’t think he could bare being the one at home taking care of things while she and their husband was out earning money.
Vash pipes up before Wolfwood can think of anything to say. “We have donuts!”
“Really?”
Nick raises a brow, looking to his husband. Vash is subtly shaking his head no.
So, it was a lie, then.
The voice inside responds all the same, “Then I guess I will!”
Nick has enough forethought to leap away from he door, grabbing Vash by the edge of his sleeve and hauling ass. Just as they get clear the slab of wood is kicked open— a burst of flames taking up the space where they had just stood.
Vash whines from beside them as they hit the sand. He looks over his shoulder to see a tall man—taller than even Vash— standing in the doorway. The gang-member held a huge flame thrower in his hands, complete with a large tank attached to the back of it, probably filled with some sort of fuel.
“What? No donuts for me!” The man says, a wide, hungry grin on his face, “Or are they all burnt?” Nick rolls his eyes but Vash chuckles, even if it is a little awkward.
“So,” His husband speaks from beside him as they both stand, dusting themselves off. “No way we can convince you to just turn yourselves in?”
“‘Fraid not.”
“Well, that stinks.” Vash sighs, “And here I told my wife that I wouldn’t get into any trouble today.”
“Our wife,” Wolfwood corrects, expression straight and unwavering.
The gang-member’s face crumples in confusion and discuss. “Your wife? What kind of woman would marry you two assholes?”
Nicholas lifts the punisher, taking aim for the tank of fuel, but Vash stops him with a firm hand on the end of his gun.
“Now, now, no need to go insulting us.”
The man chuckles. Nicholas’ frown deepens. One more stupid word and he was going to be eating lead.
“Nah, I won’t insult you anymore. But I am gonna make your little lady at home eat your ashes!”
He lifts his flame thrower. Vash dodges out of the way, rolling to the man’s side while Wolfwood goes the other way both of them are flanking him but as they get into position gun fire erupts from the house. The rest of the gang was joining the party.
Fine by him.
Wolfwood strafes with the weight of his weapon on his shoulder, letting bullets strip through the house’s walls. He knew Vash didn’t want anyone killed, and he didn’t want to disappoint his husband, but it was better to lay down covering fire and risk maiming someone than get killed themselves. Their wife would never forgive them if the both of them didn’t come back in one piece.
Vash, for his part, acclimates quickly to the new scenario and moves to be behind the large man. Unwilling to fire at—what seems to be—their boss, or to get hit themselves, the gang-members stop firing, probably to attempt to repossession themselves.
Their leader growls deep in the back of his throat, trying to swing around to set Vash ablaze but Wolfwood’s husband is too fast, and manages to stay behind him as he swings from side to side.
“Get back here you little freak!”
“No thanks! I don’t wanna end up roasted!”
“Fight fair damnit!”
“Nope!”
As the two of them continue to bicker, Wolfwood makes his way into the house. There are five other gang members and all of them are scrawny, hungry men who aren’t very hard to take down now that their cover is gone and their boss is preoccupied. After tying them up with rope as one big group he emerges from the house again.
Vash has his hands raised, a simpering smile on his face as the boss points the nozzle of his flame-thrower at the other man.
“Got you now!”
Wolfwood sighs, rolling his eyes. “When are you going to stop playing with him?”
The boss smiles wide, eyeing him. “What? So you want me to roast your husband right in front of your eyes!”
“Wasn’t talking to you.”
The man’s face crumples in confusion, but it’s Vash who speaks next. “Oh, I was just gonna let him get this out of his system first.”
With a click the gang-member attempts to light his weapon. Then another click. And another.
Click. Click. Click.
It’s only now that he realizes the tank of fuel is long gone, Vash having gotten rid of it long before Wolfwood even went into the house.
“W-What?!”
“Sorry buddy, couldn’t let you go around setting people on fire!”
Before the man can say anything more, he’s on the ground and his hands are tied behind his back.
Another long breath leaves Nicholas and he grabs for his cigarettes without thinking. He barely has time to put it in his mouth before a gunshot rings out, knocking it away once again.
“God damnit blondie!”
“Hey! Wifey’s orders!”
651 notes · View notes
littlekenzii · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
horsy!
73 notes · View notes
honeybeewritings · 1 year
Text
it's okay little love[r.l.]
✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: anxiety about regressing, trying to stop the regression process, remmy being the sweetest caregiver(even if you didn't ask)
✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: caregiver!remus lupin x little!gn!reader
✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 732 words
✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you try not to regress all day but everything keeps making you feel small. good thing remmy knows what to do.
✰ 𝐀/𝐍: for all my babies who are scared of telling their s/o they regress. it's okay to be scared but i bet they'll still adore you.
requested by anon: friendly reminder that requests are open
also, i've been having a lot of nsfw blogs follow me so dni if nsfw: this is a safe space for all kiddos
Tumblr media
you and remus have been going out for a bit. not long but it was long enough that he knew which shops in diagon alley that you liked most.
or so he thought.
he had no idea you were an age regressor and you planned on keeping it that way. he was the sweetest, you knew that, but the thought of him knowing terrified you. you've had more than you fair share of meanies.
you were comfortably walking around diagon alley, holding your boyfriends hand, when you noticed a new shop. you looked closer and it was a toy store.
oh no.
you squeezed remmy's hand and tried not to bite your nails or nervously scratch your arms.
"y' alrigh' love?" remmy asked, squeezing your hand back. you just nodded and walked a little bit faster past the shop, remus matching your pace.
you slowed down and let out a breath. remus looked at you as if to ask "you sure you're okay?" to which you just nodded again.
"i'm fine remus. just saw... um, someone from school. just didn't wanna run into them is all," you lied.
he looked at you questioningly but let it go.
but once you saw the toy store it seemed everything was going to trigger your regression.
"i... need to use the toilet." you told remus, letting go of his hand. "i'll be back."
remus nodded and smiled. "alright. i have a store to go to that i'm not sure you'll like. i'll do that and be right back."
you smiled at your boyfriend and went to the bathroom, trying to keep yourself big. big kid thoughts. like taxes.
you came out after a few minutes and remus was outside, as he said he would be, with a paper bag in his hand.
"what'cha got there?" you asked. even though he said you wouldn't like the store you were still curious.
"nothing darling. how about some ice cream?" he suggested. "it's the best ice cream in london darling." he said excitedly. "just a scoop then we'll go back t'mine yeah?"
you smiled at his excitement and nodded in agreement. "alright. i can go for some ice cream." you agreed.
you and remus got your ice creams from florean fortescue and made your way back to his house. you two took the tube in london, taking it as far as you were allowed, and walked the rest of the way to his house in the country.
it wasn't too terrible a trip but you nervously tried to stop yourself from regressing. you were quieter than usual and remus noticed.
he draped an arm over your shoulders and squeezed your arm a bit. you're safe with me.
his parents weren't home, for which you were grateful, and you sat on his bed with him.
"y'know..." he started slowly. "i got you something while we were in diagon alley.
you were confused because he didn't say anything. "oh, remus... i didn't get you anything."
he shook his head and handed you the paper bag. "don't worry about that. i just... um... i think you should open it." he nodded toward the bag.
he seemed nervous about your reaction as you opened it. you kept an eye on remus as you opened the back and gasped at the stuffie remus bought for you.
it was the softest little niffler plush, as well as the cutest. "i love it remmy!" you squealed, nearly tackling your boyfriend to the ground.
"you gonna name it?" he asked. oh he knew what he was doing now... and you absolutely loved it!
you sat back on his bed and shrugged. "mmm, i dunno. wet's name 'im together." you smiled. remus sat next to you and draped an arm across your shoulders.
"hm..." remus tapped a finger against his chin in mock thought. "well, let's think. what are some of your absolute favorite things in the whole world?"
you made a face. "in da whole wide worl'?" you asked, to which remmy nodded. "wet's name 'im... remmy."
"remmy sounds like a good name, i like it."
"it's yours silly goose!" you giggled.
"mine?" he asked. "why, i've never heard it."
"silly goose."
"just know, it's okay little love. i still love you."
your little lip wobbled and you squeezed remus as hard as you could. "tanks 'emmy. luv u so so mush."
"i love you too."
404 notes · View notes
dcawritings · 4 months
Text
You are the manager of the daycare (and Sun by extension). Some people think this means you don't care if he gets yelled at.
This assumption is wildly inaccurate, and you are not afraid to professionally threaten correct them.
Tumblr media
You're in the middle of something important.
It's been clinging at your thoughts all day while you tried desperately to ignore it, but at some point it became impossible to deny the truth--technically, it had a higher priority than everything you decided to complete much earlier in the shift.
And unfortunately that leaves you stuck at your desk, staring down hard at the collection of intake forms and spreadsheets. You know it won't take more than half an hour, but that time would be some of the most horrible, boring, downright painful minutes of your life.
Could you push it off until tomorrow? Maybe Monday even?
No, you ultimately decide, the paperwork needed to be done. There was no point to pushing it back again--it still needed to be forwarded to the document filing team, then to human resources, and that would only end up making your job harder in the end since only then could you finalize everything.
By the time that you'd actually relegated yourself to sitting down and getting the work done, the day was nearly over with--parents were starting to come in and pick up their children.
Some were kids of employees that worked at the Pizzaplex itself; childcare cost was heavily discounted for workers of any department, so it was extremely convenient for many who simply didn't have any other options. They were also some of the sweetest kids you'd ever met, if only because they were very familiar with the daycare and its rules. Other children were simply dropped off because the guardians wanted some time to enjoy the facility themselves for a few hours or so. The process for checking a child out was the same regardless, and typically very painless after a parent knew to expect the process.
Normally you don't need to worry about assisting with child pickups. You had several employees that were expected to make sure the process was quick and smooth, though there was only two on the clock right now--a couple call-outs had left you with less people than you'd like on such a busy day, but the two working today were some of your best and longest-term employees. They handled plenty of crazier days, so you trusted them to keep things together when office work took precedence over smaller tasks that kept you visible and available even for the kids themselves.
So, one can imagine your utter surprise when the sound of disdained yelling suddenly echoes through the daycare. Not just a little yelling either; it's shrill, with enough intensity that it reaches all the way to your back office and that... that takes a lot. Enough that it immediately tugs at your instincts to investigate.
The words aren't clear enough to make out, so you push yourself away from the desk and leave the office, then out of the hallway into the main daycare area.
It doesn't take more than a breath of time to realize who is making all the noise--a parent. They're standing near the front of the daycare, but not where they're supposed to be.
The check-out desk was located in the small room overlooking the daycare's main play area, separated by plexiglass and rope netting. Not only was it supposed to be an easier way to get kids comfortable in being away from their parents (they literally arrive in the daycare by way of a slide into a ball pit), but it also served as a form of security--nobody could enter the daycare without proper credentials, and there was always someone posted up there to greet anyone coming to drop off or pick up their child.
But this one? Somehow, this one came through an employee-only entrance. That audacity alone would make your blood boil, but the fact that you recognized the woman only made it worse.
Her shrill screaming filled the room with venom while she clutched her son against her hip, as if trying to shield him from the poor daycare attendant animatronic who was, as best as he could, diffuse the situation.
It doesn't take long to get an idea of what she's going off about either--the woman is not particularly quiet about it.
"When I leave my son here, I expect that he will be safe!" she hisses, brushing her son's hair as if trying to soothe the child. "And what do I find when I come to pick him up? That he's been manhandled and tossed around like a toy--you're lucky he didn't break a bone!"
The young boy doesn't look injured, and if anything he seems more scared of his mother.
Travis, you recall his name--a rather quiet boy, didn't always like to play with other kids. His mother, Sarah, worked in one of the back offices as a programmer. Her hours were always odd, so his father tended to be the one to drop the boy off. Now you understand why.
The thing was, Travis really liked playing with Sun. Since he was shy, the daytime bot often took it upon himself to try and encourage the boy to take part in craftime or storytime--he'd recently been able to get him to play in the ball pit with the other kids his age.
"This kind of behavior is completely inexcusable," she finally seethes, a look of one-note rage in her eyes that seemed to burn the longer she looks at the animatronic. "I will make sure to put in a complaint about this--"
"I-I am sorry that you think your son was h-harmed, Miss Martin. I assure you that h-he was just playing with the other kids." Sun lifts his hands up in a passive way, trying desperately to keep her from screaming more. People were starting to stare at the unfolding scene, and it was quickly coming undone at the seams. "I am incapable of doing anything that w-would put any little superstars in danger!"
Sarah's eyes gleam with poison as she seems to catch her claws on a hook. "Oh, so you're saying you're defecting from your programing?"
"N-no! Not at all! My programming is clean as a whistle, I have it debugged at r-regular intervals!"
"I work in the programming department," she says, voice going quiet. "With the glamrock series code. Directly down the hall from the man who makes decisions about every machine in this facility. All it would take is for me to walk right down to his office and let him know that the daycare is turning into a severe liability for the company." You are already hurrying over, not missing the way Sunny's fists start to clench tight, tight enough for his joints to squeal under the pressure as he restrains himself. He's trying so hard to keep his professionalism under the abuse--and Sarah seems to know exactly what to say.
"Your model is old. Your code is old. It's a shoddy piece of work that should be scrapped and redone, I've been telling them that for months now. They'd be better of scrapping you so we can finally have room for another glamrock and-"
You waste no time in immediately stepping directly into the line of fire, forcing yourself into the space between Sun and Sarah who has, until that moment, been encroaching closer and closer into his personal space. Was she trying to set him off? To see how far he would take the abuse before saying something wrong?
Probably. You wouldn't put it past a cruel woman like her at this point.
"What seems to be the problem here?" you say, fake smile wide and tone forcibly friendly. "I sure heard you all the way from my office!"
"Oh no dear, don't worry, it's nothing you need to concern yourself about," the woman says, waving her hand at you as if expecting her words to be like an order. "Though you can be a dear and go fetch the manager?"
You don't move, but clench your jaw tight and force the words through your teeth, "I happen to be the manager of the daycare, so if there is an issue or complaint, then I need to know about it! So please," the fake smile drops and you stare at her hard. "What is the problem here?"
Sarah's expression twitches with annoyance, but she tries to immediately save face by gesturing to her son and acting as if she was the one getting yelled at.
"Well, I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but my son has been injured because of your animatronic!"
You glance over at Travis. The poor kid is no older than eight, and he's trying to stare down at his shoes, his face flushed red with embarrassment and shame.
"Hey, little buddy," you kneel down to be closer to eye-level with him. "Did something happen to get you hurt?"
He shakes his head before his mother can try to interject. When you try to ask him another question she finally puts a hand between his gaze and yours, breaking it and forcing you to look back at her.
"That thing is running on severely old, broken code," she says, tone low and voice slow, as if trying to communicate an unspoken threat. "It's only a matter of time before something happens. Before someone gets hurt. I don't understand why they haven't just decommissioned the abhorrent thing. Doesn't even look as cute as the glamrocks."
Oh. So she's chosen death?
No. Breathe. Slowly. Remember how things work. Remember to play it smart. She wants you to get angry, needs to get a response out of you just so she can use it to cry to upper management.
Be smart about this. Be smart and unyielding. It takes every ounce of restraint not to deck the woman in the nose right there--but you at least have an upper hand.
"Who is your direct manager?"
"Huh?"
You stare at her expectantly, letting the silence fill the room before finally clarifying and repeating yourself. "Who. Is. Your. Direct. Manager?"
"I-I don't know how that's relevant to the current problem we're trying to solve."
"Well," you finally say, pulling out your company-assigned mini pad and scrolling through the employee database. "I need to get into contact with them about your behavior. Obviously you've forgotten several very important policies and I want to make sure you're educated on them as need be."
"Wh-what policies?" Sarah demands. "I haven't broken anything--that thing is what we're talking about right now."
You shake your head, proud of the even tone to your voice even though you want nothing more than to scream and yell at her in kind.
"First, you enter the daycare using an unapproved door-"
"I am an employee for the company-!"
"-and even employees are not allowed to use that door. It is for daycare attendants and handlers only. It is an active security measure to ensure the safety of little superstars like your son, whom you obviously seem to care for the safety of, right?"
She is silent, sputtering, taken aback by your confidence or simple knowledge of how to play the system correctly.
"Second, I have you on record actively harassing a coworker. Not only are you specifically not using his preferred pronouns, you are also belittling and demeaning him and his ability to do his job correctly. A job which I will remind you is difficult and stressful and comes with a wide variety of nuance."
You take the opportunity to step forward. Not too far, just a little idle step. Enough to take control and apply pressure to the situation.
"I'm sorry that you can't seem to understand the subtlety of how kids tend to play around Travis' age, and I'm sorry that you don't seem to care about the fact that he has been making very good progress in getting to know the other kids--specifically because of Sun's hard work with him."
Another small, calculated step. Sarah retreats from how she's looming forward, and you can see the tension in her jaw.
"Harassing a coworker? I haven't said anything to-"
"Sun? You mean one of my employees? The very one I heard you screaming at?" You shrug, managing to seem coldly nonchalant with surprising ease--maybe it's the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Between the heat of your words, you feel one of Sun's hand gently grabbing the back of your shirt. Not tugging, just holding on. "I mean, if you like we can go into my office and I can pull the cameras--if I misunderstood something then surely we can go over the recording and find out where I'm not getting that right."
That's the final push. Sarah knows she can't win the argument or force you to back down from a legitimate, honest-to-god threat. Despite being in a different department, technically you are still above her; you already know her manager. Marcus was a pretty easy-going guy that had a lot of sympathy for the animatronics, so it wouldn't take much for him to write her up from your word alone.
"I... well, maybe I just misunderstood," the woman finally says, her smile cold and not reaching her eyes. "No need to make this a big deal or anything! I will make sure to use the right door next time, my mistake."
Your mouth moves faster than your brain can stop them--it's edging on the line of being appropriate for someone of your position, but you need to make sure this woman understands that you are willing to hold your ground.
"Please do, because if I hear of something like this happening again? I will ban you outright from the daycare facility."
Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but she's already lost. You have the authority to decline service to anyone, and at least with this situation you were grateful to have that power.
Sarah hurries out of the room without another word. You feel bad for Travis--the kid really didn't deserve to be in the middle of all that--but he offers some assurance by turning around to try and wave before the two of them disappear beyond the door.
You barely get a chance to let out a held breath before a pair of hurried footsteps approach you.
"Is everything okay?" one of the attendants ask. She's normally so soft spoken, but you can hear the genuine concern leaking through the words. "I knew as soon as I saw Sarah things would be bad--she always tries to find something to yell about when she picks Travis up."
"Yeah," the other worker echoes, then turns to speak to Sun. "I am so sorry you ended up with her, Sunny. If I knew she had used the door down here I would have immediately left the intake room."
The two of them started to crowd around you and Sun a bit more than you liked. Jesus, how was Sun even doing?
"We're okay, it's fine just-" another sigh spills from your lips, exhaustion taking the space where adrenaline had kept you so still and composed. "You two go make sure the other kids are okay? That was a lot of screaming for them to hear."
With only a little more consoling they finally move away to check on the few kids still waiting to get picked up. It leaves you and Sun alone at least, a vague amount of privacy.
You turn around, not sure what to expect from the animatronic--but it's a surprise all the same to find him staring at you with wide, as if unbelieving eyes. There's a sense of tension hidden somewhere in his expression, but its overshadowed by something else. Something hard to read.
"... Are you okay, Sunny?" you finally ask in a soft, gentle voice. He looks down, peering at the multicolored carpet silently. All it takes is the soft touch of your hand gently touching the side of his faceplate to make him twitch, listening but still not looking at you. "Don't you worry about anything, okay? She's just a cruel nobody who likes making other people feel bad. I will make sure she's not allowed anywhere beyond the intake room and make a recommendation that Travis' dad be the only one who can pick him up."
He is still silent, but you're relieved to see his body loosen. All that tension, all that heartache and anger, almost all gone in an instant.
"Sunny...?"
After a moment, the animatronic finally tilts his face into your touch. Before you can ask or say anything else, however, he sweeps you into his arms in a tight hug. So tight in fact that he begins to spin you around in a circle, stopping only when he's done sputtering.
"You didn't have to do all that for little ol' me! Someone so busybusy like you shouldn't need to deal with parents at all--you're so silly, starlight!"
Despite the fact that his words try to sound casual, you saw every sign in the book that Sun had barely been taking the woman's verbal abuse. You can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't shown up--would he have snapped? Would she have threatened something worse?
"Oh goodness please put me down Sunny-" you lean into his arms as the room slowly stops spinning around you. Then, when you collect yourself, you offer him a warm and genuine smile. "Sunshine, you are one of my employees, and nobody deserves to be talked down to like that at all. It's not fair for her to treat you like that-" you catch a look of worry somewhere in his eyes, and so you quickly add, "-and I will never let you be decommissioned. There isn't anything wrong with you, so don't let her empty threats put a rain cloud over you."
It's only in that moment that you realize how tightly his hands are grasping at your uniform.
"... you... promise?"
He's more scared of that then he ever lets on.
"I promise," you say with complete confidence. "Nobody will ever hurt you on my watch, Sun. You and Moon both. They'll have to go through my stubborn ass first--and I actually memorized most of the employee handbook anyway."
"Starlight!" he says, sounding shocked.
"Wh-what?"
"Language."
You chuckle, the sound rumbling through your chest as you bring a hand over your face. You'll have to touch base with Sun again once the other kids and employees have left for the night, but at least he's doing better.
And you're still sending a message to Marcus about her--she'll be lucky if she doesn't get a huge write-up for that outburst.
74 notes · View notes
brittscafe · 1 year
Note
Hi!!!! How are you doing? I hope you’re good! I was hoping I could request something with byakuya? Maybe you guys are serious and he’s thinking of proposing and he sees you spending time with rukia, renji, and their daughter and sees how much they love you and how well you fit in with the ppl he cares about and he’s like “😍 yep this is it for me” thank you so much!!!!
YESSS OMFG I WOULD GET ON MY KNEES FOR BYAKUYA!! I really loved writing this and I'm considering writing a part 2, where he actually proposes.
(I'm like 99.9 % sure that Renji's and Rukia's daughter is called Ichika, but please correct me if I'm wrong)
Tumblr media
The cherry blossoms float in the soft wind as it gently carries them to the ground. Byakuya's eyes are locked onto yours, walking ahead of him.
Your hair bouncing and your soul reaper's cloak flowing behind you. His eyes are full of love, admiration, and pure respect for you.
"Y/N!" Ichika calls out, running towards you with opened arms and the widest smile you ever saw. You get down onto your knees and open your arms just as Ichika runs into them.
She wraps her tiny arms around your neck and you carefully stand up straight, keeping a tiny grip on the little.
Byakuya's breath hitches in his throat and his stomach churns with warmth as you spin around facing him with your white teeth winking at him.
"She was so excited to see you. She practically ran out of the house without us," Rukia comments with a soft voice, standing beside Renji.
"Well, I was very excited to see you too, Ichika," you announce, setting her back down on the ground.
Ichika reaches down a pick up a petal of a cherry blossom. Her tiny eyes examine the pink petal and she glances back up at you.
"Someone told me that Byakuya makes the cherry blossoms bloom only for you," Ichika blurts out and your stomach twists into knots.
You glance back at Byakuya and the hues of pink hit his cheeks. He quickly glances away from you and clears his throat.
"That is only a myth," Byakuya announces, readjusting his posture.
"Myth? Are you sure?" you chuckle out, shooting him a glance. Byakuya's hand rests in his pocket, slightly nudging the ring box in his deep pocket.
It was no Myth. In the early spring, he would make them bloom just for you. Usually, the wind would carry the cherry blossoms too, but Byakuya would make them float around you sometimes. He loves to see your face light up and he will even chuckle when you start to dance around them.
He does it for you. He does all of it for you.
"Some myth. I wish somebody would make the cherry blossoms bloom for me, " Renji scoffs out quietly, glancing down at Rukia. She rolls her eyes with annoyance
"Or she could turn you into a nice cold popsicle," you suggest and Rukia bursts out laughing.
"I like that idea much better," she nods her head and a frown spreads across Renji's face.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We should head to the lantern festival soon," Renji announces, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Rukia smiles warmly and nods her head, grabbing onto Ichika's hand and guiding her along the path.
"We'll be right behind you," Byakuya informs them as Renji, Rukia, and Ichika start heading down the path.
You glance back over at your shoulder as Byakuya as he starts to walk up to you, holding out his large palm. He gives you a slight smile as his dark bangs fall into his face and you grab onto his hand.
You spin around your heel and face him, reaching out towards him. Byakuya's eyes slightly widen and his expression drops as you gently push back his bangs.
You place your hand on his warm cheek and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and relaxing.
Byakuya dips his head down and connects your lips together. He kisses you slow and gentle, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Your stomach fills with butterflies.
"We should go before they start to wonder where we are," you whisper against his lips and he smiles warmly.
Byakuya follows behind you, admiring your every step, knowing there's no way he could love you anymore than he already does.
163 notes · View notes
zimsrightantenna · 2 months
Text
I've seen variants of "sfw interaction" and "nsfw dni" on posts but I'm unsure what the posters mean so let's do a poll
If you're in a sfw circle please consider reblogging so more people can give their definition
(Rating definitions under the cut for anyone who doesn't know, and you're supposed to vote for your highest tolerance, for example if you vote "tags have to be PG-13" it is assumed that you're okay with the blog being anywhere from PG-13 to explicit content, but the tags can only be G or PG-13. Similarly if you vote "blog can't be M rated" it's assumed the tags can't be M rated either, but PG-13 interactions and blogs are fine and R-rated fall in a grey zone that you can elaborate on in the tags)
G rated — general audiences, all ages, suitable to be seen by children (12 and under), no violence, offensive language, or sexual activity of any kind.
PG-13 — parental guidance, content not suited for kids under 13, may include swearing, very light/inconsequential/unrealistic violence? Kissing?
R — restricted, 17 and under need a parent present, some adult content including swearing, violence, sexual content
M rated — mature, for adults, no minors, but not graphic in nature
E rated — explicit, for adults, no minors, graphic violence, gore, graphic sex
NSFW — not suitable to look at at most workplaces, your boss will not like it if you're viewing this on the clock
23 notes · View notes
raviolirawrs · 2 months
Note
tara tkl hcs?? lee & ler pls :)
tkl hcs | tara carpenter edition
these aren't all obviously but i have to stop somewhere xD
some hcs inspired by : @blushyeleven 💛 requested by : i know who you are and i'mma get you back for it hehe
Tumblr media
as a lee :
✧ “ DENY DENY DENY ” that’s her motto. she doesn’t want anyone knowing she’s ticklish but once discovered, she gets crazy flustered and can’t stop smiling.
✧ she’s a screamer. hit her death spots and she shrieks like crazy.
✧ she’s a kicker. that’s the head canon.
✧ on the outside she objects big time to being tickled, but on the inside, she actually enjoys it and doesn’t fight much when attacked.
✧ due to her asthma, she tends to wheeze, cough, and gasp through her vocalizations. but as long as she is still smiling and laughing, she’s good.
✧ she immediately gets flustered when anything with the word “ tickle ” is said. 
✧ she's the BIGGEST squirmer. not just with tickling, with literally anything. sleeping, cuddling, being pinned, etc. she just moves. a lot.
✧ death spots ??? stomach/sides and toes
✧ after being wrecked, she wants cuddles. that’s her thing. she loves cuddling and will most likely fall asleep because her energy level hits rock bottom if the tickling is intense.
✧ lowkey still believes in the tickle monster as much as she did when she was little. like say " i'm the tickle monster " and wiggle your fingers and she's a blushing, smiling, giggling mess.
✧ having a tickle fight ? she's determined to WIN. she's very competitive. but 9 times outta 10 ( especially with the other members of the core four ) she loses. but the " 1 " times she succeeds, she obsesses about it and take full bragging rights. she is dead serious about her wins.
as a ler :
✧ likes to whisper teases in your ear and in general, but mainly in your ear. she finds it fun and more or less adorable how her words can make you melt. she loves it tbh.
✧ will chase you if you run.
✧ SO PLAYFUL. as long as you’re having fun, she will keep tickling you. she enjoys spending time this way and finds herself giggling alongside your laughter.
✧ she likes sneak-attack tickles. catching you off-guard and spontaneously attacking is her favorite and she tries to make a move every chance she gets if given the opportunity ( and in the mood ofc hehe ).
✧ likes sitting on top of you because she feels more in control. She feels empowered when you melt at her fingertips. she can be playfully mean too - pinning your hands above your head, laughing at all your cute reactions, teasing you like there's no tomorrow. . . but she knows boundaries, so when you can’t breathe, are no longer having fun, or if your face gets too red and she gets concerned, she will seize. but if you want more, she will happily give it to you.
✧ did something she wants revenge on ? she will wreck you. ( all in good fun or for silly reasons ) pull a prank on her ? steal her clothes ? intentionally ignore her ? she’ll pounce on you like an alley cat.
✧ BUT. if you don’t like being tickled or are not in the mood to be, she respects that and will refrain.
21 notes · View notes
babey-lewis · 7 days
Text
Hey baby bug, I missed you!! Are you doing okay? Have you had any water and food today, little love? I hope you have, angel! You deserve to eat and drink today and every day, okay?
161 notes · View notes
lovelythief · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍' 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒
Tumblr media
𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷𝟶𝟷𝟸 𝚌𝚠; 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍
𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Forcing yourself to do chores after surviving another apocalypse is a weird fucking experience.
Leon Kennedy would be the first person to tell you how important it is to reestablish a routine after a tragedy, but knowing how important it is doesn’t make the reality of it any less jarring. How could anyone reasonably expect him to go from a short-term, high-stakes mission—where every decision was the difference between life and death—back into the mundanity of a 9-to-5 in a matter of days?
No rest for the wicked, he’d say. Gotta keep moving forward.
To him, the strangest part about all of it is actually coming home. No matter how many times Leon is welcomed back as a “hero” and praised for his good work, all pretenses are gone as soon as he walks into that swanky apartment he pays too much rent for each month. There’s still dishes to be washed. Trash to be taken out. Laundry to be folded. When he lived alone, he could easily ignore petty chores for as long as possible—surviving off take-out on paper plates, wearing the same jeans three times a week—but he won’t treat his roommate like a maid.
Sitting on the couch, he smiles as he watches you scurry around in the kitchen, eagerly cooking your first lunch together in maybe three weeks; his first hot meal in what feels like forever. It's not all bad, he thinks, not when you’re around. He doesn’t get much time to enjoy the view of your ass while you stretch over the counter to reach the flour in the cabinet before the buzzing of the dryer calls him back to work.
Leon trudges back into the laundry room alone, but he’s accompanied by a humming cover of your favorite band that carries throughout the house. He leaves the door open so he can hear you while he folds clothes, but the sizzling of pan-fried food drowns out your voice. Smells delicious, at least.
Leon grabs a warm pair of jeans first and mindlessly shoves his arm in the inverted leg to flip it, and immediately realizes how unusual the fabric feels against his forearm. He pulls the pant leg through and flaps it once, twice, in the air before stretching it out by the waistband and scrutinizing it, wondering if his jeans got fucked up somehow.
It takes him a moment to realize he doesn’t own this pair. It’s your laundry.
“Hey, babe?” Leon steps out of the room and raises his voice enough for you to hear, “Want me to fold your clothes?” It takes a moment for Leon to get a quiet “yes, please!” over the noise from the kitchen, but it’s enough.
He chuckles to himself and stands over the dryer, bringing both legs of your jeans together, tucking the middle, smoothing it out over his chest, and folding it into thirds. Simple. Brainless. It’s strange. Leon starts sorting your folded clothes into piles as he grabs and folds one of your work shirts. His folding isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s neat enough to get the job done.
It almost feels like a luxury Leon shouldn’t be able to afford; being able to relax in safety, comfort, and warmth while doing something so mundane like folding clothes when just last week he was experiencing hell.
But Leon forces himself not to dwell on it for long, as he distracts himself with a cat-themed sock from the pile that he’s only seen you wear in passing, turning it over in his hand to catch all of the details on it. He never noticed the fake toe-beans on the bottom of the socks before, and he can’t stop the grin that pulls at his cheeks. Damn, that’s cute. He runs his hand through your clothes in search of its pair, refusing to let it be lonely for long.
He folds everything from raincoats to bath towels; the piles he’s made already reaching his mid-chest in height. How much laundry did you do? It has to be at least several weeks’ worth. Leon thinks of all the late hours he knows you spend working and huffs. There’s some comfort in knowing you’re just as bad as he is with chores.
A soft shirt brushes his hand when he leans into the machine to start grabbing the bottom of the pile. He stretches it and turns it around to face him. It’s an oversized band tee-shirt with a long-faded print. It looks well-worn. Loved. He holds it for a moment longer before he folds it slowly, with more care than he offered to some of your other shirts, making sure to leave the logo visible on top.
There’s not much left in the dryer by the time Leon grabs some of your underwear. Most of them are plain, standard. Some of them are cute, with simple patterns or a lace trim, and he doesn’t think twice about them as he folds them. But his fingers fumble as he reaches in without looking, and catch against a small, thin piece of fabric.
Deep blue, lacy, and risqué. Leon’s breath chokes in his throat as he stares at the thong in his hand for way too long. Thoughts better kept to himself rush into his mind; of watching you saunter while wearing nothing but this to tease him, of snapping the waistband against your skin to hear you gasp, of pulling it down with his teeth to reveal—
—“Leon! Food’s ready!” your voice shocks Leon out of his haze.
He squares his jaw and quickly—sloppily—folds the thong and shoves it between some clothes before he’s tempted to tuck it in one of his pockets. The damn thing’s definitely going to haunt him when he has a moment to himself.
You call for him again, “Leon?”
“Comin’!” He clears his throat and slams the dryer door closed, grabbing the full laundry basket, unsure of how he’s going to look at you after that. And for a while, he forgets about everything else.
573 notes · View notes
trigunwritings · 1 year
Note
hello! may i request a wolfwood x fem!reader where he returns after being gone for a few days to find the reader wearing his shirt bc it smells like him and brings them comfort? newly-ish established relationship so it's not a sight he's seen before. fluff or smut would be great. thank you! 💖💖
It’s an odd feeling, settling down. Not something he had given much thought to before. Living a life that roamed from one place to the next had left the man without a true concept of home and the comfort a place like that offered.
The orphanage was the closest he could think that might fall into the description, but that still didn’t quite fit—a familiar place in his memories, but it had long faded away into just that: a memory. One that he thought back on fondly from time to time, and one that he defended fiercely when it was in danger. He even sent money from time to time when he could spare it.
But all the same, Wolfwood had never once considered himself as having a home to return to. He lived his life assuming he simply would never have one; that he would wander without any true anchor for the rest of his ever-decreasing days. Why did an undertaker need a home anyway? Who would even wait for the return of a person with blood on their hands and sin in their hearts?
Not exactly material for a family-man anyway. At least, that’s what Wolfwood often told himself.
But that’s when he met you.
And his entire perspective changed.
Instead of wandering, he rarely liked to stray far from your side—it left him antsy and reaching for so many cigarettes that the inside of his mouth burned from the smoke. The idea of leaving you alone, even if you weren’t truly by yourself, was a source of anxiety that the man had never quite felt before. He wanted to be there for you, to make sure you were safe and fed and healthy and happy.
So he often kept his trips short, whatever travel was absolutely necessary for an odd job here or there, things that kept him busy and out of the perception of not those who would hurt him, but anyone that might try to come after you.
This last job took way too long to get done. Though he’d been given a huge payment for discretion and speed, it didn’t negate the fact that he had to travel for almost two full days just to make it back to the small town the two of you had taken to living in—one that didn’t ask too many questions of a wayward priest who smoked through a pack faster than he could say a proper prayer.
He felt a little nervous as he opened the front door, ears picking up only the sound of the desert wind rolling across the sand. It was just past midday, so why was it so quiet? His brains pulled and picked at a readied set of ideas that could have happened, so he quickly stepped into the small home and all but dropped his weapon against the wall as he glanced about—
-only to see you laying in bed, sleeping. Wolfwood let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“God…” he murmured. “That got me way too worked up. Good t’be…”
Home, though the word remained unspoken as he stepped closer to the bed in preparation to reach a hand out and shake your shoulder to waken you. Before he could however, Wolfwood couldn’t help but notice something. Something you were wearing, oversized and quite familiar…
He let out a chuckle.
“Making it a habit of wearing my stuff, huh?”
You don’t reply, as his soft words don’t wake you. Instead your body curls up tighter, hands and arms entangled in a soft blanket in the same way that you often cling to the man when he is sleeping in bed with you—as if he might disappear.
Wolfwood considers his options for a few moments before finally deciding that it doesn’t really matter. Why the hell not? A nap sounded pretty damn good after all the walking he’d done in the last twelve hours alone.
He climbs into bed beside you, pulling you back against his chest and burying his nose into your hair. You make a soft noise in your sleep, and he holds you even tighter, not wanting to let you out of his arms for even a moment. Never wanting to be away from you for as long as he could help it.
Because that’s the moment he decides that he does have a home—and that home is with you.
269 notes · View notes
littlekenzii · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
>.<
64 notes · View notes
apollostea · 5 months
Text
Minato x Reader
Cozy Winter Season
|SFW|
Gender neutral
Tumblr media
You're sitting on the couch, warm and comfortable, protected by the cold, unforgiving snow of Konoha's winter. Despite your comfort, you feel a small tinge of anxiety.
You wonder if Minato is okay.
It is quite cold outside, especially with all the snow it must be hard for a shinobi to work in such conditions. Your eyes dart to the clock for a moment.
tick... tick... tick...
The sound of the clock's consecutive and rhythmic tick was a reminder of each second Minato did not arrive back home in time. But these thoughts of yours, they're nothing, nothing but thoughts, they aren't always true, and you know that. You remind yourself that it's often that he stays at the Hokage's office this late.
As a few seconds pass by, you unfocused your eyes from the clock and reintroduce your mind into the TV. You listen in to a cheerful show. It seemed to be a Claymation of a reindeer with a shiny red nose, a short and sweet movie.
As snow catches on the windows outside, you start to feel more relaxed. The snow on the window dims the room until you are left with a small few candle lights and the rays of the television.
The scents of the candles filling your nose with a pleasant newly baked cookie smell.
It was quiet...
And Peaceful...
Now, you know somewhere within yourself that he is okay. Shinobis are adept at adjusting to their surroundings, especially the hokage himself. And you knew he would be coming home soon.
Despite your nagging anxiety, you find solace in your thoughts and flop onto your side, your body relaxing as the couch curves to fit your body. Grabbing a pillow from underneath your neck, you position it just right so that it's right under your head.
As you rest, you hear something at the door.
The fumbling of keys, shuffling, and humming. You knew who it was.
It was your lovely Minato, here after a long day of work.
His hands struggled to put the key into the knob. Without even looking at him you knew he must be freezing.
You quickly got up with a small grunt, leaving your cozy and comfortable spot on the couch.
As you walked over to the door, you quickly and gently opened the door. Minato looked up from his keys and smiled happily, excited to see you. You're relieved to see him too as you quickly pulled him inside.
While being pulled in, snow trailed behind him, heaps piled up by the door and the balcony and now into your home.
A cold breeze from the outdoors sends a number of chills down your spine, all you wished for at the moment was Minato and to be cozy and warm with him again.
However, the snow trailing back into the house was none of your concern right now. You felt his cold body against yours and you shivered once again. His hands gently holding you as you brought him inside.
Minato looked down at you with a smile as he spoke in a calm manner.
"Ah- Thank you. I was having trouble opening the door, but I suppose that was because of how cold it is outside."
He chuckled slightly as you started to take off his coat that was covered in clumps of snow. You take your hand and gently rub it against his, letting your thumb glide across the back of his hand as you noticed how cold he was, it was almost incredible that he was able to make it back home without turning into an ice popsicle.
"You're freezing."
You whispered under your breath, sighing a bit.
You were worried for him regardless of if he was fine or not. And his calm manner and gentle demeanor of his was something special, he was so calm and happy all the time even after trudging through the snow to return back home.
"Gosh, Minato. Let me help you, you're freezing."
You urged him, still holding onto his body as you ushered him onto the couch with urgency.
All Minato did was look down at you with loving eyes and a small smile, his gaze filled with nothing but warmth and love as he willingly and quietly sat down on the couch.
"You're so good to me. What would I ever do without you?"
He smiled wider, a sense of comfort filled your heart as you looked at his face, his face turning a slight red from being reintroduced into a warmer environment after being in such a cold area. You couldn't help but smile yourself as you looked deep into his eyes for a few moments.
You grabbed the blanket you had previously been using and wrapped it around Minato's body with care, making sure nothing from his being was left out. All warm and cozy.
But was it enough?
After you ran through a few more blankets and pillows, you turn back to him, realizing how silly this looked.
Minato was absolutely covered in blankets and pillows, making him appear as if he was in a small tent.
"Wow. You've outdone yourself, huh?
He starts to laugh, but he loved how you wrapped him so tightly just to keep him warm, how you cared enough about him to open the door and how you so desperately kept him warm. His content eyes gazing longingly at you with affection.
You've tuckered yourself out...
Though you felt embarrassed by the sheer number of blankets you put on him, you still felt a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you tried to hide a smile, your cheeks blooming into a pink color.
You decided this was enough. You lay yourself down onto the couch, seeking comfort in the multiple blankets on the couch as you go under a few, crawling to get to Minato's body. He grips your torso and gently placed you on his chest, rubbing your temples with his cold and rough hands as you both begin to feel the heat of the house consume you.
You never thought you could love someone so much. As corny as it sounded, even in your head, everything you've heard about falling in love was right. This feeling was special, something important and valuable. You looked up at Minato's face, and though he was distracted at first, he noticed you in the corner of his eyes and gazed back down at you. He pulled you up some more and pressed gentle kisses on your forehead, one kiss after another around your face and head.
"You're so sweet."
He whispers, nuzzling your ear teasingly.
You were both happy, letting the warmth of the blankets envelop you completely as you melted into each other.
__________________________________________
Tumblr media
End...
42 notes · View notes
freeusebrat · 30 days
Text
Last month I was so horny and I let all my depraved fantasies get loose but this month I feel like I need soft touches, cuddles and kisses, I need to feel small and vulnerable in a non sexual way. I want to giggle against warm skin, hide on the crook of a shoulder and being in love but not actually?? More like comfortable, no more overthinking or worries or complicated feelings, just a good night sleep with somebody I can breathe easily.
10 notes · View notes