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takes1 · 6 months ago

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Can you do needy kenma smut????? Plzzzz

needy!kenma can't keep his hands off of you

this was incredibly fun to write lmao, just some nasty, feel-good stuff here

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / established relationship / fluffy smut / whiny!kenma / cuddly!kenma / so much PDA / kuroo wants to third / tired!kenma / cuddlefucking / dacryphilia / switchy!kenma / subby!kenma / kenma begging a lot / cumming inside / f!rec oral / passionate sex / kenma loves head scratches / 2.8k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN

Nekoma was walking away with a laborious and well-fought win against their last opponent of the day. It was a lengthy, painstaking endeavor to watch-- let alone to play it all. With months of experience under your belt, you were prepared for Kenma to be tired.

Yet, as he stumbled up to you, hot and wet and miserable, a shocked chuckle drifted past your lips.

"Mmnh-! Thank Goood," He moaned into the comfort of your shoulder and let himself collapse onto you.

The unbridled sound startled not only you, but got the attention of his teammates, still trying to find their partners or family in the crowded and noisy halls.

You wavered under so much weight at once and took on a staggered stance, having completely underestimated his exhaustion just by the look of him.

"C'm'over t'night-," He begged, right away.

He spared no time to talk about the game, his condition, or to say hello.

"Kenma-!"

You half-laughed at his theatrics and his desperate tone. It wasn't rare for him to be grabby or gropey after a game, but this was explicit stuff for an environment so public. He also wouldn't let up on how much he was leaning on you; although he wasn't a big guy, his dead weight wasn't something you weren't equipped to carry.

"Please b'by," He blubbered against your neck; it turned into a big, wet kiss, and a very intimate whisper, "I need t' hold you..."

A fretful sound stayed shared between you, against his shoulder, before you pushed him off to stand on his own. He quickly sunk to the floor.

"Oh my gosh-," You hauled him right back up, eyes darting around for explanation and found Kuroo, "Is he okay?"

Finally given a strong reason to tease, Kuroo shrugged, leaning closer to your height. He was inspecting him to see if he was at risk for something serious, but found nothing other than his friend's shitty stamina to blame.

Kuroo stood back up, a fake sincerity in his face and to his words, "Hm...Looks like he just needs some T&A."

"You're not helping," You snapped, adjusting under Kenma as he yawned against your hair.

He only snickered at your plight.

The team was supposed to go out for a victory meal, courtesy of their Coach, but Kenma refused to attend if you weren't invited. He refused to do a lot of things, including getting his hands off of you, even when formally told to do so. It was only because Kuroo was their Captain, and held a special fondness for the two of you, that you were vouched for and allowed to be there.

It put you in a tough position. You planned to bring it up to Kenma when he wasn't so useless.

He held you in a vice grip, all bent over, cheek atop your shoulder, the entire ride there. You were stuffed in the corner of the car, suffocated by his body, the addictive smell of his sweaty uniform under a hoodie you brought for him. He flat-ignored every single attempt to talk from the rest of the team, so you took up the mantle of answering for him, if it was needed.

"He's fine- he's just tired," Was one you found yourself repeating at least four times.

But you weren't exactly sure if that was the only thing ailing him. He wasn't usually this bad after a match.

"Carry me?" He begged.

"Baby, you know I can't do that."

He slid like a liquid out of the car, into the restaurant, onto booth seat next to you- practically on top of you. Kuroo trapped the two of you in from the outside and you were once more, squished against a wall.

His leg wrapped around yours, his head returned to your shoulder, arm around you, a groany sigh in his throat.

Kenma was usually very touchy, too touchy- in most cases- but this was a brand new extreme.

"Can we just go home?" Was a question for both you and Kuroo.

You pressed a long, loving peck to his temple, your fingers reached into his hair to scratch his scalp, reassuring.

"No, you need to eat something first."

You tried to stifle your reaction to his hands gripping the table. His eyes were scrunched tight at how fucking good that new manicure felt.

The weight of his head was crashing into your palm, something too close to a whine at the top of his throat.

Your hand was back in your own lap. He leaned towards the absence, dizzy in the aftermath.

The uncontrollable blush crept into every nook and cranny of your face and it only grew in intensity at Kuroo's curiosity and amusement.

"That feel good, buddy?"

"Shut up," Was in a strained mumble.

He accepted the bowl Kuroo built for him as an apology. He ate gradually, much slower than the rest of the team. While most of the guys worked on seconds, thirds, even fourths, Kenma was lucky to finish what he got the first time.

It was good enough.

As promised, it was straight home after the little dinner celebration. You were able to spend the night last-minute, under the excuse that it was late and you were scared of public transportation in the dark, alone.

The thought that he might feel better after a meal and a shower was proven to be just as wrong. He walked out of the bathroom in just his briefs.

Taut, toned and a little tacky to the touch. His fingers scratched at his smooth belly, like he was still hungry.

You set your phone down and slid to sit on the edge of his bed.

"D'you feel any better?"

Now that you were alone, you were much more receptive to his afflictions. He rubbed his hair partially dry, threw the towel on his gaming chair, and collapsed at your feet.

Kenma stuffed his face in your lap, arms wrapped strong around your legs. He took a sobering breath in, but it did nothing to calm himself down.

"Aaah, you smell sooo good-!" He seethed, fingers filling with your soft thighs.

Kenma's affinity for your scent rivaled that of an animal.

He stole long, messy kisses, right at the top of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart- you squirmed at the tingly sensation, but he gripped you tight.

From here, you had a nice view of his lean and chiseled back. You dragged your nails over it, slow and steady circles, as he sighed and grew heavy in your lap.

His kisses grew slower and distracted, but he didn't stop trying to nuzzle in closer to your sex.

"Missed you..." He mumbled.

His admission buzzed through your clothes, inspiring a strong twitch. He grinned.

Palms sliding under your legs, he knocked you off balance to your elbows and shuffled closer, fingers hooking to pull your clothes off until you were completely bare.

When he got this way, he never wanted to talk much. He couldn't hold a conversation for shit when he was hard, so you were limited with what you could get out of him.

If he felt fine enough for this, he must have been okay the whole time.

"So this was all you needed," You muttered to yourself, grumpy about his behavior for only a moment.

The sloppy kiss against your pussy was all the apology you needed.

You relaxed with a whine and slid back onto his sheets. The wet sounds of him eating you gave you butterflies, no matter how often he did it.

"Ooh-, fuuck," You moaned.

The way he pleased you, regardless of method, was always a slow, sleepy endeavor. He carried a kind of dirty ease about it, never struggling to meet your eyes during the raunchiest parts.

He shot his tongue out far to lap at your needy entrance, slow back up to your clit with a kiss, his stare never wavering from your face.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, your nails back in his hair, and bucked into his strangled groan.

"Did you have some good games today?" You managed to ask, sweet, teasing him.

Your thighs flinched, a whine coming forward, at his long, "Mmmmhmn..."

Hearing him beg for your touch, your body, your attention for hours left you craving him.

You knew he had a short battery for hard work, but he was flat out pathetic all evening. You had never seen him this needy, but it was a huge turn-on.

He met your gaze, leaning hard into your hand.

"You want this pussy?" You tested the waters with a taunt.

His face washed over with complete ease, his brow twisted up tight as he lifted his head from you. You were dripping from his chin.

"Please- yesyes'ys- please--,"

You shushed him- half because it was hot, half because of his family downstairs. You pulled him up by his hair and he rubbed his throbbing erection against you with a whine.

A hot, messy kiss failed to make him quieter, but you were able to at least muffle it.

From here, you could feel how shaky his shoulders were from the demand of the day. It didn't effect how quickly he pulled his cock out and sank into you, never once parting to look or to breathe.

The stretch he gave you was just right- you arched into him, legs bringing him in further.

His sleepy, obsessed gaze only grew harder to focus on as he started to fuck you steady and fast on the edge of his mattress, like he'd been waiting to all day, fantasizing about during every break.

And you lay there, taking him so well, adoring and comforting and supportive- just as you had been, giving up your time to cheer for him at his exhausting day of matches.

"Mmh-!" You whined as he straightened back up, his thumb rolling against your clit.

He was even fucking you with eyes. He wished he could turn you out after every practice, just to blow off steam. If he had your pussy to look forward to, it might motivate him to try a little harder, like Kuroo always joked that he needed.

The glossy, loving look you wore was too much. He grew huffy, tired- closer.

"F-uck," He cried, high and shaky.

His hand squeezed the lower half of your face with varying degrees of strength, as he could manage it. The way he stared down at you was loaded and layered. Somehow mastering the look of both submission and possession.

"You're- mmnh- ahh, you're soo pretty," His eyes rolled back, welled up, another unchecked cry at the back of his throat.

Tears started rolling down his wanton expression. He let you go so he could wipe them.

"Are you- ah-mmn, Okay?"

You reached your hand out to stall his hips. Thighs tired, but squeezing on him to make it harder, but he sniffled and shook his head. He didn't stop.

"You just-," Kenma sobbed again, coming forward to hold you, not forgetting to take the back of your knees with him.

Your shuddery mewl at the motion was talked over- the use of his bodyweight and this position stretched, tightened, your sore pussy around him.

"Feel s-o good."

He shoved his face in the nook of your shoulder, the water from his hair mixing with his tears, soaking the sheets and cooling you off. The struggle in his noise was impossible to distinguish between him crying and moaning.

The lewd sounds of him bottoming out in you had you on edge for a couple of reasons; there was no way his folks couldn't hear this, or least his shitty bedframe squeaking- but he was working you so close to finishing that you didn't dare tell him to be quiet.

"Can I--ah-!" He pulled away, breathy and flushed, his tears dried against his cheeks, "Cum- inside?"

The look, coupled with his deep, rough thrusts, left you speechless. You nodded, unable to form any string of words.

Kenma was all too spoiled- you never had the resolve to deny him at this point, when he needed to cum and asked you nicely. He was so deep, he was so good to you, he begged so well, you couldn't just let him pull out.

You knew you probably shouldn't rely on a little pill to keep this from turning into a big problem, but like every other time he filled you up, it could wait to be worried about.

Right now, you couldn't get enough. You needed it all.

The rhythm of his thrusts got so hard, so fast, you couldn't believe he was acting that tired earlier. You couldn't keep your noise down, and neither could he. So he sandwiched your thighs between you and leaned, even further, to kiss you through your climax.

"Mmn-h," He dug his nails into you, another pitched cry crashing against your sore lips.

Warmth filled you up, leaving you gasping, watching his face, at all the heat he fucked into your spasming cunt.

You were squirming for a while, breath uneven, little whiny noises in his ear, at how hot and sticky and heavy it all was, dripping slow onto the sheets.

His fingers steadied you, grounded you, slow, small, gentle little circles in your hair.

He loved how undone you were, how he could fill you up with just the right amount of dumb for a while if you let him.

Kenma sucked a few bruises into your neck while he waited for you to come down, softening inside but keeping himself buried, mindlessly. He was comfortable. No need to move.

"I'm okay..." You sighed, finally verbal again- he smiled at how cute you were.

He straightened with marked effort. You shared an overstimulated wince at the consequence of the decision.

Eyes closed, you let him slowly straighten your legs back out with a trusting exhale.

"I love you," He affirmed.

It was quiet, simple, and not the first. You brushed his cheek, studying his tear streaks with your thumb as he flopped on his back, next to you. He didn't need to say it out loud for you to know.

A little peck to his chin, "I love you, too."

You stretched, standing, to go clean up and get ready for bed. When you came back from the bathroom, you expected him to be on a game, or at least catching up on his phone.

He was lying just the way you had left him, but fast asleep. Some seize-like twitching confirmed it. He was out cold.

Kenma didn't make a fuss when you had to push him 90 degrees, to get his legs on the bed, and rolled him closer to the center. He quickly fell back asleep, if he had even truly woken up for all of it.

You had just snuggled up to his warm side, falling asleep to his light snoring, when his phone began to ring.

You still answered it straight away in a knee-jerk response, but that's how you knew he was in a deep sleep. He didn't stir at all.

Eyes back on the phone, you realized it was Kuroo and went to say hello.

Your body gave a hard flinch. You didn't realize it was a FaceTime and barely had a second to pan the camera away from anything too incriminating.

He studied, squinting at what he could see. It was just your face, your messy hair, and maybe an aftersex glow, if he looked hard enough.

"Hm. Is Kemma asleep?"

"Mhm," You panned to his sleeping form next to you, not careful enough to leave your shared skin out of it.

He giggled hard at the sight, the sound of him snoring. You heard the clicking of screenshots and grinned at the future grief Kenma would give you for letting it happen. When Kuroo was done, he sucked in a breath.

"Mmm, you did all that?"

You had to take another look at the screen to understand what he meant- if he meant it like that. He sure did. That low-lidded, mischievous smirk was unmistakable.

A roll of your eyes, "What about it?"

He seethed, scanning your pretty, sleepy features. He couldn't resist. "You want me to come finish you off?"

You were too used to his flirting and boundary-ignorance at this point. The best tactic you found was to ignore him.

"Bye, Kuroo--,"

"I'm kiddiiing! Kinda- Ah-hm, You're the best, byyye!"

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@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

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Viktor general romance hcs!

🥀A/n: HES SO POOKIE I LOVE HIM‼️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, slight angst if u squint, switch!viktor

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

this man is such a workaholic, he genuinely never thought that he would fall in love

viktor is very inexperienced in the romance department, so he's definitely a little awkward at first

once he's close with someone, he definitely starts to open up to them a lot more! he'd really appreciate a partner that he can have deep, philosophical conversations with and definitely asks for your opinion on a lot of things

your a very valuable person in his life, and viktor makes sure that you know that. while he may not be great with words, his actions show that he truly cares for you

while he may not admit it, viktor loves when you complete acts of service for him or help him at all. he loves when you visit him in the lab and bring him some coffee, it always makes his day

because he works so much and spends so much time in the lab, viktor will often invite you to join him there. you two often spend hours together, just sitting in near-silence and working in tandem. viktor would love it if you got along well with jayce (and sky too but mostly jayce), you are his favorite people and he would love it if you all got along

viktor isn't the most cuddly person in the world, but he makes some exceptions for you! after a long day, he loves just melting into your embrace and having you play with his hair. viktor would spend hours just laying in your lap and rambling about hextech if he could

he's not big on pda, but he loves holding your hand. viktor holds your hand anywhere and everywhere, he always wants you as close to him as possible and he'll sometimes trace words into the back of your hand with his thumb when you are asleep. before he said "i love you" out loud, viktor probably traced it against your skin at least a million times.

viktor prefers to stay in for dates, and definitely enjoys staying up late with you. idk if they have television in the world of arcane, but it seems a little shocking that they can have giant magical teleportation portals and literal magic orbs and magic flying blimps and body enhancing drugs but haven't created a tv. so like. lets just pretend they do have television. cuz if they do, than you and viktor DEFINITELY have movie marathons and movie nights together

he loves making you little trinkets and gifts!!! whenever there is extra material leftover at the lab, viktor's first thought is to make something for you! he once made you an entire bouquet of fake flowers out of scrap metal, and told you that he would love you until the flowers withered (it would never wither cuz its made of metal ☹️). your home is practically overflowing with these little trinkets, but you REFUSE to get rid of any of them (i think i saw the flower scenario on a tiktok, but URGRHRHRH i wanna write it so... if anyone is interested... 😇)

honestly, the best time spent with viktor is in the comfort of your own home. you have a very domestic relationship, and he likes sitting with you in comfortable silence.

he'll call you pet names in zaun, even before you two are together😭

overall, viktor is genuinely such a sweetheart once he trusts you and will stay by your side no matter what

nsfw:

SWITCH LEANING SUB 🫵🫵🫵

because of his leg and overall sickness, viktor definitely prefers simpler positions that don't require a lot of physical stress

he likes having you on top of him so that he doesn't have to put pressure on his knee, and he definitely prefers not having to push himself too hard

i'd say his favorite positions would probably be you riding him, sitting on his face, lotus position, and maybe 69 or missionary too (but the last two are only on good days when he isn't in too much pain)

at first, viktor was insecure about sleeping with you because he genuinely does not think very highly of himself and didn't want you to think that he was weak or ugly :( please reassure him

ON THAT TOPIC!!! PRAISE!!!!!!

praise is literally SO important to him, while it is one of his kinks i genuinely think he appreciates it outside of the bedroom as well.

lots and lots of communication. "is this ok", "can i touch you here", type of stuff. he's very gentle with you, and obviously you are with him as well

because he wears his leg brace literally all the time, viktor has a handful of bruises and scars from the brace rubbing against his skin 24/7 (idk if he sleeps w it on tbh- im assuming not but u get the point) and he can be a little insecure about them. PLEASE kiss them and show his body a lot of affection in general

viktor isn't super vocal at first, but once he trusts you he lets out the neediest whines and moans. he curses a lot under his breath, and he has a verrryyyyy pretty fucked-out expression.

this man is a switch 100%. most of the time he subs and bottoms, but sometimes he'll dom from the bottom and very occasionally he'll dom from on top. when he's a sub i definitely see him as, like, the male version of a pillow princess. he definitely just wants to lay back and get taken care of, and will get very pouty if you do not do so. he loves being pampered and praised and he's SOOO sensitive when he's subbing. when he's in a more dominant mood, i see him getting off on your pleasure a lot more than his own. he loves fingering you, and definitely loves overstimulating you

viktor loves being marked and also marking you. he bites down on your shoulder a lot to muffle his moans, and he loves giving you hickeys. i genuinely think that's another one of his kinks as well

TOYS!!! im sorry but this man definitely has an extensive collection of sex toys you can't tell me im wrong bc im not. he isn't inexperienced by any means, but he probably got a lot of toys over the years because he just didn't really have that many partners and just wanted to try a bunch of things on his own yk? anyways, he fucking LOVES using them on you and teasing you mercilessly is definitely part of your guys' foreplay

this man has the most gorgeous hands and definitely puts them to good use‼️ you cannot tell me viktor does not have amazingly skilled hands bc your wrong. he literally does jayce told me

i don't think he's super vanilla but i also don't think he's into like SUPER hardcore bdsm? i think it would intrigue him but he's probably the type to be into what you are into and if you want to try something new, he's more than willing (as long as its safe. either of you getting seriously hurt is a major nono for him). that being said, i don't think he'd mind being handcuffed or experimenting a bit with shibari, but you guys DEFINITELY have a safeword. like even if you have 100% vanilla soft sex he still establishes a safeword with u and makes sure your comfortable.

overall, his kinks include: praise (giving and receiving), little bit of edging (receiving), overstimulation (only giving), marking, and kind of a wildcard but also maybe somnophilia. like he would NOT complain about waking up to head lmao- he's def the type to have wet dreams i want to write this omg

i am so! tired!!! still feeling very crappy but i am pushing through my classes until the end of the year 😭 i am so close and yet so far 🙂‍↕️

ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ARCANE REQUESTS!!! ive also been on a huge jayce x viktor streak lately? im not usually a big shipper but their dynamic intrigues me. i want to put them in a jar together and shake them around a bit. but yea i love them both!!!

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babyleostuff · 7 months ago

Text

― FIRST SNOW

there is a superstition that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you like, true love will blossom between both and it will be long-lasting.

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, cuddly and in love love gyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 518

💌 natalia’s note: ik it may be a bit early for winter fics but recently we had first snow in poland and i just had this urge to write something about it [edit: and now korea also had its first snow so yippie]

“look!”

you hummed and nodded weakly, though instead of opening your eyes you snuggled further into mingyu's warm chest, basking in the softness of his sweater and the steady beat of his heart underneath your ear.

days off were the best.

“baby,” your boyfriend murmured excitedly against your temple and ran his cold finger along your cheek. “it’s snowing!”

with mingyu’s arm holding your waist in a tight grip; not that you complained, the afternoon teddy bear cuddles, especially in the colder weather were the best, it was a bit difficult for you to actually move to see the supposed snow.

“it’s so pretty,” he said in awe, as if it was his first time seeing it. “look, look!” he said and pointed at the window that was behind you.

“gyu?” you mumbled and propped yourself on his chest as much as you could. “i’d really love to see it, but you’re holding me hostage and my neck is too sore to turn it all the way around”.

mingyu’s eyes widened, and a small pout appeared on his face. “oh shit, right. sorry.”

you cupped his chin and placed a kiss at the tip of his nose. "'s okay," you said, before sitting all the way up and turning around towards the window.

and your boyfriend was right. even though your view of the city below was very blurry due to mingyu's apartment being on a high floor, you could still imagine how pretty the streets must look now, covered in the white fluff.

“i can’t wait to beat your ass in a snowball fight,” you said and turned back to your boyfriend.

you weren’t sure if it was due to the bad lightning, since mingyu insisted on turning all the lights off and lightning some candles, but you could’ve sworn he was blushing, but before you could ask him about that he took a hold of your hand and pulled you back to his chest.

“you know what the first snow means, right?” he asked after a beat of silence.

nodding, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face.

“we’ve been together for five years, gyu. i don’t think that superstition counts for us anymore.”

he hummed and nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head. “maybe,” he said. “but i like to believe that every first snowfall we witness in this life will allow us to meet our next ones,” you felt his hand brush the hair from your neck in a gentle manner, “and i hope to witness as many of them as we can.”

not really knowing what to say, because who the hell says things like that, you lifted your head from the crook of mingyu’s neck and looked at his ruffled dark hair and shiny brown eyes that were looking at you with more love than it should be legal.

“you’re impossible, kim mingyu,” you shook your head with a laugh.

all you got in response was an irresistibly devastating grin, before he leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss that could melt any amount of snow.

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lostingrayrain · 8 months ago

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hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

#homicipher #homicipher x reader #mojibake #mozibake #文字化化 #mr silvair x reader #mr silver x reader #mr silver hair x reader #mr crawling x reader #mr hood x reader #mr machete x reader #mr gap x reader #mr scarletella x reader #ask #anonymous

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sereia4skz · 2 days ago

Note

hi can you please write an imagine where you and chan spend a cute cuddly day, just soft romance

drabble | you're home

pairing: chan x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: n/a

word count: ~300

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

The front door clicks softly shut, and before you can even turn around, two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. Chan buries his face into your shoulder with a quiet, exhausted sigh.

“Missed you,” he mumbles, voice a little hoarse from too many nights on stage.

You lean back into him instinctively, your hands resting over his. “You smell like airport and sweat.”

He laughs, nose brushing your neck. “Thanks, babe. Missed your honesty too.”

You gently wiggle out of his arms and turn to face him, cupping his cheeks. He looks tired—his curls are flattened from the flight, his under-eye circles a little darker, his lips chapped. But he’s smiling at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the whole world.

“Welcome home,” you whisper, eyes misting a little despite yourself.

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’m not moving for a week. You’ll have to drag me to the shower.”

“Actually,” you say, tugging him toward the bedroom, “I was going to make you unpack first.”

He groans dramatically but follows. “Torture.”

You both end up sitting on the floor, suitcases open, clothes half-folded into the laundry basket. Chan starts telling you stories, some chaotic, some sweet, about the tour as he hands you crumpled shirts and mismatched socks. You listen, hanging on every word, stealing soft glances at him each time he yawns or runs a hand through his messy hair.

Eventually, the basket’s full, the suitcase empty, and Chan’s head is in your lap while the washing machine hums in the background. His eyes are closed, lips parted, fingers loosely wrapped around yours.

“You okay?” you ask softly, brushing his fringe from his forehead.

“Mhm,” he murmurs. “Just… I’m so glad I’m home. With you.”

Your heart does a little somersault. You bend down and kiss the top of his head.

“Me too, Channie.”

The apartment smells faintly of detergent and summer rain, and you don’t even care that you’re both on the floor. He’s here. You’re together. And for now, that’s all you need

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #christopher bang #bang chan

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doliveiraa · 14 days ago

Text

soft paws, warm hands - hwang hyunjin

pairings : ferrethybrid!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre : fluff

wordcount : 1.0k+

a/n : i decided to write this because i’ve lately been reading a lot of skz hybrid things! i didn’t know how you guys would feel about this, but here i am. feedback is appreciated! enjoy my lovelies! ♡ ^^

the hybrid adoption center always made your heart ache a little.

so many hopeful eyes. so many small noises, little paws, twitching ears and tails. they all looked at you like you were their last chance. but today, you came in with real purpose—you were ready to adopt. something small. something cuddly. something to keep you company in your quiet apartment.

"the ferret hybrids are down this hallway," the caretaker said with a warm smile. you nodded, heart picking up pace.

as you stepped into the smaller room, the soft hum of a heat lamp and gentle chirps of communication filled the space. there were a few cages, each spacious and lined with toys and blankets. one ferret curled into a fuzzy donut and didn’t stir. another was chewing a cardboard tube, absolutely lost in it.

but the one that caught your eye was sitting right at the front of the cage, tiny paws gripping the bars, beady eyes focused entirely on you.

he had creamy brown fur, slightly lighter around the face, and little dark speckles down his back. he blinked once, tilted his head—and then stood upright on his hind legs like he was trying to get a better look at you.

"oh my god," you whispered, your heart completely gone. "hello there."

the little ferret perked up even more at your voice. you knelt down, offering a hand through the bars, and instead of scurrying away like you expected, he leaned forward and gently nudged your fingers with his tiny nose. then he crawled right into your palm like he belonged there.

"that’s hyunjin," the caretaker said behind you. "he’s… special. came in a few weeks ago. no one's even held him before."

your brows furrowed. "really? he just crawled into my hand."

the caretaker blinked. "he… did?"

you smiled and gently stroked his head with a finger. "he’s perfect. i’ll take him."

♡

the ride home was quiet, hyunjin curled up in the blanket-lined carrier, occasionally peeking up to look at you. you caught his eyes in the rearview mirror more than once.

when you finally set him down in your apartment, he hesitated for a moment. then he stretched long and low like a noodle, and began to explore. it was honestly adorable—he climbed onto your couch and burrowed under the pillows, poked his head into your slippers, tried to crawl up your pants once (before tumbling back down with a dramatic squeak).

"you’re really something else," you laughed as you followed him around, "aren’t you gonna transform back at some point?"

he squeaked and flopped over dramatically. no shift. just vibes.

you assumed he needed to feel safe. comfortable. maybe he just liked being in ferret form for now. that was fine. you weren’t in any rush.

♡

a few days passed, and you settled into your new routine with hyunjin. he was smart, playful, curious—and oddly good at following you around the house. he had this little hopping run that made you giggle every time. and even when he was mischievous, like stealing your socks or trying to climb the curtains, he always found a way to charm you out of being mad.

that morning, you’d been working on a diy project in your room. a little bookshelf you were painting and assembling by hand. music played softly from your phone. hyunjin was asleep in a pile of laundry nearby, his tiny chest rising and falling peacefully.

you were cutting some thick fabric to line the shelves when the scissors slipped.

“fuck—!” you gasped as pain flared through your hand. your thumb throbbed instantly, and blood began to drip, dark and fast.

you dropped the scissors with a clatter, backing up and gripping your hand. panic was bubbling up when you heard frantic scrabbling—hyunjin was suddenly up, his little feet thudding lightly against the floor as he sprinted toward you.

“hyunjin—” you started, blinking through the pain.

he didn’t stop to nuzzle or sniff. instead, he turned sharply into your closet, disappeared behind some hanging clothes—then came back out dragging a pair of sweatpants.

you blinked, woozy from the sight of blood, confused.

and then right in front of you, he shimmered.

not with magic or some dramatic spark, but subtly—fur melting into skin, tiny limbs elongating and shifting until suddenly, a tall, bare-skinned man stood in front of you.

hyunjin.

naked.

you choked on air, your brain unable to fully catch up to what just happened. he was… he was stunning. lean but toned, long limbs, golden skin, sharp cheekbones, lips parted in focus. and yeah—he was huge. not just tall. your gaze dipped once, and you swore your soul left your body.

“i’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, pulling on the sweatpants in a hurry. “i—i usually wait longer to shift. but you—i smelled the blood.”

his voice was soft, deep, slightly raspy. he tied the waistband quickly, and the pants, somehow, fit perfectly on his hips.

you blinked at him, still crouched and holding your hand. “you’re… you’re human.”

“hybrid,” he corrected gently, stepping forward. “may i see it?”

you nodded numbly.

he knelt in front of you, still shirtless, and took your wrist with warm fingers. his touch was surprisingly delicate. he pulled a tissue from your nightstand and pressed it firmly against the wound. the pain made you flinch, and his eyes softened.

“i’ll clean it up after the bleeding stops,” he murmured. “but you’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t stop staring.

his eyes were this deep brown, framed by long lashes. his hair, slightly wavy and falling into his face, still held some of the soft brown tones from his ferret form. and his body—god—he was so effortlessly beautiful. lean muscle, smooth skin, soft veins running under the surface. it was almost unfair.

“you’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“you’re half-naked in my bedroom,” you countered weakly.

he chuckled, soft and low. “i can get a shirt, if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

“no,” you blurted. “i mean—no, it’s okay. just… wasn’t expecting you to be that pretty.”

he looked up at that, a slow grin spreading across his face. “you think i’m pretty?”

you groaned. “don’t tease me. i’m bleeding.”

he laughed again and adjusted the tissue gently. “you’ll need some antiseptic. bandages, too. stay here.”

he stood, and you watched his back as he padded to the bathroom. broad shoulders, a slim waist, that damn waistband hanging low on his hips. you were truly not okay.

he returned with a small first aid kit and sat beside you, cross-legged. the moment he started cleaning the cut with alcohol, he murmured quiet reassurances.

“you were so calm,” you whispered, still watching him.

“i’ve seen worse,” he said. “besides… the idea of you getting hurt and me not helping? i couldn’t stay in ferret form anymore.”

you swallowed hard.

“so… why didn’t you shift sooner?”

he looked thoughtful as he wrapped the bandage snug around your hand. “some hybrids like staying in animal form when they’re unsure. it’s safer. less vulnerable. but with you, even from the cage… i knew i’d be safe.”

you blinked at him.

“you picked me. not because i was rare. or flashy. just because… you liked me. i could tell.”

you couldn’t say anything to that. your heart was beating too loud.

“besides,” he added, eyes flicking to yours, “i was planning to show you eventually. i just… didn’t want to scare you off.”

you smiled, cheeks warming. “you’re the one walking around shirtless, hyunjin.”

he smirked, playful and cocky now. “so you were looking.”

you swatted his arm with your uninjured hand, and he laughed again—warm and bright, so different than the skittish creature you’d first met.

“thank you,” you said quietly after a moment.

he tilted his head. “for what?”

“for helping me. for… trusting me.”

he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m yours, remember? ferret or not.”

you smiled softly.

and maybe it was the blood loss. or maybe it was just him—but you leaned into the warmth of his presence, into the way he gently pulled you close, and let him take care of you that night.

ferret or human. you’d picked him.

and now, he was finally home.

doliveiraa ꪆৎ ― est. june '24 © do not copy or repost my content on other platforms.

#©️ doliveiraa 𝜗ৎ #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hwang hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids #skz

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machinemonstrosity · 2 months ago

Text

HATRED'S EMBRACE | betrayed!1x1x1x1 x reader

WARNINGS - NONE , brief mentions of blood , fluff , comfort but 1x probably needs it more , he/she/they used interchangeably for 1x , 1x with wings truther

a/n - i promise i will get to requests at one point! writing has been difficult for me recently, hence why this one is a little short and maybe sloppy. this radioactive glowstick has been rotating in my head recently.........

She growled any time you attempted to wriggle away.

You never expected 1x1x1x1 to be so… cuddly.

Huge clawed hands grappled at the fabric of your shirt, the surprisingly delicate touch leaving sharp fingertips to lightly graze your stomach. Large wings enveloped you in a dark cocoon, obsidian feathers rustling in sync to the steady rise and fall of her chest. Their breath — in which you never knew he had — ghosted the back of your neck in warm gusts. Each exhale was rumbly, creating a quiet “hnngh” that eventually served as your rhythmic reassurance.

Despite how you initially tensed, bracing for impact and the sickeningly familiar heat of fresh blood trickling down flesh, nothing ever came. Her claws never pierced you. The cold press of the chains entangling their arms somehow never reached you. He caressed you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As if he didn't want to hurt you.

You were both shielded in your own little world. And he wasn't going to let you leave anytime soon.

Truthfully, you were afraid of the expression she was currently wearing. You expected some sort of disgusted scowl, a mocking sneer at your dependency towards such a beast, perhaps. No one in their right mind goes to the manifestation of hatred and malice for comfort, after all. Much less have said manifestation humor your desperate pleas.

The strange benefits of your existence being tolerated by 1x, you presumed.

Limbs interlocked with yours, you finally dared to contort your head behind your shoulder. Yet when your eyes caught the rough features of her face, you found nothing of what you feared.

They looked calm. Peaceful, almost.

He’s taken to burying his face in the top of your head, disheveled white hair falling over your shoulders. It was only after pestering 1x to the point you swore smoke was going to billow from their nostrils that she begrudgingly tore out her hair tie. Not to mention having to coax it out of his hand after — or the last few threads remaining of it.

Admittedly, he looked nice with their hair down. You swore their eyes softened a fraction when you complimented him, even if you were immediately brushed off with a dismissive click of her tongue and a snarl. Your kind words and gestures had an effect on him, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.

You would've maneuvered your body to face them if you knew it wasn't going to startle them. So instead, you settled, simply melting into their careful touch. Accepting his form of affection, knowing they were trying their best. After all, none of this would've been happening if 1x1x1x1 didn't care enough to comfort you.

Letting a walking glowstick snuggle you like a teddy bear made you smile, anyway.

And maybe she was desperate for some comfort, too.

#forsaken x reader #1x1x1x1 x reader #1x4 x reader #forsaken

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honestsycrets · 2 years ago

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mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it.

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free.

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.”

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--”

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.”

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face.

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets.

“She likes it.”

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.”

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar.

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.”

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.”

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,”

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face.

“As many as will make you happy.”

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.”

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?”

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for.

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father.

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.”

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable.

Low sperm count his ass.

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it.

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.”

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.”

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel.

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them.

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.”

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly.

“Sí, Miggy?”

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so.

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that.

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place.

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder.

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck.

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone.

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day.

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is.

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready.

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.”

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.”

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.”

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck.

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.”

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest.

“Who would come in?”

“Peter,” you answer.

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see.

“The balcony, then.”

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?”

“Maybe.”

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter.

“Bend over.”

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now.

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.”

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?”

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again.

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back.

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability.

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable.

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach.

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body.

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs.

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days. “Like… not this.”

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Don’t start.”

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging.

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--”

“Let me guess. She told you.”

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?”

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe.

“Are you sure? I know--”

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.”

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?”

He leers. Peter scuttles away.

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

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lazysoulwriter · 22 days ago

Text

safe here. - pedro pascal. ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: fluff overload, cuddly Pedro, big arms, big hands, small girlfriend energy, fans noticing how he melts into her hugs, gentle physical intimacy, relationship goals vibes

---

Pedro gives the best hugs.

Like, award-winning. God-tier. Can-he-suffocate-me-with-love level.

It’s the arms, really. Thick and strong, always wrapping around you with this all-consuming kind of warmth. One second you’re upright, the next you’re fully cocooned in him—your cheek to his chest, your entire body dwarfed under the size of him.

And those hands? His palm practically covers the entire top half of your back when he presses you close. It’s ridiculous. Unfair. Euphoric.

He always holds you like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s making sure you know: This is home.

Even when people are around, cameras flashing, interviews waiting—he’ll take a second, wrap his arms around your waist from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I needed this,” he’ll murmur into your neck. “You okay?”

And the thing is, he never lets go first.

Even when you start pulling back, he holds on just a beat longer. Like you get to decide when the hug ends, not him.

It drives the internet insane.

After one red carpet, a clip goes viral:

You’re hugging him before stepping back for photos. Pedro’s arms are fully around you, your face pressed to his chest. His hand spreads massive against your back, and people start timing it—

“she pulls away first and he doesn’t even move 😭” “you can see his thumb rubbing her back just once before she steps away omfg” “this is PEAK boyfriend behavior” “his hand is literally half her back. i would never recover.”

And the zoom-ins? Unhinged.

Fans start calling them “Pedro Hugs™” and begging for a hug POV video. Some say they’d pay rent just to be held like that once. One person starts a countdown of how long it takes him to let go in public hugs.

Pedro finds it all hilarious. And maybe a little blushy.

“They’re obsessed with your arms,” you tease one night, scrolling.

He raises a brow, smug. “Jealous?”

You snort. “Only because I have to share you with the internet.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Nah. These arms?” He wraps them around you again, snug. “Exclusively yours.”

And he holds you until you say when.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure@barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom

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dreamjoymemoir · 25 days ago

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oooooooo, i simply love all your turned-into-chimera series! can i ask for phainon next, please? 🙏🙏🙏

yes definitely!! phainon it's your turn to get hit with the chimera beam.

-one day, you find that you just can't find your boyfriend anywhere. he won't (can't) answer his teleslate, and no one seems to have seen him! on a whim, you even gather the courage to ask lady aglaea... with a faint smile, she just gives you the general area of where he may be and suggests that you may need to be a little open-minded about the form he takes.

-you eventually see a flash of white and blue fur scampering down the path, and curiosity tells you to follow. he leads you all the way to the garden of life, where he hesitates in the shadows with some trepidation.

-it's when the little chimera looks up at you with strikingly distinctive blue eyes that you understand what has happened. phainon is... distressed that you caught on before he could fix this. he was honestly just hoping he could figure it out himself without having to worry you about it. the resigned "awooo" he lets out melts your heart and compels you to pet him a lot. he doesn't mind, but it does feel a little embarrassing.

-on his behalf, you ask the chimera keepers what may be done if a human being has turned into a chimera... they just give you funny looks and think you're writing a story. no one seems to have noticed that phainon himself has been transformed, which is probably a good thing!

-phainon as a chimera tries to act relatively normal; he still likes walking you to and from different places and coming along for your usual activities, and he seems like he wants to reassure you that everything is fine even if he's a cuddly little creature. which it is, now that you know nothing truly bad has happened to him... but you can't resist the urge to pick him up and cuddle him. he lets you do this knowing that he'll feel real awkward about it later, because he loves you and needs some affection to lift his spirits anyway. i like to think he's fluffy as a chimera too.

#hsr reader insert #hsr x reader #imagines #requests #phainon x reader #now i'm wondering abt his reaction if reader gave him headpats as a human. hmmm

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reneissence · 29 days ago

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Hello could I have an HSR request how the female reader found a chimera that looks just like them and brought it home. For Phainon and or Mydei pls. Thank youu!!

— “Twins n furs„

feat. Phainon, Mydei — fluff, female reader, i decided to write for both of them anon!

template by cobosxv on devientart

Curled up near of the flowerbed, your fingers graze the warm fur of the chimera, who jumps straight into your arms at the sensation of your touch. And it's, well, you? Not a doppelganger, but the pet did share your style:

Same hair shape, eyes color, even that little tick. And the adorable little thing nuzzles against your arm like they known you for a while.

By the time you return to your assigned room, clutching the soft snoring chimera like a baby, Phanion greets you at the door with an arched brow.

"Is that—? Why does it look exactly like you?"

"Wish i knew! They just...connected with me in a way and i wouldn't just leave them.."

You sat on the couch with the chimera still nestled securely on your lap, Phanion following you behind with a face lighting up with fascination the moment he sees it properly. He leans his chin against your shoulder, watching the creature snooze

"Okay, this is, unfairly cute, and it look really cuddly just like you."

"What does that even mean? And stop staring at me like that."

"But i always do when i like what i see?" smooth reply and voice dropping into that teasing tone, hearing his words made you roll your eyes in annoyance despite the heat rising up in your body, his fingers went up lacing with yours while also petting the chimera's fur.

"So, since it looks like a tiny you and we're together...does this mean i get to do some parenting? Feeding times, bath schedules, name selection…"

"Phanion, you're such a romantic..."

"Well, we are going to take care of it like it's our baby."

Flustered, you hid your face on your free hand as Phainon laugh, pressing a kiss on your temple.

"So what name we'll choose?"

It's in the courtyard that you found it: a small, wide-eyed chimera peeking out from under bushes with its colored fur that glowed in the sun, familiar and possibly you. the creature didn’t run away, just stood looking up at you with gleaming eyes before coming closer, rubbing against your leg.

"Hey there, little one…"

Now, hours later, you awkwardly stood in the shared room, clutching the chimera as Mydei been staring at the bundle in your arms for some good minutes, hand brushing its tiny paw.

"It mirrors you almost perfectly, how adorable."

"It just appeared like that i guess...i didn't want it to leave in the garden either, and i had to show it to you too!"

"You're not imagining it, that chimera really looks like you, and they are as gentle and respectful just as you."

You smile at his compliment, but right when you were about to take a seat, the chimera jump out of your arms to Mydei, who immediately welcomed them out of worry, at the sudden act.

And they were acting like a clingy feline, as if Mydei was their territory, stretching and purr in his arms.

"Haha! It's even a spitting copy of your personality too, clinging to my body just like often do."

"Me? Hah, wow."

Mydei continues to laugh at you not arguing back, your cheeks lightly puffing at the sight of him playing with your lookalike chimera, that seems just as attached to Mydei as it was to you. After all, you did naturally gravitated toward him too.

"You know, it starting to feels like a sort of family, and it's kinda cute."

#hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #phainon x reader #phainon fluff #hsr phainon #mydei x reader #mydei fluff #hsr mydei

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miaoua3 · 2 months ago

Note

hiii Can you write something about clingy Cheol? Like sleeping in arms?

sure!! i love love LOVE writing fluff with cheollie so this is one of the best requests i could’ve gotten tbh lol hope you enjoy!

(pairing: husband! scoups x wife! reader)

one thing to know about cheol?

the moment he gets home from work he will be all over you, not letting you out of his reach for hours to come.

it actually isn’t even bad, compared to how needy and cuddly he gets after he comes back from tour, this is actually very healing and relaxing for you.

you were just reading something on your phone, eyes closing on their own but your consciousness fighting against the sleep because you wanted to welcome cheol home.

just as you were about to doze off yet again, you hear the door open and close, his soft and tired voice calling out “im home” from behind the door.

his arrival makes you immediately wake up all the way, as well as make you get out of the bed and jog lightly to him.

cheol’s fluffy hair gets in his eyes as he tries looking up at you while untying his shoes, gentle smile immediately grazing the corners of his lips the moment he sees you standing there, looking all sleepy and cute in just his pyjama shirt, bare legs calling for him to touch and kiss on, but not now, maybe some other time.

right now he just needs to hug you and cuddle with you. and maybe kiss you for hours to no end.

his heart coos a little when he see you walking over to him with your arms raised above your head, slippers dragging against the wooden floor.

cheol doesn’t think too much before he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up, your legs bent slightly so they wouldn’t drag as he carries you.

as he walks you over back to your room, he presses a soft kiss against your cheek, whispering a soft “hey baby” right into your ear.

you don’t respond to his words, instead you just nuzzle your face deeper into his neck and wait until you reach your bedroom.

once you do, cheol playfully throws you onto the bed, your giggles bouncing off the walls, before he proceeds to jump onto you, almost like a diver would jump into the water. you giggle turns into a full blown laugh, arms and legs wrapping around his body once his body stops bouncing from the force of his landing.

he proceeds to nuzzle his face against your chest, kind of like a cat does when it feels cuddly on occasion. except this cat in particular would cuddle with you all the time of he could. after a minute or so, he raises his head, face a bit red from all the rubbing he did with it.

he just looks so cute you can’t help yourself but to gently grab his face and pull him towards you. he immediately gets the hint and lets himself get pulled, eyes closing on their own in preparation. before long, he feels your kiss softly parting his own in a soft kiss, rush and excitement all left to the side in the name of letting him feel all your love through that kiss.

the kiss goes on for a few minutes, unhurried and deep, before cheol slowly pulls away. he gets up to get undressed but not before he lays another short peck to your soft lips.

you watch him slowly get undressed to his boxers, and you still look at him lovingly just like you did the first time you got to see him like this.

his usually hard and prominent muscles, now covered with a light layer of softness. his cute little tummy makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, knowing it’s there because of you-because you continue to take care of him and feed him, because you make him feel safe enough to let himself…enjoy life. it makes you smile in happiness and love.

before long, cheol is completely changed, wearing only his pyjama bottoms (considering you stole his pyjama set, this is what he has to settle on). once he finishes with washing his face, he excitedly walks over to the bed and gets under the covers, wiggling his cute butt and toes as he gets comfortable.

you chuckle at his silly antics, eyes filled with love scanning his tired but soft looking face.

cheol squints his eyes at your chuckling, his own eyes filled with ideas to get back at you for laughing at him.

before you can even react, he grabs your hands and harshly pulls your body towards him, a gasp escaping you as you basically fly over the bed and towards him.

he immediately wraps his limbs around you-legs tangling with your own, arms wrapping around your torso, hands sticking under his your shirt in the name of gently rubbing your back, short nails softly scratching the soft skin.

you look at him, his soft and big eyes staring right back. he chuckles at you shocked expression, lips kissing your forehead as a way to apologise for being a bit rough on you.

and so, the beginning of the end of your day starts-you two stay like that for hours to come, softly caressing each others skin, even softer kisses exchanged between softly spoken words. the rest of the world eventually quiets down, leaving only you two, in each others arms.

everything about this night is just…soft.

even if he’s so very tired, cheol stays awake the entire time in favour of simply spending time together. cheol loves his job so much, but he absolutely hates that it’s the reason why you two have to settle on quiet, late night conversations so you can say that you two actually spent some time together.

eventually, you two fall asleep between the slurred words and slow blinking.

and as you wake up the next morning, still in his arms, you want to tell cheol that it doesn’t matter that his job keeps him busy, that he doesn’t have to feel guilty about being so busy, that he doesn’t have to sacrifice his sleep so you two can spend a few hours together.

you want to tell him that as long as he comes back home to you, as long as he keeps on loving you softly and gently, just like he always does, that it’s enough.

he is enough.

his love is enough.

soft life with cheol is enough.

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fypage #fluff #scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups x y/n #scoups x you #scoups x reader #scoups seventeen #choi seungcheol x reader

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thatstrangegiiirrlll · 2 months ago

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Weak hero Headcanon

How they act when they have a crush

Yeon Sieun

Sieun is extremely prioritized, his studies are everything. He didn’t ask for friends, but now that he has them, he clearly will do anything to protect them, even when he tries to separate himself and be alone again — It never works out. So someone like him developing a crush would make that person a very special person if they catch his eye. He’d observe quietly, admiring them. He’d do subtle things like help them with class work when he notices them struggling. Whether he makes a move or not would be somewhat difficult to know for sure. But his approach would be slow and steady either way, taking small points out of the day to interact with them.

Ahn Suho

As an extremely protective, confident, and masculine guy, Suho would be the exact same with a crush. He’s tough, but he’s truly a big softie. When it comes to a crush, he’ll roll out the red carpet for them, holding the door open, making them laugh, complimenting them. Suho is the type that will approach a person he’s interested in with confidence that can’t help but win them over. He just oozes charisma that can’t be touched.

Oh Beom-seok

When Beomseok has a crush, he acts distant and somewhat uninterested because he doesn’t know how to navigate his emotions. When interacting with his person of interest, he’d be fidgety and awkward. Beomseok would put them on a pedestal, making it even harder for him to see that they’re just human as well and to shoot his shot. He’d get caught staring at them with adoration and immediately look away in fear of rejection. The chances of him confessing how he feels are slim to none. He’d most likely just remain in his head about it.

Park Humin

Humin is a lot like Suho, but slightly goofier. He’ll do his best to make his crush laugh, knowing that his humor and positive energy is what helps win someone over. He’s not a pretty boy, he’s a tough, manly guy that happens to be a big, cuddly teddy bear. When coming up to his crush, he’ll crack a joke, compliment their outfit, and tell them how beautiful their smile is. Humin’s boldness will definitely win them over.

Seo Juntae

Juntae is very meek and timid, but when he has a crush he follows them around like a lost puppy. He does cute things like write them love notes and bring them their favorite snacks. When they’re down, he always encourages them, even when he doesn’t know the right words to say. He always knows how to bring light into a dark situation. His bright attitude and adorableness will make anyone fold.

Go Hyeontak

Gotak is relatively laid back and nonchalant when he has a crush on someone. Not in an uninterested way, but in a way that shows he’ll be fine whether his crush likes him back or not. He’s not scared of rejection. Every so often, he’ll show off some of his taekwondo moves to impress them, even going as far as to teach them a few moves. He’s playful and relaxed with his crush. They’d love that he’s a breath of fresh air that isn’t easily intimidated.

A/N: I’m not gonna lie, I’m lowkey biased. Sieun is my favorite character out of them. And I had some struggles with Beomseok 😩😩 his character pisses me off so bad, but I know some people would still appreciate his appearance every now and again — despite my seething resentment ಠ_ಠ

~ Also I’ll be opening my requests up next week I’m excited to see what ideas you guys have for me.

— Ash <3

#weak hero #weak hero class one #weak hero x reader #weak hero manhwa #weak hero webtoon #yeon sieun #ahn suho #oh beomseok #park humin #seo juntae #go hyeontak #headcanon

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unluckilyimnot · 4 months ago

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slow morning w/ sae, rin, hiori, kaiser

note: Omori's Kel mentioned, pet name 'love' used with Hiori. After some time writing for them, i thought i'll get back to it with something cute. i just read the chapters i missed, i'm in a huge bllk brainrot again

m.list | rules

Sae

It rarely happens, Sae staying in bed after 7 in the morning – that's usually the later he can handle. So when you feel his arms wrapped around you again after you roll to the other side, leaving him space to get up slowly after you feel him switch, there's a warm feeling spreading through your body. You turn around, nesting your head on the crock of his neck with small, bubbling sounds that make his heart soften every time. He holds you closer, if possible, and you swear if you could you'll start purring the second his fingers go through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly without touching any sensible era. You feel your mind drifting away slowly again, but you don't resist it. Instead you enjoy his soft attention until you fall asleep again.

When you wake up, Sae's sitting on the edge of the bed by your side. His hand goes kindly through your hair again, but this time he's fully dressed and you can smell coffee on his hand when it brushes your cheek.

"Breakfast's ready," he said rather blankly but you perceive the softness in his eyes. You rub against his hand.

"What time is it ?"

"Around 9 and a half ." There's no way on earth he's waiting this long.

"You've eaten already?"

"No." You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart skipping a beat. He really waited for you.

So got up quickly, putting on some shorts and one of his sweaters he kindly handed you before following him to the living room. Breakfast is settled on the low table in front of the TV playing whatever kid shows aired at that time. On the rare morning and breakfast you share with Sae, it is an obligation to watch this – that helps him clear his mind, he says, since he doesn't have to think.

You sit next to him and pull your tray on his tights, wandering around it a little before eating some rice first. You could find all the things you liked, along with some rice because he'll never put that away.

Keeping only your cup of coffee after being done with most of the food on the tray, you put it back to the table and lay on his shoulder, enjoying the small contact the best. Enjoying this whole morning at its fair value, because you had no idea when this would happen again.

Kaiser

"We have to get up," Michael said seriously for like, the fifth time, but you still wouldn't get up from your lying state on top of his body. He's so warm and cuddly, how could he ask you that ?

"Not yet," you mumble, face down in his chest.

"It's literally 11," he objected, desperate to just get up and get, at least, his running routine done today. "Don't 'no yet' me. I have things to do."

Without any warnings, he tossed you to the side and went straight to the window, opening the shutters. You shouted at him not to, but it was too late and when he looked back at you again, you were now just a ball below the cover, whining at the "holy light". He held his laugh, he couldn't let you know how cute and funny you were while doing this when he was, supposedly, mad at you. But God he loved it.

Without any further goals in this room, he left for the kitchen and started making your breakfast for you until you were ready to face the sunlight. It never took you too long, so he wasn't worried. He took his time, putting coffee on the heat stove until it was ready, preparing both your salty and sweet parts of it along his, despite not eating the same things. Before he was even done, your arms were already wrapped around his waist, still whining at the light burning your eyes.

He really liked it, morning like this. It was dear to his heart, sweet moments with you that was worth putting his career aside for a day. He was scared he got too used to it, scared this could vanish but, still, he couldn't imagine a world without you anymore.

Hiori

On his resting days, Hiori likes to lay in bed longer than he should. He becomes one with the blanket, looking more like a giant worm than your boyfriend. You know he'd die to have you stuck in his arms until he's fully awake, which you don't mind most of the time, but the rare time you're awake before him it's a living nightmare not being able to simply turn around and take your phone to wait. So you flee away from the bed without making any noises, getting dressed in the living room so you can be the one, for once, making breakfast.

You took your time, leaving him to enjoy his day off a little longer but you still couldn't let him sleep all day – he'll be mad at himself. Preparing it all, you cracked some eggs and let them cook before moving to toast some bread and cut avocados. You make sure to not boil the water for his tea, preparing it last in fact to be sure he has it while it's still fuming like he likes.

It was almost done when his arms held you from behind, his head laying on top of yours. You turned the kettle on, his cup only waiting for the warm water.

"Are you ok with avocado toast ? We still had two that were done. It didn't want to waste them," you started but your rumble fell into deaf ears when his lips began drawing patterns along your neck, straight to your shoulder, making you giggle.

"That's perfect," he answered, purring in your ear when his face rested on your shoulder, looking down at the pretty plate you just made. "Thank you, love."

You can't help but look away, even if he can't really see you. You pull him with you when you move, since he's glued to your back now it seems. You pour his drink, and proceed to ask him where he wants to eat ; you're not surprised when he murmurs in front of the let's play you two started not so long ago.

"You put this on and I bring it all there ?" you proposed cheerfully. He lets you go with a grunt, kissing your head quickly before leaving with you on his tracks with two cups. He already saw it, but he loves the story so much he wanted to share it with you. You actually liked it a lot, it was easy to watch and the story was amazing. You two easily spend hours sitting in front of it.

"I'm so sad Kel loses his rock," you commented, your breakfast long forgotten and his arms holding you close.

"Yeah, I was too the first time," he grinned, kissing your head again. "Don't worry, he'll get over it though."

You nod, believing him.

Rin

A slow morning with Rin is whatever he wants it to be, so if you ask anyone else, they would tell you that this has nothing to do with a slow morning. He wakes up early, no matter how hard you try to keep him in bed with you – but you know you're getting better at it 'cause it's harder every time for him to say no. He takes a long shower, washing his hair thoughtfully and taking care of his skin. He spends a lot of time in the bathroom, between shaving and doing his skincare, before doing some meditation in the living room so he knows it won't bother your sleep.

By the time he's done, you're usually awake but still groggy, he has to be patient with you. You always fo for him, it doesn't matter if he's barely done or packing his appetite mattress, you'll always lay on him or grab him from behind with a tired hello.

You try to help him cook but you always end up sitting still, half sleeping on the table with a fuming cup of whatever you felt like having this morning ; of course he made it for you.

The thing is, Rin wants to be done with his routine before you wake up, that way he can let himself enjoy doing nothing in your company for a few hours without feeling bad or in a rush. He likes taking care of you, making things for you, it doesn't matter if you feel like it was too much. You have no idea how much you give him in return. Even if you were not fully awake, you always were the best company he could wish for. You talk about your weird dreams, bring back old situations to talk this out again even if he barely answers you sometimes.

"That was something for sure, what happened next ?" He asked, giving you your plate and sitting next to you with his, listening to your creepy dream.

It never gets boring, he always likes to listen to you talking nonsense in the morning.

"Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie," he commented.

"The beginning ?" you gasped, flabbergasted. "More like the most scary scene, please I felt so, so deranged."

By now you're fully awake and you start doing bigger gestures, give him dirty looks when he disagrees with you and he doesn't do everything he can so you don't see the way he smiles at you.

So no, his slow morning isn't what most people think it is. But simply having time to talk with you in the morning, without thinking of anything else, is his own definition.

Let me know if you liked it!

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock #bllk headcanons #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser fluff #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae fluff #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin fluff #hiori yo x reader #hiori x reader #hiori fluff

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