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hgfictionwriter · 2 days

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Comfort

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's surrounded by star athletes day in and day out - and you're not one of them. Sometimes you can't help but wonder why she chose you or if you fit in.

Warning: Smut. Language.

A/N: A bit of angst, but mostly comfort and reassurance. Written in response to this request.

“Okay, who’s ready for a game of pick-up?”

Your stomach sank as you looked over your shoulder to see Morgan holding up a ball before dropping it and skillfully lobbying it over to Sam.

Excited chatter started up and people started to move towards the field. You remained rooted to the ground as they navigated around you.

You were at a park with Jessie and a bunch of her teammates for a Saturday afternoon BBQ. The day had been fun so far, you got along with her teammates well and you’d been having a good time. You shouldn’t have been surprised that football would work its way into the day, regardless, you were hoping otherwise.

While everyone here was a star football player, most even Olympic medal athletes, you were just…well, you.

Somehow, you found yourself as the lucky recipient of Jessie’s love and affection. And for the most part, things were amazing. Falling in love with Jessie was easy and she said the same with you, but still there were moments, like this one, where you really felt like you didn’t fit in.

The girls were splitting themselves into teams and Janine waved you over.

“Come on. It’s just for fun!”

You gave her a wave of thanks and shooed her off, and she eventually relented. Yeah - like you were going to go out there and end up keeled over after 5 minutes of half-ass running while they sprinted circles around you. Worst part being that would’ve been them legitimately going easy on you.

“Here, split this with me.”

Your stomach fell further. Jessie. Your sweet Jessie. Who would never abandon you or make you feel left out.

“Go on, Jess,” you told her gently as you turned to face her, seeing her holding up a drink and two cups. You mustered up a smile and nodded to the field. “I’m okay, really.”

“I play football pretty much every day of my life. I’ll survive,” she laughed. “I’d much rather have a drink and conversation with you.”

“Jessie…,” you trailed off, some of the defeat bleeding into your voice.

“Come on, sit with me,” she encouraged as she set down the drinks and pulled together a couple of lawn chairs.

You offered her a tight smile and sat down. You should try to be graceful about it all.

“My bet’s on Morgan’s team,” you told her, trying to rid your voice of the heaviness you felt. “Loser buys dinner next.” Jessie gave you a dazzling smile.

“Deal.”

—————

“What’s on your mind? You’ve seemed a little off all afternoon.”

You sighed internally, disappointed in yourself for not better masking the funk you were in.

You nestled your head in a bit to Jessie’s shoulder as you laid in her bed together that evening.

“It’s nothing, really.” You answered and hoped Jessie would drop it. Her fingers idly grazed along the side of your arm, her head leaned against yours.

“Okay. But you’ve seemed a bit…I don’t know, yeah, just off, since the park,” she said. “Did I do something wrong?”

You lifted yourself up to look down at her with a concerned frown.

“Not at all. You’re amazing. Seriously,” you went on before laying back down and wrapping an arm across her torso. You exhaled slowly. “Maybe a little too amazing.”

This obviously caught her attention. You felt her shift and angle herself to try to catch your eye. You pulled her back down onto the bed and though she relented, she asked, “What are you talking about?”

You huffed, more-so in irritation with yourself than anything. Eventually, you sat up, though your legs remained entwined with hers. You distractedly played with the hem of your pyjama shirt.

“I-” You faltered and rolled your eyes. She sat up with you and grasped your hand gently. “I guess I’m just feeling a bit self-conscious.” You looked to her and she watched you quietly, giving you space to speak.

“I mean, I obviously knew going into this that you’re a title-winning, medal-winning, all-star athlete and I’m clearly not, but,” you paused, taking a breath to swallow your doubts and forge on, “I guess I just felt very out of place today.” You watched as a subtle frown formed on her face.

“In what sense?” She asked. “The team loves you.”

“I know,” you relented, “but don’t you ever feel a bit embarrassed that I’m the only one who's not an athlete? I'm, I don't know, average? You had to skip out on the game because of me. And if we ever do physical activities as I group I can’t keep up. And I can’t relate when you’re all talking about training and diets and all of that. I just don’t live in your world. I don’t want you to make accommodations for me or to hinder you in any way. I'm sure everyone expected you to date another athlete. Not even necessarily a football player, but anyone in that world.”

“Baby.” To your surprise Jessie was nearly smiling. “That’s what this is about? I’m so sorry that you’re feeling that way. Have you felt like this before?”

You looked away and shrugged. “Now and then. I try not to let myself get caught up in it.”

“Babe. I wish you would’ve told me,” she said, somewhat chiding but with evident affection. “But I’m glad you told me now. Hey, look at me,” she instructed gently as she grabbed your other hand, now holding both. She went on once you reluctantly met her gaze.

“I don’t need you to be an athlete. In fact, one of the things that drew me to you was how you aren’t one. I don’t care if you can run 2 minutes or 120. What I care about is that I feel so connected to you, how we can talk for hours, how we laugh together, how we support each other. And I’m sorry that I’ve left you feeling like you fall short in some way when it’s just the opposite.”

You gave her a small look and she lifted a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m surrounded by football players and sports people all day every day. If that was something I was looking for, I’d say I’d have my pick. But that’s not important to me. And even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, there is life after football for me. Above everything I just need you to know that I love you and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Thank you. That means so much. I’m sorry I got in my head,” you told her. She kissed your crown.

“Please tell me anytime you’re feeling a little down or insecure. I’m here for you. And I’m happy to reassure you any time you need.”

“Even if I don’t have a 6-pack,” you joked.

“Mm, come on, baby. You know how irresistible I find you,” she said, tone now changing as her hand snuck under the back of your top and her fingers traced along the band of your shorts.

You hummed into her neck as a small shiver went up your spine. Your hips shifted restlessly as a sensation began to stir between your legs.

Jessie moved slightly, causing you to sit up with a pouting look. She smiled at you and leaned in to capture your lips before grasping your hips and shifting you both so she was sitting with her back against the headboard and you were leaned back against her torso, nestled between her legs. She gently brushed your hair to the side and began laying soft, tender kisses along your neck. A small moan worked its way up your throat.

"You're so beautiful." Jessie spoke softly as she continued to lay teasing kisses. "And I want you all the time."

One of Jessie's hands reached up your shirt and cupped one of your breasts, which she began to slowly knead. You let your head fall back against her shoulder, inadvertently opening your neck further up for her, which she took advantage of, now pulling the soft skin gently between her teeth and grazing her tongue along it.

"Jessie," her name already needy on your lips.

"Yes, my love?" She asked rhetorically as she brought her other hand up to rest on your stomach before inching down and sneaking beneath your shorts and the band of your underwear. You rolled your head back further against her in anticipation and you reached down, splaying your fingers out against her thighs and gently digging your nails into the firm muscles you found there. She instinctively rolled her hips up against you and groaned into your neck.

"Baby. You have no idea what you do to me. You get me so wet with just a touch," she whispered against you, goosebumps forming on your skin in response.

"Please don't tease me," you pleaded, hips helplessly thrusting up against the hand that lay achingly close to your clit, but refusing to go over the edge and make contact. You brought your hand up to cup the back of her neck before running your fingers through her hair.

She chuckled against your neck, breath warm and tickling, before she reached further down. Her fingers gently parted your lips, tracing down and you inhaled sharply with a hissing sound.

"I love the way you feel in my arms," Jessie said as she began to kiss the shell of your ear. A shuddering breath escaped you and you rocked your hips against her fingers, looking for more contact. "And I love the way you move for me."

You released a moan as she ground her hips against you and her fingers found your clit, two fingers settling on it and gently, but firmly circling.

"Oh God," you breathed. You could feel your arousal growing and starting to pool at your entrance as she continued to work your clit and trailed her tongue slowly along your earlobe. You began to claw at the back of her head and she groaned low in her throat.

"I couldn't want anyone more," she told you, now switching her hand to your other breast and pulling you tighter against her. Her other hand and fingers remained steady on your clit, dipping down between your folds now and then and prolonging your pleasure. Soft, wet sounds now came from between your legs with each motion of her fingers.

Soon, your hips were moving in time with hers as her breathing began to grow heavier in your ear and only turning you on more. Her fingers continued to attentively explore your slick lips and always returning to your sensitive bud, each time causing you to melt further into her arms and she embraced you without fail.

Your head was turned in towards hers now and you were tugging at her hair as your peak approached. Your hips began to stutter against her fingers, jaw slack and eyes closed.

Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers, your eyes reluctantly opening at the unexpected loss. You tilted your head back to look at her and you saw her eyes trained steadfast on you.

"I want to see you," she said, her voice thick and needy as she began to maneuver you both. She turned you around and kissed your neck hungrily as she began to peel off your clothes. "God, you look amazing," she breathed in admiration as her eyes devoured you.

She laid back on the bed and pulled you on top of her so you were straddling her waist. Her hand was cupping your heat, fingers languidly massaging you as you settled in and looked down at her.

You leaned down, bracing your hands on her chest as you kissed her deeply. The kiss was interrupted, your mouth falling agape as she sunk two fingers inside of you, her thumb now nestled on your clit.

You let out a high moan, tossing your head back and pushing your hips back against her hand.

"Fuck, baby. You're so wet," she said as her thumb began to circle your clit again.

"How can I not be?" You managed to say, pulling a small smirk out of her. She rushed up to meet you, kissing you deeply and wrapping her free arm around your waist before pulling you back down with her onto the bed.

You kissed each other hot and heavy, contact only breaking when high moans fell from your lips as Jessie held you close and steadily pushed in and out of you.

"I'll never get over how good you feel around me," she whispered into your kiss as you rocked against her, your arousal pooling in her palm. "You're perfect for me."

Her strokes were deep and measured, each sending waves of pleasure through you. Between that, passionate kisses and her words of adoration, it felt like she was engulfing you in the most amazing way possible. It wasn't long before you drew a deep, sharp breath and you began to spasm around her thick, generous fingers.

"Oh fuck," you breathed, clutching yourself to her, "Jessie. Oh my god."

"I love you," she responded as she held you tightly through your orgasm. She kissed your face as your body shuddered.

Several moments passed and you eventually collapsed on top of her. She held herself inside of you and slowly played with your hair, laying lingering kisses along your temple as you caught your breath.

You lay in each others arms, neither of you feeling the need to speak. You continued to rest your head against her shoulder and she relished the feeling of your body on top of hers.

Eventually, she spoke, her voice soft to not disturb the mood too much.

"Can I get you some water?"

You shook your head. "No. Stay with me." She nodded against you and gave you a light squeeze.

"Always."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt

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watermelonlovershigh · 2 days

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i seen a trend online where the girl pretends to have a tampon stuck in her and asks her boyfriend if he's get it out. do you think you could write something like that with harry in it?

-🌼

TikTok Prank on Harry /blurb/

AN: i think that trend is very telling on what kind of partner these women have lol. love that trend but some of them i feel are staged. anyways i hope you enjoyed this and make sure to leave your feedback.

This story contains: mentions of a stuck tampon, mentions of blood, fluff, inuidos of sex at the end

{ husband!harry - softrry - no kids - current harry era }

word count: 662

You decide to do the viral tiktok trend on Harry where you tell him you got your tampon stuck and need his help removing it to see his reaction.

"Harry," you call from the bathroom, "can you come here for a second?" You'd seen this trend on TikTok where these women were pranking their boyfriends or husbands into thinking they got a tampon stuck inside of them to see if their partner would help them retrieve it or not. So of course you had to try this prank out on your husband.

A minute later the bathroom door creaks open and Harry asks, "Yeah?" once he steps fully inside. His view is of you wrapped in a towel, sitting on the closed toilet seat because you were about to take a shower. He thinks you look beautiful right now, but you'd be even more beautiful without that white fluffy towel you have wrapped around your torso.

Looking up innocently at your sweet, sweet husband, you fib, "So um, I kinda have a problem. You see, before my shower I was gonna remove my old tampon but I can't find it."

Harry looks at you with a confused expression. "What'd you mean you can't find it?"

Dragging the lie on, you continue, "The string, Harry. I went to pull it out but the string is gone. It must have went up too far inside me or something."

Now looking concerned, Harry starts, "So...." He's still slightly confused as to what you're needing him to do about your situation.

Huffing out of fake annoyance, you finally ask, "Can you help me? Like see if you can pull it out?" You're not gonna lie, you are kind of scared to know his reaction. He could be one of the sweet and generous partners you see in those videos where he's fully up for helping. Or he could be one of those partners who is disgusted by the idea of helping with that problem.

Without second thoughts, Harry steps closer to you and says, "Oh yeah, of course. Just gonna need you to tell me how far I need to reach my fingers up there." Okay, its confirmed. You did marry the perfect man. He begins to kneel in front of you and pulls his right sleeve up because he really thinks he's needing to help fish out your bloody tampon.

"Baby, baby, baby." you repeat over and over again, looking down with love in your eyes. You've got to stop the lie before it goes too far.

"What? M'gonna help you but you're gonna need to drop the towel and spread your legs." Though it sounds dirty out of context, you know Harry meant that with pure and innocent intent.

You reach forward and place your hands on his shoulders. "Baby, I was kidding. It was a prank. I don't actually have a tampon stuck inside me. I just wanted to tell you that to see if you'd actually help me if I really did have one stuck or not."

Relief washes over Harry's features because though he'd help you in a flash, he also wasn't excited about having to pull out your lost, bloody tampon. "Well of course I would've helped, love. How else would you've gotten it out, besides a trip to the doctors. I'd do anything for you."

You lean over and press a kiss to his lips which accidently makes your towel fall off your body. Harry grabs your hips to stabilize his squatting position and once the kiss turns into something more heated, you pull away and request, "Come get in the shower with me. I'm not actually on my period either."

Without much thinking, Harry quickly stands up and starts to shed his clothes off. He's never gonna pass up the offer of showering with his wife. "My love, I would have gotten in the shower with you even if you were on your period, you know." And when he's fully naked, you stand up from the toilet seat and walk hand in hand into the walk-in shower where your heated kisses continue and much, much more begins.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

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My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #husband!harry #husbandrry #soft!harry #softrry #harry x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #harry styles tiktok prank #tiktok prank #harry styles blurb #blurb

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formula1blog · 2 days

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Crazy Cat Lady

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You got home to find out that your boyfriend has got a new friend.

wc: 551

It was late afternoon when you finally walked into the building. It was one of those days where you had way too much planned, and all you wanted to do now was take a warm bath and go to sleep.

You open up the door of your shared apartment and put down your bags. You walk into the living room and see Max laying on the couch. To your surprise, you see that your boyfriend is holding a small kitten that you haven't seen before.

"Love, who is that?" you walk up to him and place a kiss on his head.

Max looks up at the sound of your voice, and a smile forms on his face. "She doesn't have a name yet. I wanted to wait until you got here." He carefully stands up and extends his arm to hand the cat to you.

You accept the cat and give her a pat on the head. "She is cute." It is a Bengal cat, just like the other two cats that were walking around in your apartment most of the time. Max loves this type of cat, and you can't blame him. The fur of the kitten resembles a pattern of a jaguar. Her eyes are kind of large in a beautiful green and gold color. She is a piece of art.

“Just like you,” Max says. You blush at the compliment and give the kitten back to your boyfriend. "Why did you buy her? Aren't two cats enough?" You mention Jimmy and Sassy, who were both sleeping in the corner of the room.

Max looks around the room. "You can never have enough cats. I love to have hundreds of them, but you also have to take care of them all, so that isn't the best option. I remember you saying you would like one more." "That was ages ago. I didn't think you would actually buy one."

Max pats his hand on the couch, signaling you to sit next to him. "I would buy anything you want. A third cat is a great addition to our little family. I should have gotten one sooner."

"You are going to turn into a crazy cat lady if you buy any more." You chuckle.

"Well, I hope that is your type because when I retire, there are going to be more of these little angels." Max gives the kitten a pat over his head. You laugh at his comment. In your head, you pictured Max laying on the floor surrounded by ten cats. He is wearing a crazy sweater, just like those ladies. You wouldn't really mind it. You couldn't help but smile at your boyfriend. He looks so happy with his cats, and you were definitely going to get him one more over a couple of weeks, maybe as a present for winning a race.

"We still have to decide on a name for this sweetheart," you said as you lay your head on Max's shoulder. "I was thinking about naming her Nala, you know, after the Lion King. She is a badass, and I am sure this little angel will be too."

"That is a great name, love."

And so you spend your evening laying on the couch with your boyfriend and three children. You would trade this over everything else in this world.

#f1 #formula 1 #formule1 #max verstappen #maxverstappen1 #maxverstappen 33 #cat dad max #cats #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max and his cats #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you

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yrluvjane · 3 days

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hi gorgeous i hope you’re having a wonderful day!!

Can i please get a james x fem reader where it’s her birthday and she’s feeling down and like she’s getting old ( i turned 22 today and i wanna SCREAM) and ofc james is having non of that and just lots of hurt/comfort/fluff please

Happy Belated Birthday, hun! (I'm turning 21 in a few months) And I relate to this so much as someone who was forced to uphold too much expectations at a very young age, I had this problem ever since I was sixteen and I think about in a really cursed way - always ends up with me crying. Don't forget to enjoy it! You shouldn't be feeling down about it, because 22 is still very young! I'm sure James would tell you this too lol :)

You're feeling sorry for yourself, a little blue, your mind filled with thoughts of aging and loss. It's your birthday and you can't help but feel like time is slipping away from you. You've missed out on so much, and you don't know what the future has for you. You sigh, letting your head fall back against the wall. "I'm getting old," you mutter to yourself. "What am I even doing with my life?"

James walks into the large room, his eyes scanning the crowd for you. He spots you in the corner, near the snack table, looking a little downcast in the midst of all the joy and laughter. He makes his way over to where you're seated, a small box in his hand.

As he approaches, you look up to see James, looking as handsome as always, carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Happy birthday, love of my life," he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You smile weakly, feeling a warm ache in your chest at the sight of him. "Thanks, James. That means a lot." Even then he frowns, noticing the sadness in your eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

At your silence, he leans closer, pulling you into the hall, away from prying eyes and having you sit at a small bench. "You know you can tell me anything." his fingers push back your hair, tucking the small strands behind your ear.

You shake your head, looking up at him with a small frown on your face. "It's just…I thought I'd be excited for my birthday, but I feel like I'm already too old to be having fun like this."

James takes a seat next to you, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. "Nonsense. You're never too old to enjoy the things that make you happy," he says, his voice dripping with kindness. "Plus, isn't today all about celebration? You should be enjoying yourself."

You sigh, feeling slightly comforted by James' words. "I know. It's just…I miss the simpler days, you know? Back when we were students, and life wasn't so complicated."

James nods, understanding your sentiment. "I get it," he says, his eyes soft and filled with so much love and understanding it has you speechless. "But those days are gone, and we have to make the best of what we have now. If you live too much in the past, you'll won't have the time to live in the present. Here."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, handing it to you with a small smile. "Happy birthday, Love. I hope this makes your day a little brighter."

You open the box, a small smile flickering across your face as you pull out a beautiful, delicate gold necklace with a disc pendant . "James, it's…It's perfect," you say, your voice cracking slightly.

"Turn it over."

Your initials and James' are engraved on it, along with a date. James looks up at you curiously, his head on your shoulder.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes with a mix of tenderness and playfulness. "So, can you guess when this was?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You think for a moment, trying to decipher the date. Suddenly, it clicks. You smile, the answer coming to you immediately. "Our first Christmas, our first kiss." you say, your voice full of joy. James chuckles, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "That's right, Love," he says, his voice full of affection. "I wanted to give you something special to remember our special day by."

You place a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the softness of his hair beneath your palm. "I love you," you say, your voice full of feeling. You lean in and give James a kiss.

He kisses you again, his lips soft and tender against yours. "I love you too," he replies, his voice full of affection. When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling with happiness as he notices the lift in your mood. "Now, let's forget about the past and focus on the present, shall we? Let's celebrate your birthday together, just the two of us."

You smile and lean into James' comforting embrace. "I'd like that," you say, your voice quivering slightly. "Very much."

#marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james fleamont potter

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scribbledghost · 21 hours

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Oh gosh, angsty idea I just need to ask... how do you Simon reacts to civilian!reader being captured?? And how do you think Simon reacts when reuniting with reader after rescuing them (b/c my brain won't accept any other ending than Simon and reader reuniting.) BTW, my brain didn't really have a particular version of Simon in mind while writing this... so you can picture fem!Simon, neighbor!Simon, etc. while responding :))))

It's been a minute since we've checked in on Neighbor!Simon, so let's do that, hm?

His first call is to Price when he finds your front door ajar and your house in disarray. He knows calling the cops would be next to useless, especially since it doesn't take a genius to piece together the kidnappers' motive - to get under Simon's skin, and lead him to them.

It takes all his resources to find you, including Price and Laswell pulling strings on his behalf. The 141 take on your rescue mission personally, though they're very much alone here. There is no backup, the military wasn't going to expend such resources rescuing a single average civilian.

Simon turns into a machine. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He only focuses on finding you and using whatever scraps of breadcrumbs he can in order to do so. He gets testy with the team. Any bit of lightheartedness from Soap or Gaz quickly gets crushed under Simon's heel. No time for jokes, not when you're out there somewhere, being put through god knows what.

His mind often wanders to Mexico. To Roba. Simon Riley is not a praying man, but he bends his own rule just this once. Not only to beg for your safe return, but to also plead that wherever you are (and whoever has you) is kinder to you than Roba was to him.

When they track you down, Simon is quick to start barking orders. Normally, Price would put him in his place, but he allows Simon to take the lead on this one. Simon has come too far to not be the one that rescues you. He makes quick work of whatever misguided group thought they could stand up to him; he leaves behind a trail of bodies with no remorse, and personally carries you out of the building and to a waiting helo.

Truthfully, I see him being completely devastated by guilt. Whoever took you did it to get back at him, and they found you by finding him. In his mind, it's the same scenario with his family all over again - someone he loves got hurt, and though he wasn't directly to blame, he can't deny that you would have been safe if he hadn't come into your life.

You wake up in a hospital bed some time later to see Simon sitting at your bedside, leg bouncing and arms crossed as he stares into space.

He all but freezes when you softly call for him, head snapping to you as he launches towards you. At first, he doesn't speak. The only thing he says is a soft "I'm so sorry" as he gently touches your cheek. He's a steady presence in the following days, making sure you're well taken care of, helping you when you start to get up and moving again.

Honestly, I think he might wrestle with himself a little bit here. Part of him wants to vanish; to leave you, move away, and break all ties with you in an effort to keep you safe. Sure, he'd spend the rest of his life thinking of you and yearning to have you back, but at least without any connection to him, you'd be free of the risk of this happening again.

And part of him wants the opposite. He wants you close, wants to keep an eye on you, wants to never leave your side. The risk would still be there, but he knows he'd be able to protect you better and he knows he'd be better-equipped to find you if anything were to happen.

In the end, he settles for the latter. And maybe he starts talking about condensing your two homes into one.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles #neighbor simon

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kangnina · 3 days

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MDNI - Naïve!Jungwon 15 - … Fuck Kyle…

Everything was finally falling perfectly into place. Jungwon adjusted to balancing work and school. You spent almost every second together outside of that. After he returned from an engineering conference, he surprised you with a private picnic date at the foot of the mountains.

“Let’s get married,” he suddenly says, as the two of you lay on a blanket, watching the clouds roll by.

“Jungwonie, you know I love you but… don’t you think that’s a bit fast? We’ve only been dating a few months. What’s the rush? I’m not going anywhere,” you say, gently squeezing his hand. He seems to be thinking about his next words very carefully. “Communication goes both ways,” you say, repeating his little mantra back to him.

“You’re right, baby. It’s just that I love you so much. How about a long engagement then?” You sit up, looking at him. Now it’s your turn to hesitate. He adjusts his glasses, his big brown eyes study your face.

“Is this about Kyle?” you ask quietly.

“What about Kyle?” he suddenly snaps. You still hadn’t told Jungwon about the stalking. But you immediately regret even saying his name. It’s been weeks since you’ve actually seen Kyle. He was everywhere and then suddenly he was nowhere. It was like he never existed. Why did you have to bring him up now?

“I mean… this is not another jealousy thing, is it? ” you say, staring down at your hand intertwined with his hand.

“Fuck Kyle. Never say his name to me ever again. He no longer exists. Okay?! In my world, it’s just you and me. I love you so much. I’d do anything for you, baby,” You’re a little taken aback by his sudden intensity. But it also makes you feel special. Like you’re the only woman on the planet. You’ve never been loved like this and you’ve never loved someone so much. You can't help but grin with tears in your eyes. Jungwon smiles, pulling you down on top of him. He kisses you. “So… is that a yes?” he asks, tilting his head cutely.

“Yes, Mr. dramatic,” you say, straddling his lap and kissing him. His hands run up your thighs and under your skirt, squeezing your ass. You moan, your tongue rolling around his mouth as you gently grind against his growing bulge.

“Do not tease me, Mrs. Yang Jungwon,” he whispers, smacking your ass.

“Fuck! Those words really do sound amazing.” You say, moaning against his lips. Jungwon smiles. Dimples deep. It makes your heart pound and your pussy clench. He rolls you over onto your back and kisses you slowly.

“Gonna make you squirt, pretty girl,” His words make you whimper with anticipation. Jungwon sits up and places his glasses on your face. “Hold these for me, please.” You giggle. How does he pull off sexy and cute at the same time? A deadly combo. He slides down the blanket onto his stomach, coming to his elbows in front of your eager pussy. Jungwon wraps his arms around your thighs and licks a long stripe from your ass to your clit making your hands fly to his hair as you arch your back. He chuckles. "Hold on tight, Noona," he says, dipping his tongue in and out of your pussy.

Naïve!Jungwon 16

-------------------

@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx @wildflowermooon @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @emikotakayami @mydearestwonnie @woniesprincess04

@snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark

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eyesfullofsttars · 1 day

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☆ can we always be this close forever and ever?

synopsis: since abby and ellie moved in together, abs has been having trouble sleeping next to her girlfriend. so, one night she decides to stay awake to figure out the problem...

notes: hey!!! this is so silly and short, i'm not completely convinced, but i hope you like it even though it's simple

warnings: none, i think... just fluff!!!

The experience Abby initially endured when sharing a bed with Ellie was challenging. Though it may sound harsh, it was an unexpected issue at the start of their relationship.

At first, Abby thought the problem lay in the bed. She would wake up each morning with unusual back pain, but she dismissed the idea after flipping the mattress three times without seeing any improvement. She even bought a new mattress, but the pain persisted.

When the pain didn't subside, another issue arose: Abby often woke up in the middle of the night without a clear reason, finding Ellie sleeping far from her, mumbling nonsense and seemingly possessed.

Before calling an exorcist to alert them that her girlfriend was possessed by a night demon, Abby decided to talk to Ellie. She looked puzzled and denied everything, stating that she didn't talk, move, or do anything unusual while sleeping.

For a few days, Abby thought she might be the problem. However, her pride rejected that notion, so she decided to stay awake one night to observe Ellie while she slept, looking for any irregularities.

The evening started with Abby wishing her girlfriend goodnight, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return as Ellie nestled close, resting her head on Abby's chest.

Less than thirty minutes passed before Ellie fell into a deep sleep and then disrupted her peaceful slumber. Her relaxed expression turned into a furrowed brow, and she began tossing and pushing Abby away while continuously mumbling.

With some fear of being kicked by Ellie (which explained her pains), Abby decided to move away, sitting up in bed and giving her space. Ellie rested at the other end of the bed, unable to stop murmuring in her sleep.

Abs remained silent, focused on Ellie’s facial expressions, which showed neither dreamy relaxation nor peace but rather fear and distress. Abby quickly realized her girlfriend was having a nightmare and didn’t hesitate to interrupt.

"Babe," Abby whispered softly, carefully approaching Ellie and gently shaking her shoulder. "You're having a nightmare, Els. Wake up..."

Just a few gentle movements on her shoulder were enough for Ellie to wake up, her green eyes wide with fear. She sat up quickly, placing her hand over her chest as if scared her heart might escape.

"Fuck." That was the only thing that came from Ellie's lips as she tried to regulate her breathing while Abby gently stroked her back up and down. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no," Abby replied immediately, slowly shaking her head to assure Ellie that everything was fine. "Do you feel better? It must have been a terrible nightmare."

"No, not really. I've had the same nightmares since I was a child," Ellie murmured, as if being so disturbed during sleep was her normal reality instead of a peaceful dream.

"Would you like to talk about it? Your nightmares..." Abby proposed, seeking a possible solution to ease Ellie's mind. "Maybe that would help you rest better."

"No fucking way," Ellie responded quickly, firmly shaking her head and leaving no room for further suggestions. "I know they're not real, but I can't escape them."

"What can I do to help you? You don't want to discuss this with me, so..." Abby said, trying to assist her girlfriend in solving her sleep problems, even if Ellie didn't want to share her nightmares with her.

"I don't know, wake me up?" Ellie offered that solution with a frown, unsure of how to handle her nightmares. "Hold me close so I don't move around? Can you do that with your strong arms?"

Abby let out a small laugh at Ellie's comment, who smiled lightly at hearing her girlfriend's chuckle.

"Maybe if I hold you, you'll feel safer and the nightmares will seem less real," Abby replied, considering Ellie's suggestion.

"Just hold me if you see me getting worked up, and if it's too much, wake me up," Ellie agreed, moving a bit closer to Abby in bed.

"Your solution is just an excuse to sleep curled up next to me, Williams," Abby quipped playfully, rolling her eyes and taking advantage of the new closeness to kiss Ellie's cheek. "You really are obsessed with me, aren't you?"

"Oh no, you've discovered my terrible secret," Ellie responded, following Abby's teasing with an exaggerated sigh. "I've been faking nightmares to be the clingiest girlfriend. Now you can't escape."

"What a shame you have to resort to this for some affection," Abby joked without hesitation. "Aren't you embarrassed to take advantage of my kindness?"

Suddenly, the sweet cheek kisses Abby gave Ellie became less innocent as she trailed down to her jaw and neck.

"You can't deny my plan worked," Ellie said, shrugging and giggling at Abby's comment and the tingling sensations from the neck kisses.

It could be said with certainty that, after weeks of discomfort, sharing a bed with Ellie finally became a dream for Abby.

In the end, before going to sleep, after wishing each other goodnight and saying "I love you," Ellie would snuggle into Abby's chest, while Abs wrapped her arm around her, pulling her closer.

They simply lay down each night under the dinosaur-themed sheets of the bed, embracing each other, regardless of the weather, seeking comfort in each other's arms and sleeping soundly with dreams instead of nightmares.

And perhaps one night, Abby will wake her, and in the darkness, Ellie might begin to whisper her nightmares without any fear of sharing those terrible dreams about her past that continue to haunt her. By becoming vulnerable in front of Abby, who devotedly seeks nothing more than to comfort and and help ease her nightmares.

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waywardxwords · 22 hours

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Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]

If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight.

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door.

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought.

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room.

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze.

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.”

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.”

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door.

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion.

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?”

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway.

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester.

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.”

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car. As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart.

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly.

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car.

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back.

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours.

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently.

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded.

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag.

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway.

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile.

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport.

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash.

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas.

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes.

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now.

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it.

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped.

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked.

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control.

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you.

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully.

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness.

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued.

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence.

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off.

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften.

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you.

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word.

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid.

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road.

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat.

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked.

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction.

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors.

“You just get some rest,” he said gently.

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean.

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both.

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings.

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.”

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly.

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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murdrdocs · 1 day

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sweet as a grape

description. ART DONALDSON lost a match, leading him to sulking at the hotel bar. when you slide up next to him he starts to feel like he won.

includes. SMUT MDNI 18+, submissive art, no challengers spoilers, fem!reader, sex w a stranger, drinking (but no drunk sex), masochism, dry humping, virgin coded/inexperienced art, choking, gagging (self inflicted), brief rimming, slight overstimulation, lots of allusions to masturbation, allusions to edging, art is a fucking freak

wc. 3.6k+

a/n: this is all based on assumption since challengers has yet to be released at time of posting. artwork is nighthawks by edward hopper. title from too sweet by hozier. some plot inspiration taken from @too-deviant's ray bans

Art Donaldson knows he's good at tennis. He knows he's great, and he knows that with greatness comes attention. Reporters always looking to get an exclusive from him, coaches always looking to take credit for the gained speed in his serve, brand, and companies looking to put his face on something, and people throwing themselves at him, begging for even a glance so they would have a story to tell their friends.

He knows this. But it still comes as a shock whenever people prettier than he thinks he deserves turn their attention to him. It's still a shock when you, a being with far too much beauty and grace, slides up next to him.

He smells you before he sees you. A sweet scent wafted to his nose, hitting him against the face with a pleasant slap. Then he senses you, the aura that radiates off of your body. Warm and comforting, even with the blistering heat from out that is attempting to permeate the hotel bar. He doesn't gather the courage to look at you until you speak. And your voice, God there's something about it. Something that makes Art's muscles loosen for the first time in hours, as the smooth lilt of your tone is a nice change of pace from the grunts on the court and the grating ridicule from the reporters asking him about the match, all disappointed faces reminding him that he lost.

But sitting here, on a barstool next to you, Art begins to feel like he won.

"I'll have what he's having," you tell the bartender with absolute confidence. You're leaning on the counter just a bit in an attempt to make your voice clearer, your ass perked up in the air enough to grab Art’s attention. He doesn't mean to look, really, but as he brings his glass to his lips he can't help how his eyes cut to the side briefly.

Besides, the skirt of your dress is long enough to cover your backside.

Art shakes his head. "You don't want what I’m having." He shouldn't be having anything right now. He might have lost his match, but this isn't the end. The alcohol will only slow his recovery, he knows this, but his half-assed reasoning of needing to drown his sorrows took over his mind, settling into his frontal lobe and steering his choices.

The bartender is already sliding a replica of Art's drink your way. You raise it and Art clinks his glass with yours. Then he watches you taste it. It's strong, straight liquor placed on ice which barely does anything to make it smoother, but you take it like a champ. You only take a sip, though, your eyes squeezed shut as it goes down before you place the glass back onto the counter and wave the bartender over again.

You flick your tongue out to catch a drip of liquor that missed your mouth. It’s so pathetic how just that one movement makes Art shift in his seat.

This time, you order something sweeter. Something more your style Art figures. Art doesn't think before he orders one for himself, too, and follows up the order by telling the bartender to place these drinks and any that will follow on his tab.

It doesn't take long before he confirms that you know who he is. But you're subtle about it. Your recognition comes in your glances. The way you narrow your eyes. The way you smile and laugh at his poorly made jokes. The way you ask him how he's doing—your tone a little firmer, as if you'd been in the stands today watching the close match that ultimately led to a loss. And it's then that Art recognizes you, too.

He'd seen you briefly, just one glance before he was turning back to focus on the match. Your eyes had been covered by a pair of sunglasses then, but at the end of the match when everyone else was cheering for the winner, Art saw you cheering for him. Stood at the entrance to the locker rooms, your stacked bracelets glinting in the sunlight as you clapped. The sound of his blood rushing to his ears had been deafening then, the red in your eyes distorted every image. At the time, he believed that not one clap was in his favor. But yours surely was.

He can't tell if your intentions are really any different than anyone else who has tried to sleep with him, but he doesn't care. Because he just wants you so bad.

And for once in his life, he lets himself have what he wants. He accepts that he's a desired person, even on his off day, and he takes you, possibly the most desirable person he'd ever laid eyes on, upstairs to his room, and lets you have your way with him.

He lets himself show a side he’s never shown to anyone else before. A side that is only seen when he’s tugging his cock all alone, his mind helpfully conjuring up images as he sped up the flick of his wrist, only to slow his motions down to a stop on his own accord. And he would continue the delicious torture, for as long as his mind and body could conjure, especially if he lost a match.

This is a more compliant side. Less of a persona he’s put on for the media, and more of a man who just wants to please and be pleased.

Tonight, with you laying back on his bed and waiting for him, he considers his options. He doesn’t know if he should continue his usual routine of self-inflicted torment. Or if he should give into you completely and lose himself amongst the nectar that’s gathered between your thighs. When he sees the imprint of your arousal, he decides that he’ll go along with whatever you want from him.

It doesn’t take much for him to live up to his promise.

You’re lying on your side, your head resting in your hand as you smile up at him lazily. You’d both had your last drink a while ago, and with the way they were spaced out Art doesn’t think you’re drunk. He’s not drunk, but he still feels elated. He feels like a teenage boy when you beckon him over and he complies willingly, crawling towards you until he’s sitting on his haunches.

You lay on your back, staring up at him, blinking up at him. And Art waits. He waits and waits until he realizes you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

He bends down and presses his lips to yours. The shape of the kiss is awkward since Art’s position forces your lips to align together at a perpendicular angle. But you don’t mind it. You let the initial press linger for a second before you place one of your hands onto his side and pull him towards you. Art interprets your pull as wanting him to land atop you and he does.

The bed is large enough that only his feet hang off when he straddles you, placing only the weight of his bottom half over you and holding his top half up with a hand pressed into the mattress.

His other hand settles on the thin strap of your dress. The material hangs off of the angular end of your shoulder, just close enough to fall off. Art doesn’t know if he initially intended to pull it down or push it back up. But you look up at him, your eyebrows slightly raised. It’s a look he knows well. He’s seen it on many opponents who doubted him.

You’re challenging him.

He pulls the strap down and that’s all it takes for you to take his face in both of your hands and pull his lips to yours. You have some unexpected strength in you. Your tug throws Art off of his balance until his chest collides with yours. You’re not deterred at all, your leg hiking up over Art’s hip as you press your foot into his lower back.

Your dress must have slipped up somewhere along the way because Art can feel the warmth of your center pressing against his pants. He does it subconsciously, not even realizing what he’s doing until you reciprocate the movement, but he’s grinding into you with long and languid swipes of his boner into your arousal.

There comes a point where the two of you need to pull your lips away from the other. But Art stubbornly doesn’t want to. His lungs ache for a breath. His head screams at him, telling him that kissing you can’t be more important than breathing. But for a moment there, just a single moment, Art believes that it is.

When you pull away first, Art tries not to take it personally.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask him through your breaths. Your question takes Art by surprise. Your words are so blunt. A little crude. But they stiffen the pressure in his trousers. He likes how assertive you are. It has his head spinning and somehow he manages to hide how desperate he is in his reply.

“Only if you ride me.”

Not much can be hidden whenever you’re on top of him.

You’re staring down at him, likely with a view not too dissimilar from Birdseye. Art knows that like this, he’s probably spread out before you like he’s on an examination table. From the heavens, you’re able to notice every single thing about him that you choose to.

The way his breath hitches when you sink on him. The way he’s a little lost behind the eyes, the two big blue windows unfocused enough to suggest how much pleasure he’s getting from this. He starts to feel a little insecure, but then you bring a graceful hand down and push his damp blond hair off of his forehead, providing the ventilation needed.

Gratefully, his eyes fall closed and his head tips back. You bring your hand down to cup his cheek and Art instinctively turns his head just enough to place a blind kiss into the center of your palm.

“Will you look at me, Art?”

You ask him so politely, your voice just as sweet as it was earlier in the night when he’d only been imagining something like this. He wishes you were a little firmer with him, but he still obeys, slowly peeling his eyes open.

He’s instantly grateful that he did. Because for just a brief second, he forgot just how divine the image above him was.

Your body is almost completely bare since the top half of your dress has been pulled down to reveal your tits. They shake with each movement. With each controlled way you sink down onto him. In the same way he’s in his element on the court, he figures that you’re in your element here. You look so natural like this, stripped by the wish to satisfy your most basic need. But you’re so good at this. He wonders if you’d had as much practice at this as he has with his craft. Not that it matters to him, especially since any previous practice you could have had would have only contributed to this time, making it as heavenly as it could possibly be. But Art thinks he wants to practice this, like this, with you more often.

The way your cunt takes him in is hidden by the skirt of your dress. With a hand more shaky than expected, Art lifts the hem and the sight he’s blessed with makes him dizzy. He has to take a controlled breath, look away, and then come back to it.

Your pussy is so pretty. He can’t see much from this angle, and he wishes he could see more, but he can both see and feel how wet you are. In a risky move, you’d allowed Art to forgo a condom and he sincerely hopes he won’t regret it later. The last thing he needs during the height of his career is a bastard with his eyes and a monthly check written to a one-night stand. But when he’s able to feel you intimately and see how your essence is shining his dick, he can’t regret anything.

Everything seems like it was meant to be at this moment. Even the damned neon ball that escaped his racket by just an inch that brought him to the bar this evening anyway.

“Here,” you mumble. Art doesn’t know exactly what you’re referencing until you knock his hand away and replace it with your own. You lift your dress over your head and throw it to the floor where it joins Art’s already discarded clothes. Now you’re both even in terms of nudity. But the fields are definitely still uneven.

You have complete control in this setting. Art doesn’t mind it one bit.

You reach your hands down and take Art’s grasp in yours, directing his rough palms up to your body. You place his touch on your waist, but getting the feeling that he’s allowed to touch more than that, he lifts his hands up and grazes his fingertips over your erect nipples.

Your reaction is appreciative so Art does the movement again. He’s amid his third swipe when he remembers something. The magic button one of his old hitting partners told him about one afternoon during unwanted locker room talk.

He sticks two fingers into his mouth, unable to help the way he stuffs them a little too far back. He only stops when he gags just once, and then he pulls the digits out, satisfied by how slick they are, and brings them between your thighs.

It takes a moment for him to find it. He curses under his breath when he misses the first time, and grunts when he misses it the second time, but the third time is the charm. He presses at first, attempting to see if he’d found it. And when your hips jerk, he begins to draw on his memory and starts circling your clit.

You moan, your head tipping back as you start to ride Art with more fervor. More passion is behind the way you move your hips. More determination is in the way your hands press into his torso to ground yourself. You have one hand below his navel, manicured nails scratching his happy trail while your other hand slides up higher and higher.

And just when Art thinks you’re going to reach your target, you stop. The base of your hand presses into the top of Art’s sternum while your fingers lay across his collarbones. You’re so close. Just a little …

“Higher. Please.”

You don’t say anything, you don’t give him a look, you just do as he says. You push your hand up higher until you find the other end of the magnet.

When your fingers wrap around his throat, Art groans from deep in his stomach. It comes from a place he’s only ever accessed during an intense game. Never during something like this. Briefly, he wonders if this could be considered a game. But if it is, it’s one he’s losing. He’s not even bothering to fight back. You’re dominating him and he likes it. Hell, he fucking adores it.

You’re the one in control here, so it’s only natural that Art asks for your permission to cum.

The need steadily approaches, pushing through his body, working its way through the maze until it finds the end which leads directly up into you.

“‘m close,” he warns. “Can I cum? Please? Will you make me cum?”

You nod fervently. Art sighs, he relaxes into the bed with a delusional belief that he’ll get to cum any moment now.

Your words clear things up for him. “Make me cum first, Art. Then I’ll return the favor. Deal?”

He doesn’t pout or complain. He just agrees. “Deal.”

He uses his free hand to grip your hip and speeds up his touch on your clit. His fingerpads slip down just a bit to gather more wetness, and then he brings his touch right back up and settles it right onto the part of your clit that protrudes the most.

The sight of you cumming is so beautiful. Just this one hit, this one time, is surely enough to make Art addicted. While he watches you cum, taking in the way your chest pushes your tits out and your head throws back, revealing the gorgeous line of your neck, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind if you had his kid. As long as it guaranteed that you would always be in his life.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to make his sex-hazed thought a reality as you pull off of him, ignoring the way your cunt is gripping him with resistance. You settle beside him, sitting with your legs tucked under you. Your hand comes to Art’s cock, and it only takes a few strokes before his hips are lifting and he’s cumming.

You press your lips to his while he releases, stroking him determinedly while you kiss him messily, lots of saliva and tongue swapping between the both of you. When your hand around his throat tightens just a bit, Art’s hips stutter, and his cock twitches in your hand. He can feel you grin against his lips.

“Let me clean you up?” You ask him with the prettiest smile. He’s dazed when he nods, not really knowing what he’d just agreed to. When you settle between his legs, Art almost backs out. He’s still sensitive, he knows it without you even touching him. But it’s rude to push a pretty girl away when she’s offering to use her mouth on him.

So he sits through it.

He fists the bed sheets and tries to swallow his groans whenever you lick the cum off of his torso. He accidentally whimpers when you wrap your lips around his tip. And he can’t hold off the deep moan that pushes out of him when you allow his cock to sink into your mouth.

This cavern is different than the last. A little rougher, but the constant pressure and warmth from your tongue is comforting. He was already softening whenever you first took him in your mouth, but his dick is allowed a single moment of rest. He hardens inside of your mouth, and when he’s ready, you start to suck him off.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he’s close. But he can’t really hold off when you use your hands to push his legs a little further apart, and you abandon his dick for a brief second to bring your tongue lower, pushing the muscle along his pink-clenched rim before you drift back up. Art’s gasp is pitiful. Even to his own ears, he sounds like something out of a porno, his voice wobbling as he moans, sounding like he’ll cry at any moment.

His back arches and he decides he needs more of you. He takes a bit more control, even though it happens accidentally. He presses a hand into the back of your head and rams his cock up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat more than once and triggering your gag reflex.

When he cums this time, it’s in your mouth, and you suck him clean again. He moans your name all the while, the syllables becoming more broken each time he repeats it. He thinks he’s praising you, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying. For a second there, he doesn’t even know where he is.

Then, when he comes down, he’s silent. He’s like a cat with the way he shudders. He’s absolutely spent, labored breathing reverberating throughout the otherwise silent hotel room. You slide up to his chest, laying your head in the center. Your hand has been taken off of his neck and delicately placed into his hair.

You play with the curls for a second before speaking.

“You okay?”

He nods, letting himself catch his breath a little more before he speaks.

“Yeah. More than okay. You?” He brings a hand to your back, pulling you closer to him. You’re staring up at him from his chest, and like this, you look innocent. Heavy eyes blinking up at him, your lips pulled into a smile.

You hum affirmatively. “Shower? Or bath?”

Art laughs a little when he says, “Bath. Definitely a bath.” He knows that his legs would be a little too shaky to withstand a shower, and as he follows you into the bathroom, his suspicions are confirmed. He’s satisfied to see you struggle a bit with stepping into the tub.

Sex with you was fucking amazing, and somehow, the ease with the two of you hasn’t diminished. You’re both sober, any alcohol that could have remained in your systems definitely been expelled by now, but you’re just as charming. And Art is just as relaxed around you.

He thinks that he could exist with you for a while.

When he awakes on his own the morning after, he thinks he was too wishful the night before. Maybe he’d been reading way too much into something that was solely a one-night stand. He sits at the edge of the bed, head hung and tail tucked, but then his mood improves just a bit when he sees your panties laid forgotten on the floor. Even when he throws them with the rest of his clothes from his suitcase, he doesn’t let his mood improve too much.

He has pissed, showered, and is standing over the sink to brush his teeth when he sees your note attached to the mirror.

had to leave. thought you had things to do. call me sometime. or come visit. room 1046, here until tomorrow. xx

The note is placed carefully with the rest of his belongings.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson challengers #challengers movie #mike faist #celeste writes misc

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eyesofshinigami · 3 days

Text

Proper Motivation

Rating: M

Tags: Established relationship, can be read as gender-swap or trans!Steve, spicy content

Written for the STWG prompt motivation:

"But I don't want to do my exercises. It hurts and it makes me hot and sweaty and not even in a fun way," Eddie whines, draping himself over the treadmill dramatically. "It sucks and I hate it."

This had been a near daily fight since Eddie had gotten out of the hospital. Despite the doctors insistence that the walking would help him regain the strength in his legs, Eddie was having none of it. He would whine and fuss and kick his feet like a toddler having a tantrum. Stevie is at her wit's end. She knew her boyfriend hated exercising but this was getting ridiculous.

"Baby, I know, but you need to do it so you can get your strength back. It's only for six weeks, and if you show improvement, you may not have to anymore," she tries, pitching her voice a little higher. It was like dealing with a child.

Which... maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe she was coming at this from the wrong angle. Time to switch tactics.

"Tell you want..." she purrs, which suddenly makes Eddie sit up straighter from where he was still lamenting on the treadmill. "For every hundred steps you do, I'll take off a piece of clothing. And once I'm naked, if you finish your allotted... I'll let you do whatever you want to me. How's that for motivation?"

"Anything?" Eddie asks eagerly. He gets to his feet and starts fiddling with the buttons on the treadmill.

"Anything we've done or already discussed."

Eddie's face goes a little pink. "Even the thing with your tongue?"

Stevie nods, delighted. "Even the thing with my tongue. Maybe I'll even ride you after, since you'll be so tired from being such a good boy."

Eddie gulps and she can hear the treadmill whir to life. He starts walking , shaky as he is, but now he's got a determined look on his face.

She can't not reward such good behavior. She pulls her t-shirt tight over her chest, her tits and the outline of her nipples practically visible through the thin material. It draws Eddie's attention down and she giggles when his eyes go wide watching her tits bounce. "Just a sneak peek," she teases.

Eddie keeps staring, mindlessly walking and following every single movement of her tits and hips.

She should have done this ages ago. "Keep it up, baby," she coos. Stevie thumbs at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up to reveal the tanned expanse of her stomach and the tiny little panties she's wearing, the one Eddie really likes to take off with his teeth. "Almost there."

Eddie moans, his steps faster, the tent forming in his sweats getting more and more visible.

Stevie just grins.

#les writes things #steddie #fem!steve #stwg daily prompt #fem steve harrington #fem steve

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forsworned · 2 days

Note

If it's not a bother, it's totally okay to ignore or deleted but do you think hesh gets jealous of if his wife is friendly with Logan and like platonically cuddles him or is it a hey they adore my brother as well and doesn't mind that I drop everything to go help him no matter how naked we are.~ local pocket dragon wonders rubbing their greedy lil paws paws.

Oooo thats a good question,

I think that Hesh is definitely not the sharing type at all. He gets jealous pretty easily and he really can't help it, but I think with Logan it's much different. Like that's his flesh and blood, you know?

But it would absolutely make his blood boil if he saw any kind of cuddling going on between his brother and his wife. He's watched all kinds of tv shows and films where the husband finds out that his wife was having an affair with his own brother. It makes him sick to his stomach, so instead of verbalizing that, hell just insert himself between you guys. Like if you're sitting on the couch next to each other, Hesh will simply parkour over the couch and sandwich himself between his brother and wife.

Logan, of course, notices but doesn't say anything. There's just a small smile on his face as he's sipping on his Natty.

But I definitely would not go as far as Hesh coming out the cut naked if Logan needed something, I think he'd lowkey be pissed if he was in the middle of laying some good pipe on his wife and Logan interrupted 😭😭😭😭

Like that is just mad inappropriate please. Because not only would that just annoy tf out of him, he's more worried about how it would make his wifey feel and he doesn't want to prioritize him above his wife especially if it's not urgent or life threatening

And he's not even the type to get all fussy about it either, they'll just both be sitting on the couch in the morning and Hesh is all quiet and Logan knows that he's pissed. And Hesh is like messing with his dog tags, trying to get the latch in and he's like, "Just don't do that shit again, man. [name] got pissed."

LMFAO like saying it in a hushed tone so she can't hear because please she has the sharpest hearing. But no no no to answer your question, Hesh does not share not even with his brother. You are his and his only

That's him if you touch his wife^

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cryptid-ghoulette · 1 day

Text

You can always reach me

Some days rain really struggles, but luckily phantom is there to help

(shout out to @sister-nyx for giving me the push to finish this!)

WC - 683

Includes - rain dealing with chronic pain, very mildly injured phantom, but very much fluff with a happy ending.

Rain slumped face-first onto the couch, ignoring the others who were sitting at the dining table. He was too tired to hear anything they might have been saying. His head pounded, and the sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening and ceaseless. He didn’t even care that he could barely breathe with his face smooshed into the musty couch, and even if he did care, he was pretty sure none of his limbs would respond.

He wondered if this was the time he wouldn’t be able to get back up, if this was the moment his body finally just gave up, leaving him stuck inside his own head, permanently part of the couch until someone came and peeled him off it, like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

Eventually, he felt a hand tousle his hair, and a familiar voice said far too cheerily, “Hey, let me join this pity party,” followed by the weight of someone directly on his back, curling into a ball, purring loudly into the crook of his neck.

Of course, it was Phantom. The youngest of the ghouls and by far the sweetest. “Hey bug, comfy?” Rain joked, his voice a little muffled by the couch.

Phantom let out a soft giggle, gently lifting one of Rain's arms. “Yep, very. You okay, Rain? You feel even more floppy than usual,” he said, letting the arm fall back onto the couch with a dull thud.

“Just a bad pain day, nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about me, Ant,” he said, still face-down in the couch, trying his hardest to hide just how tired and sore he really was. He knew Phantom would see right through him, though. The kid had a sixth sense for lies, especially when Rain was the one telling them.

“Well… if it makes you feel any better,” Phantom started to say, moving off Rain and back onto the couch, Rain rolling onto his side. “I got this earlier today falling down the stairs coming back from Mountain’s room. Tripped over my own tail,” he said, pulling up his pant leg to reveal a large bruise trailing along the side of his knee, already starting to turn a deep, angry purple.

Rain winced. “Ouch, Bug. You do know you control your tail, yeah?” Phantom rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Do you want my help or not?” Rain chuckled softly, nodding his head and rolling back onto his stomach with a groan, letting his body settle back into the dent in the couch.

The small quint took his place on Rain's back again, curling up tightly, purring louder, letting the vibrations rumble through Rain’s body, a warmth slowly spreading, and he could feel his body relaxing, sinking further into the couch (if he couldn’t move before, now it was probably worse, but for the best reasons).

There’s something about Phantom’s purrs that is magical. Rain knows it’s probably the quintessence, but the soft hum settles into his very bones, warming him from the inside out, loosening all the knots and tangles of muscle and sinew.

This little exchange has become an unspoken agreement between the two of them, both knowing more than most what it's like to have a body that is more often than not aching in some way or another, even if for two entirely different reasons. Rain's pain is more chronic, something he can't control, while Phantom’s is mostly out of clumsiness and his seeming inability to fully control his own tail. Either way, the two of them have bonded in mutual agony, with Rain quick to share any heat packs, band-aids, and some of Mountain’s special teas, and Phantom always happy to help with some purrs and a little quintessence.  Eventually, the rest of the pack spotted the two on the couch; by then, both were sound asleep. Phantom continued to purr on Rain's back, while Rain quietly purred into the couch. It wasn’t long before Mountain fetched a blanket, draping it gently over Phantom and Rain without disturbing their peaceful slumber, both completely at ease.

#the band ghost #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #cryptidrambling #my fics

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oceansssblue · 1 day

Note

If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:

-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)

-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one

-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea

Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)

Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).

They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!

"BED REST"

TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: none

Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.

What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.

Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.

"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"

Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.

You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.

Wrecker hesitates.

"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".

You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.

"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.

Wrecker frowns in disagreement.

"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".

You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.

"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.

Wrecker glances to the side.

"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".

You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...

"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".

Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.

"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"

Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.

You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.

You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.

Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.

Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.

Yeah. He will.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"TO PLAN A FAMILY"

TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.

You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.

They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.

Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.

It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.

"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"

At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.

"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.

You frown, lost.

"Why not?"

Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.

His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.

"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".

You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.

"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".

Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.

"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"

Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.

"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".

You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".

Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.

Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.

Echo hums and conceeds.

"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".

You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.

You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.

"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.

Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.

"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".

You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.

You kiss him again and yawn.

"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.

Echo smiles.

"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.

You hum in disagreement.

"I'm as good as you deserve".

That night, you both dream of your own little family.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.

I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here!

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bellyasks · 3 days

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prompts for reader and their best friend watching a movie, but sth he (best friend) ate wasn’t fine and his tummy starts to hurt really bad??

[warning for some implied/potential emeto]

You're happily watching the movie when you hear a pained rumble from beside you. You glance down to see your friend's belly protruding uncomfortably beneath their hands. They're clearly trying to hide their discomfort, staring nervously at the screen and attempting to avoid eye contact, but both their belly and their face are betraying them. What do you do?

You notice that your friend seems to be feeling a little under the weather during the movie, but neither of you says anything about it. You personally don't think much of it until something gross happens onscreen. Your friend covers their mouth as their stomach lurches, but they recover, finally sitting back with a shaky gulp. What's your next course of action? Do you have any remedies for your friend's upset tummy?

Your friend's upset tummy is gurgling and grumbling unhappily, and it's particularly noticeable during the quiet parts of the movie. You even miss a very soft bit of dialogue because of it and have to rewind to hear it. Embarrassed, they apologize and start to suggest that maybe they should leave. Do you stop the movie to take care of them? Reassure them that it's alright?

You've been looking forward to this movie night all week, but just as it's getting good, your friend starts whining about their belly. They're pulling your hand to their achy middle for rubs, laying their head on your shoulder, groaning and complaining, and overall being a total drama queen. You really want to watch the movie, but your friend is begging for your attention. Do you give it to them?

You're watching some fabulously repulsive body horror masterpiece filled with the finest slime and gore the 80s had to offer. You glance over at your friend to find that they're looking a little green and clammy, and you realize that David Cronenb*rg is about to be personally responsible for ruining your couch upholstery (although Chef Boyardee definitely helped). Do you stop the movie? Are you able to help soothe your friend's unsteady stomach before anything terrible happens?

You and your friend are enjoying an assortment of snacks you picked out for your movie night, and even as your friend starts feeling not so great, they can't help but keep picking at the snacks. They make a point of trying to stop at least once, but the allure of popcorn and pizza rolls is far too strong. Do you try to get them to stop eating, or does their belly stop them first?

#prompts #belly kink #tummy kink #stomachache kink #bellyache #belly #my post

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fanfic-recs-01 · 3 days

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Miraculous LadyBug fic recs

This is a list of Miraculous Ladybug fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Fair warning his is mostly going to be Felix/Marinette and Damian Wayne/Marinette.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Felix Graham De Vanily

Hey, Little Songbird by charlietheepic7

~Really, Felix couldn't believe his cousin sometimes. Marinette was talented, beautiful, kind, and had a crush on Adrien bigger than the mansion, yet Adrien was blind to the treasure right in front of him. "Just a friend," indeed.

Well, if Adrien wasn't going to do anything, it wouldn't matter if Felix... snatched her up?~

Welcome To The Back by Geeeny

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng sits alone in the back. Until she doesn't.~

birds of a feather by WithLovePoohBear

~When Mme Bustier’s class gets a new student, Marinette might just finally find true friends who love and support her for who she is.

But more accurately, she finds her home.~

Pen Pals by That_Kwami_plagg

~Marinette and Felix have been Pen Pals for two years. She tells him everything. All of the abuse, lies and manipulations. He became her sanctuary, and her his. What happens when Felix moves to France? Can he help her through her struggles, or will he be another victim of Lila?~

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Damian Wayne

She’s Sunshine, She’s Grace, She’ll Punch You in the Face by Brinxiethebear

~Marinette struggles to stay happy nowadays but what better way to change your mood than with a change of location? Adrien gave up his miraculous so he could start fresh. After all, his dad was in prison for being the super villain Hawkmoth and his other caretaker Nathalie died from over use of a broken Miraculous. So now Marinette is the guardian of the miraculous. ~

for us to collide by LadyLiterature

~The story of Marinette stumbling upon the illustrious Wayne family over and over again, as well as the more infamous Bats, over the course of her many visits to Gotham. She, of course, charms the whole lot of them and finds that the same is true in the reverse.~

A Robin and His Lady by ProudGeek4Ever

~Marinette lost her friends to Lila, Adrien was long forgotten and Chat Noir kept getting more irresponsible. Being a teenage superhero was stressfull, but Marinette's life takes a turn for the better when a chance meeting in Gotham changes everything. Damian changes everything.~

No, Mr. Wayne, You Can't Adopt Me! by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime)

~Bruce's personal assistant is scarily competent---she seems to know the best decision at each time, predict emergencies, and is an expert at handling all of his children. But what if there's more to her than meets the eye?~

More Than One Secret by Tyshian

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has Secrets. Damian Wayne has Secrets. The pair together have Secrets.~

Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd by crazyjc

~Alright, this is based on laraceleste's Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception—Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7.~

It's Just Indifference by dontyoublink

~Marinette thought she would just get some inspiration for her designs when she headed to the park. As luck would have it, she also meets four (interesting? unique? slightly insane?) Americans. Frisbee, ice cream, and much-needed conversations ensue.~

World's Greatest Detectives, My Ass by Appleberry84

~Marinette figures out the Batfam's identities and decides to torture them.~

Leave it Behind by ShannonEsmerelda

~Marinette Dupain-Cheng has grown tired of Paris, and the miracle box was no longer safe there. It'd been active in the country for too long, seen too much damage. She needed to find a place for both her and the kwami's to heal, while still having the ability to be a hero. So, why not Gotham? The city had enough crime for both her and the bat family without getting in each others way, right? Right?~

Report to HR by SimplyAnotherWriter

~Look; Bruce liked Marinette. If the girl hadn’t already had loving and adoring parents that had spotless records and nothing incriminating about them whatsoever(Bruce had checked long and hard), he probably would have adopted the girl just like he had the others.

However, things wouldn't remain this perfect if Damian continued to try and mess it up by SCARING the poor girl!~

The Sun Who Lit Up The Night Sky by FandomQueen10325, leaping_lizard_babe

~4 months after the defeat of Hawkmoth, the akuma class wins a trip to Gotham. While they are there, Marinette keeps attracting bad luck, and can never seem to stay out of trouble. The Batfam is very interested when they learn about what had happened in Paris, so they question ladybug.~

Travels of Passion by StarShine583

~When people as famous as the Waynes come to visit your city, the most you'd expect to get from them is a quick little smile. A hand shake if you're in the right place at the right time and extremely lucky. Marinette didn't really expect to get either, and she certainly didn't expect to get what she actually got.~

Of Birds and Bugs (revising and rewriting) by orphan_account

~Marinette was a busy girl. Between her idol work as NeTi, and her duty as Ladybug, it was hard to do everything else, like being a good class president. Still, she was able to pull through.

Somehow, the class get's a trip to Gotham, sponsored by Bruce Wayne himself, and it looked like Marinette would be able to take a break for once.~

Dinner at Wayne Manor by littlefleetinglight for

~In the front hall standing in a line was Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damien; in that orders, with Alfred standing in front of them like an officer in front of his troops.

“Now, when Ms.Marinette arrives there will be no inappropriate language, no crude gestures or noises, and there will be no interrogation. Do you gentlemen understand?”~

#SunshineOfGotham by sixtyeightdays

~All of Gotham knows Marinette, the Sunshine who's made her way into everyone's hearts. But so what if all of Gotham knows Marinette? Does her class know that they know Marinette? Of course not, why would they! But, well, let's see how they find out.~

Rockin’ the House by littlefleetinglight for

~It was another charity gala held by the Wayne Family; this one was raising funds for art programs across the world, and because it was for art there were artists of all types from all over, including the famous Rock’n’Roll artist Jagged Stone…and his guest.~

To marry an Assassin by PL_Panda

~Marinette wakes up in a cell and later is forced to marry a member of the League of Shadows, who is also less than willing. Exactly what she was pulled in? And of course there is magic involved, so no cancellation. And apparently in Tibet ancient orders can marry minors off just like that. This was definitely not Damian's day. Or Week. Or month. He got married with a random girl...~

Who Needs Words? by AKP31E

~After the defeat of Hawkmoth and the retirement of Suhan, Marinette’s life is just getting crazier. She doesn’t know how a soulmate could ever fit into her life, and sometimes she thinks the two letters on her wrist are just the universe’s joke to her, but she knows better than to bank on it. Her soul mark isn’t even a word. Who is going to say “Tt” to her?~

History Repeats by DesertSnowQueen

~When Kitty Noire makes an appearance in Gotham, she finds herself drawn to a certain little bird whose brothers are far too entertained by this turn of events~

Magical Girl by Judysupremus

~Marinette accidentally portals into the batcave.~

The Power of Luck by FridayFirefly

~The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects, none more powerful and unpredictable than the power of Miraculous Luck. When Marinette's family relocates to Gotham, Marinette finds her Miraculous Luck leading her down a path she never would have expected, a path that leads straight to Damian Wayne.~

The events on a Saturday Morning by orphan_account

~Marinette and Damian have been in a long distance relationship for over a year with (most) of the Batfamily not knowing at all until a young girl stumbles through a portal on a Saturday morning.~

Friendly Sunshine In Gotham by M1dn1ght_Star

~Marinette is happy to be back in Gotham after a visit with Jagged several years ago. This might just end up being the perfect way to expose Lila once and for all, as a nice bonus to seeing her honorary family and boyfriend again.~

Daminette Soulmate AU by keeptellingyourselfthat

~Tradition says that your soulmate will have another tattoo, something that relates to you. When they meet you, it is said that the tattoos start glowing a bright gold.~

Calling for Help by Dramatic_Squirrel

~It's been a month since the Battle of Miracle Queen and Marinette has been struggling alone under the pressure of being the new guardian. With her training yet to have been completed, Marinette makes her first official decision as the new guardian, to ask the Justice League for help.~

serendipity by keeptellingyourselfthat

~The last time Damian AL-Ghul saw Marinette was when they were twelve. He didn't think he would see her again. So, it's a huge surprise when he stumbles upon her in WE while exposing the liar of the class from France.~

In The Wrong Bed? by San_fics

~“Like I said,” Jason yawned. “Eventually everyone in this family goes crazy.”

“I'm not crazy!” Damian protested. “She was here!”

“Maybe you just had a very realistic dream?” Dick suggested.

“I’m perfectly capable of distinguishing dreams from reality, thank you very much!” Snapped Damian. “She was real and she was in my bed!”~

Cat Cursed by TheStarfishAlien

~The Cheng family carries a curse. Every other generation carries a second form, that of a cat. Their dual nature makes it difficult for those with the curse to fit in with society. Some flee permanently into the form of the cat, while others try their hardest to pretend that their cat form does not exist. Very few find a balance in the middle.~

Secrets, Masks and Family Gatherings by ggomoz (ggomo_springtime)

~After nearly a year of being together, Damian finally decides to introduce Marinette to his family.~

living among the regular people of the world trying to blend in by another_cancer

~Marinette was an assassin named ladybug that was supposed to kill Damian, but she didn't and now they meet again years later.~

New but True by yannowhatigiveup

~Damian and Marinette are kidnapped from their lives to be betrothed to one another. Unfortunately, they were separated and missed the other greatly. Once realising that Marinette is in Gotham for a school trip, Jon, being the good friend he is, reunites them.~

Eons & Eternities by Utopian_angel

~After dedicating many life cycles to an endless conflict between chaos and order, Ra's Al Ghul decides to use his last chance to form a union.

A union between their respective heirs that will last for eons & eternities.~

Use Your Brain by Judysupremus

~Marinette and her class go to Gotham. What happens when she has to rescue Chat Noir from Batman?

The is silly, potentially crack.~

An Awkward Reveal by Miraculous_786

~Who can blame Edward Nygma for being protective over his adopted daughter?

The very daughter who was dating Damian Wayne right under his nose.~

The Bride that can Break Bones by LovesWifi

~Marinette and Damian are betrothed and that's all you need to know.~

#marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #daminette #felinette #miraculous ladybug #fic recs #felix graham de vanily

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