#raspberry x reader

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hi can we have a Bad sanses trying to raise kid Y/N

bad sanses (Nightmare, Dust, Fell, Horror, Error, and fellswap ((raspberry)) trying to raise Child!Reader

a/n: including a character I don’t normally write for (Raspberry) just for this one-shot because I don’t have to focus on him. his personality is difficult for me to write (and I can’t tell the difference between fellswap and swapfell)

also I wrote y/n about 10 years old.

this also… slightly diverges from canon. I’m kidding it’s super uncanon but this is fanfiction and I can do what I want :)

(tw for death threats, mentions of child death, swearing)

Ink and Dream made a decision to put Nightmare and his lackeys into. . . A rehabilitation, of sorts. Something to force them to be good, and learn responsibility.

They decided to do that by giving them a child.

Ink had saved them from Error’s path of destruction a while back before their truce, and could never find a permanent home for them. Up until now, that is.

the only time any of them had killed children was when they were killing massive amounts of people. They never went out of their way to kill a child, not even Fell or Nightmare.

so, this was probably a solid plan!

“absolutely not,” Nightmare had said. “No. It’s not happening! Don’t you give me that look, Dream, it won’t happen. Are you trying to get that kid killed? Come on.”

“it’s a necessary evil,” Ink chimed in. “To… unevil your evil, I guess.”

“besides, you don’t even have a choice. They’re already inside!” Dream said.

Nightmare flinched hard as a crash came from somewhere behind him, inside his castle, followed by incoherent swearing, probably from Fell, judging by the Brooklyn accent.

he looked, and saw nothing. It must’ve been in another room…

“I’ll talk to you later about this. I have to find out what the hell just happened.”

he turned away and slammed the door with his tentacles, while Ink and Dream created a portal to return home. They had no intentions of waiting for Nightmare to come back, because they knew what happened: Y/N.

Nightmare stormed through the castle, his pace quick as he tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

Nightmare entered his throne room to see, to his horror, that it had been turned over and there was a child atop it, while Horror, Fell, and Raspberry surrounded them in an attempt to get them off. Without hurting them, that is.

the child turned, and when they saw him, they immediately slid off the turned-over throne and began walking towards him.

“I'm guessing you’re Nightmare. Uncle Dream told me about you. I’m y/n!” The child stuck out their hand, supposedly for a handshake.

“uh… huh,” Nightmare ignored their attempt at politeness, desperate to get this kid out of his castle. It was probably futile, though. Ink would come up with some sort of plan to outsmart him and bring the child back. “Okay. Go over there, or something. I don’t really care. Fell, Horror, Raspberry, get your asses over here!”

everyone’s eyelights snapped to Nightmare. Even Fell’s, even though he appeared to have fallen asleep. The child returned to their original position on top of Nightmare’s throne, and he noticed that they had a suitcase with them, that they pulled a notebook and colored pencils out of. courtesy of Ink? probably.

meanwhile, the Sanses that were in the room gathered around Nightmare.

“why in gods name is there a CHILD in our castle?” Raspberry questioned.

“Dream and Ink said we needed ‘rehabilitating’ to ‘unevil our evil’, whatever the hell that means,” Nightmare said.

“heh, they can have fun tryin’,” Fell said. Nightmare nodded.

“but we need something to do with this child. i doubt my brother will be keen on taking them back so soon,” he said.

“we could-“ Horror began.

“NO!” the other three snapped in unison. Nightmare pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“we are not making them into a head dog, Horror. the idea is out of the question,” his tone was slightly calmer this time. Horror’s face sank and he stepped back, slightly behind the others. the child, unbeknownst to Raspberry, Horror and Fell, but visible to Nightmare (as he was facing them) was clearly very sad about the way Horror was being treated. they silently vowed to advocate for him, to make sure he was being treated with proper respect.

“so, what exactly are we plannin’ on doin’?” Fell asked.

“i suppose we will have to care for them until we can find a more permanent solution. we cannot simply drop them into some universe; there would be too many questions. we do not have any proper identification for them or anything else of the sort. when asked where they came from, what would they say? that the Star Sanses have been raising them since Error destroyed their universe? nobody would believe them.”

“with all due respect, Nightmare,” Raspberry said. “that is exactly why it’s a perfect plan. we wouldn’t have to do anything. they could either lie and say they didn’t know, or they could tell the truth and just be seen as a child with an overactive imagination.”

“perhaps, but the risk is simply too great. besides, Blueberry is very active in the ‘policing’ of universes. he would likely be aware of it before we could even leave the universe we drop them into.”

“so, we ain’t got another choice?” Fell asked. “we gotta keep em?”

“yes, Fell. i’m afraid we do,” said Nightmare. Raspberry groaned.

*~* there was a shriek. Error burst into the throne room a few moments later.

“why is there a KID in the hallway?” he half yelled. Nightmare chuckled.

“Aww, are you afraid of a child?” he teased. Error growled, and Nightmare sighed, his face changing from amusement to annoyance. "go tell them to go back to their room. escort them yourself if they cannot find it again."

"but that doesn't explain why they're here." the glitching in his voice, not very prevalent at first, became more noticeable as he got angrier.

Nightmare explained the situation as Error got tenser and tenser. he knew Dream and Ink were extreme, but come on, they know that everyone in this castle has killed before with no remorse, right? That any one of them could kill that child with no hesitation? Error had bickered with Nightmare in an attempt to find some logical reason as to why they should send y/n back, but Nightmare shut each argument down.

both skeleton's voices were beginning to rise when Horror broke into the room. "what do you feed a human?" his voice was calm, in stark contrast to how frantically he slammed the door and how he was out of breath, as though he was running to get an answer, and the emotion on his face matched his name.

Nightmare needed the day off. he thought. honestly, the things he has to deal with! he groaned. "a fucking burger or something. i don't know! i'm not a damn expert on humans!" Horror nodded and left, closing the doors behind him.

"as i was saying-" Nightmare was interrupted again by Horror slamming open the doors again.

"what do humans drink?" Horror asked. Nightmare rolled his eyes.

"water, you imbecile, water! now don't interrupt me again!" Nightmare yelled. Horror nodded his head and left again. Nightmare turned his head back to Error. "we are not getting rid of the human. this is final."

Error lowered his fine. "as you wish," he said as he left the throne room Nightmare sighed. what was he supposed to do?

*~*

"c'mon, kid, come here! you look like free xp," Dust said. the human knew what 'xp' meant.

"hey, what the hell are ya thinkin'? the boss'll turn you into xp if you hurt that kid!" Fell says from behind Dust.

dust turned to face Fell. "you're kidding me, right? you're trying to tell me that he wants a human kid around?"

"no, i'm not kiddin'." Fell sighs. "Dream 'n Ink dropped 'em off this mornin'. somethin' about 'teaching us to be good'. i think it's a whole lotta bull, but the boss doesn't want 'em harmed."

Dust rolled his eye sockets, and turned back to the kid. “alright, i’ll spare ya for now, but if you act up i won’t be so merciful. got it?”

“got it,” the kid said. surprisingly, they weren’t afraid of Dust… or at least they were good at hiding it if they were.

Dust went to his room. Fell turned to leave, too, but stopped to say, “hey, don’t worry about him. he wouldn’t dare go against the boss’s orders. you’ll be safe here, okay? so long as you don’t fuck up too bad.” his tone was filled with a surprising amount of kindness and empathy. the child nodded.

“i know. Uncle Dream and Uncle Ink told me before they dropped me off,” they said.

Fell nodded. “you probably oughta go to your room now, before you piss somebody off. but before you do that, i’ve got a couple words of advice.”

the kids eyes focused on him as they listened.

“when Horror has his axe, don’t go anywhere near him. don’t even let him see you. and if Dust is talking to himself, he’s actually talking to his brother. whether his brother is a spirit that only he can see or a hallucination isn’t entirely clear. and don’t touch Error, he won’t hesitate to kill you. but out of everybody here, Raspberry has the worst temper. best to stay on his good side. got it?”

“yep! thanks!”

Fell nodded again. “i’ll see ya tomorrow.”

then he left.

*~* why the hell was Nightmare yelling? y/n listened in to the conversation going on in the throne room. they couldn’t make out exact words, but Nightmare was yelling, presumable at Horror.

“hey!” they burst in the room, Nightmare, Horror, and Raspberry’s eyes snapped to them. “leave him alone! if you have a problem, TALK IT OUT! yelling doesn’t solve any problems.”

Nightmare sat stunned for a moment. his expression turned angry, but he refrained from doing anything. however, his tone was aggressive when he said, “do not EVER interrupt me again, do you understand me? do not burst into my throne room, and do not speak to me in such a disrespectful manner.”

y/n stood their ground, keeping their head held high with confidence and determination.

“don’t talk to him like that, and we won’t have a problem.”

Nightmare appeared to get angrier, before calming again. “you have confidence. i like that.”

y/n looked past Nightmare to see Raspberry appearing not to care, and Horror, who had a grateful expression.

“i stand up for what’s right,” they said.

“that, however, won’t fly here. now get out!”

y/n nodded and left the throne room, but they stood outside and listened. Nightmares tone was calmer, although still muffled through the door.

they had already started to make a difference here.

how long would it take to fix the gang? who knows.

but they were patient.

they would bring the light into this dark castle.

(sorry this is just a bunch of scenes thrown together lol. i might write more for this later, just to show the skellies character development. i love you all and im sorry this took so long to release)

[inferencesarchives]

hello! can I request gossiping with each other for raspberry cookie? oh and I hope ur doing well c:

"What Happens Next?!"

raspberry x gn reader

prompt: gossiping with them

warnsings: i don't think there's anything but lmk if i missed smth

doing hcs for this one since writer's block won't let me think of a way to start the scenario >:((

anyways

this girl knows about ALL the drama. all of it.

the two of you have a scheduled gossiping hour at 1 pm every wednesday. she constantly looks forward to sharing the recent local drama with you

she always gets super invested in the gossip too. she gasps whenever an unexpected turn of events happens and smirks whenever something interesting occurs

she enjoys whispering the most interesting parts in your ear and watching your reaction

^she also whispers if the subject(s) of the gossip is/are nearby because she doesn't want to get caught talking about them lmao

she sometimes likes to exaggerate some of the gossip so that it sounds more dramatic and intriguing. she doesn't exaggerate to the point where it's completely different from what actually happened, but she exaggerates it enough so that the story is more interesting than before

she's very expressive when sharing gossip with you. she constantly shifts her facial expressions and does dramatic hand gestures to really emphasize different parts of the story she's telling you

a/n: hfbfbdndnsm this is way shorter than i would've liked it to be and i wish it was a scenario instead but brain said no,,, hope this is still ok tho

thanks for stopping by!

wanna submit a request? see my requesting rules here.

taglist:

wanna be tagged? lemme know.

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ intoxication, sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking, blurry lines of consent.

You’re painfully unaware, though to you, he’s sure it's bliss. 

In your own little world, you stand at the long wooden table, fingers moving across the trackpad of a laptop, a pair of too big glasses sliding down your nose. The left lens is smudged, the smear only getting worse every time you push them up with the back of your hand. There’s a whirlwind of stuff around you, bowls and bags and measuring cups, cracked egg shells and sprinkles scattered across the wood, multi colored icing separated into different containers, and you're so into your work you don't even realize he's in the doorway. 

He almost feels bad for scaring you when he clears his throat. Almost. 

“Oh my god,” you whirl, hand pressed to your chest, half ready to bolt. “S-sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were there.” 

Is that anyway to say hi to your daddy sweetheart?

“Good morning.” He eyes the twenty four ounce mason jar to your left. It’s one quarter full, coffee and cream swirling to the bottom. Too much caffeine. 

“Good morning, hi.” You smile, sweet and shy but more emboldened. It’s been a few days since he fed you bites of lemon meringue pie, a few days since he went home and stroked his cock to the memory of your mouth parting for him, eyes half lidded looking up through your lashes. 

Since then, you’ve a bit more brave, encouraged by his careful coaxing, text messages at night and throughout the day to check in, visits in the morning as he heads to base. 

He’s leading his little lamb right into her shepherd’s arms. 

“What’re you working on?” 

“Funfetti birthday cake.” You slide your glasses back up your face. They’re a mess and he can’t resist fixing it, pulling them off, wiping the lenses with bottom of his shirt. You freeze. Little deer in his headlights. 

“Didn’t know you wore glasses.” He places them back where they belong, righting them when they slip, and confirming what he already knew. They’re too big. You need new ones. 

“Th-thank you. I do for reading. And… er, screens. Reading on screens, mostly, though I need them for books too so I guess just… reading in general.” He understands the pause now, the moments when you’ve become self conscious, embarrassed, or you’re looking for the words you need, anxiously trying to piece it all together, step into a skin that doesn't quite fit. 

A rhythm the world doesn't understand. Too cruel, impatient, cold, it has no care for fragile things, too easily reflecting a mirror of his former self. 

He files the bit about you needing to wear glasses when you read, another notation in the long list he’s already memorized, organized, and moves onto his next inquiry. “Who’s the birthday cake for?” 

“Mara. It’s her birthday. They’re…” you make a face like you’ve sniffed spoiled milk, “we’re going out to a pub to celebrate.” He stiffens. On one hand, he’s proud of you. On the other, the idea of you in a pub raises the hair on the back of his neck, has him a bit out of his mind. 

He’s not interested in clipping your wings, but going out to a pub with no one to watch over you? Not bloody likely. “Tonight?” 

“Mhm.” You’re rubbing a stick of butter in a round pan. “Funfetti is the classic birthday cake. You know, the vanilla cake with the sprinkles?” He shakes his head. “Oh. Well, um, it is. It's mostly a kid thing now, but I think it's the ultimate birthday cake. Birthdays are supposed to be fun but you know... they kind of suck when you're an adult. Anyway... funfetti is fun so, that's why...” 

“Maybe you can save me a slice. Where are you going?” 

“Save you…" your brows crease as you try to process what he's said. "Doc’s.” You’ve dropped the stick of butter abruptly, greasy fingers gripping the edge of the pan. Doc’s. It’s a younger crowd, a bit posh, but still a bit dark. Has a bit of an edge. 

It’s been a few weeks since he’s gotten a pint with Kyle and Johnny anyway. 

He smiles, strokes the backs of his knuckles down your cheek, satisfied when you lean in for more, disappointed the few minutes he had to drop in are now over. “I’ve gotta go baby, be good for me.” Your mouth drops open so wide he thinks he might be able to fit his cock in it. 

“Oh, okay. I- I will.” 

What did you forget?

Daddy. I will, daddy.

“That ‘er?” Kyle motions with his beer bottle towards the table where you stand nervously at the edge, floral flecked dress swaying just above your knees. You've looped a white ribbon through your hair, the beacon of a gentle soul that seems to be calling out to every muppet in the building, every wandering eye fueling a fire burning in his blood. 

“Yeah.” His stomach is sour. Even a neat pour of whiskey and pint didn’t settle him. 

You’re trying so hard. Smiling and nodding and listening to everyone, clutching your drink like it’s a lifeline. Mara seems to understand the grace you need, but no one else in the group gets it, and some of them give you weird looks, or worse, look at each other when you’re not paying attention in annoyance. Your only friend at the table catches a few of them and shoots stern glares as she shakes her head, but it doesn’t change much. 

“She looks uncomfortable,” Johnny grunts, his scrupulous eye never missing a thing. Someone asks you a question, and you stumble over your answer, looking away to the wall when a girl to your left blatantly smirks, and then sneers directly in your face. Simon’s blood boils. 

“She’s different from them, it’s hard for her.” It's the easiest way to explain it. You’re one in a million. His one in a million. 

The table laughs at something, and you frantically flick over each person’s face, trying to pick up on a joke you clearly did not understand. Eventually, you just settle for another smile, resigned to watch it all from the outside as conversation flows from person to person, but never towards you. 

Sweet girl. He wants to take you home where you’re safe and happy and carefree, where you can be yourself and not have to worry about trying to keep up or facing everyone’s judgement. Where he can hold your perfect and precious heart in his hand and protect it. Where he can fuck the memory of this night right out of you, bounce you on his cock until the only thing you know how to do is come for him, over and over again. 

He misses the exact moment the cake appears among the stacks of shot glasses. Your anxiety ramps up as everyone starts to eat their slices, shoulders high beneath your ears, fingers knotted together too tight. It’s an eternity before the first person looks at you, mouth half full and thrilled, their enthusiasm alleviating some of the weight that's been sitting on his chest, and yours. Whatever they say seems to lessen the weight because you’re smiling again, excited, and as more people turn your way, the smile turns to a full on beam, your words from the other night echoing in his ears. 

I like feeding people. 

Another hour passes before he decides to call it, the group now spread across the pub, scattered around different tables, at the bar, outside smoking. You’re in a corner with your back to the room talking to Mara, and when he appears in her line of sight, she spots him immediately, grabbing your arm, mouthing something he doesn’t catch. 

You turn- 

And light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

“Captain Riley!” The alcohol has made you bold, slow synapses firing less rapidly, providing a longer lead time, somewhat preventing you from second guessing or withholding yourself. 

“Hi baby.”

“I’m just gonna…” Mara tries to move away but you reach for her. 

“Happy Birthday Mar. Thanks for inviting,” you hiccup, “me.” She gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks for coming, and for the cake, it was amazing. Made me feel like I was kid, ya know? When birthdays really mattered.” Sadness flickers in her eyes, and then disappears in a glaze of intoxication. “Anyway, see you Monday?” 

“Yep.” She gives you one more hug before slipping away, and you sigh. 

“She loved her cake.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You’ve got this dreamy look on your face, sleepy and sweet, a little kitten who’s ready to curl up for a nap. 

Cast a line. See if you’re biting. 

“How’re you gettin’ home?” 

“An uber?” You lick your lips. “Or… uh. A Lyft?” You lurch to the side and he darts forward to steady you, movement too fast for you to track, all of it ending up as a surprise, like you weren’t even in your body for a moment. “Th-thanks.” You study his hand, where it sits on your arm. “You know you’re so big?” His lips twitch to the side of his mouth. 

“Yeah sweetheart. I’m big.” You’re still staring at his hand. “D’you need a ride home?” 

“Huh?” He's held this in the back of his mind all night as a possibility, built a tentative plan for this opportunity too golden to pass up. No fucking way are you going home in a rideshare or with anyone else. 

“I’m taking you home.” You shrug at the declaration with little trepidation and take his hand. 

So sweet and full of trust. 

He never specified which home. 

When the gravel of his driveway crunches under the truck’s tires, you don’t stir, and you don’t wake up when he turns it off or opens the passenger side door, your head lolling against your shoulder. 

“Sweetheart,” He keeps his voice low, reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt, brushing against your breasts, soft exhales puffing little clouds across his skin. “We’re here.”��

“Hmm?” you crack an eye open and then shake your head, “no ‘m sleeping.” Your cheek is warm in his palm, and he kisses it, trying to rouse you, gauge your reaction. Your awareness. Your nose wrinkles. “Stop.” 

“C’mon, you'll be more comfortable inside.” You whimper when he jostles you, pinning a palm to your temple. 

“My head hurts.” Poor baby. 

“I know,” he pulls you up out of the seat and into his chest, carefully supporting your balance. He’s taking liberties now, wrapping an arm around your waist, curling his fingers along the nape of your neck, brushing his lips across your forehead when you whine, high pitched and crackled, broken under the weight of too much alcohol and need for more sleep. “I know baby, Let’s get you into bed.” You lay your cheek on his chest and sigh. 

“Okay.” 

“Spit.” He holds the cup under your lips and you do as he asks diligently, bubbly white toothpaste getting caught on the corner of your mouth. 

Getting you upstairs and into his room went just as he anticipated. A little anxiety, a little uncertainty, all of it gently soothed until you were sitting on his bed and he was taking off your shoes, reassuring you, promising everything was okay and you were right where you belonged. 

“You’re safe with me sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.” 

Now, you’re perched on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom as he finishes brushing your teeth, sleepy and serene, naked thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt. 

You’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, another layer peeled back, another piece he lays claim to. 

His sweet little fawn. 

He knew all along this was underneath the weight you carried. That when you finally felt safe and cherished and cared for, you’d bloom, be yourself without the pressure of everything else. Deep down, beneath the expectations of how everyone thinks you should talk, or act, or behave, behind all the coping mechanisms you’ve taught yourself, buried under mountains of complexity, is his precious little girl who needs her hand held and her tears wiped. Who’s brilliant and beautiful and different, and has never had the space to just be. 

Now, you'll be able to do just that while he takes care of the rest. He'll decide. You’ll have boundaries. You’ll have rules. You’ll have daddy and he’ll take away the endless pressure that closes in on you from all sides, he'll ensure you get what you need. There will be less worry, less fear and unlimited opportunities to be. 

“My face.” You tilt your chin back with your eyes closed, and he chuckles. 

“What about it?” 

“My,” hiccup, “makeup.” He turns the tap on warm, testing the temp until he’s satisfied, and soaks a washcloth. 

“Keep your eyes closed.” You sit still as he works, dabbing away everything on your eyelids and lashes, wiping underneath to catch anything he missed. “There we go.” You sway in his grip and slur.

“Bed now?” 

“Last thing.” There’s a glass of water and naproxen on the counter, and you swallow them without question. He hides his grimace. That will need to be addressed in the morning. When you try to put the glass back on the counter, he shakes his head. “All of it,” you manage to get the rest of the water down, and he squeezes your hip. “That’s my girl.” 

“You’re warm.” Your arm is slung over his middle, a cold foot tucked between his knees, mouth half open on his pillow. Completely uninhibited, nearly asleep. 

His cock is hard against his stomach beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, aching with a fullness he can’t relieve. He’s been hard since he undressed you, peeled your bra off and held you to his chest as he unhooked it, felt your perfect, pretty breasts and nipples against him as he tugged his shirt over your head. You were bashful, buried your face into his neck with a trembling giggle, but refused to let go, sunk your fingernails into his biceps as your hands shook. His sweet, shy girl. 

He rubs your back, works his fingers in the knots between your shoulders, watching your lashes flutter as you try to fight sleep.  

“Tomorrow…” There’s a last minute flash of uncertainty, and he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“It’s okay, we’ll talk at breakfast sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Tomorrow. You'll be fighting a battle tomorrow, a hangover, anxiety, an endless spiral of confusion and doubt, but he'll be here to guide you through it. 

The only way out is through. 

It will be a lot easier on both of you if you're able to get some sleep. 

“Yeah, ’s past my bedtime.” You whisper with a hazy, playful smile on the wisp of a giggle. "We should have pancakes for breakfast." Your easy, peaceful state encourages him to go a step further. Cast a line, see if you’re biting. 

"If you close your eyes and go to sleep, Daddy will make you pancakes in the morning." You nod with a yawn, tucking your face between the pillow and his shoulder. 

"Mmkay then. Night." It's not a protest, it's not a flinch, it's not a moment of disgust, and satisfaction roars, rips through him like bullet, this instinct and desire long honed finally settling in the place where it belongs. In you. 

"Goodnight baby." He stares at the ceiling as you disappear into dreams and plans his mission. Plots his checkpoints, sets his objectives. Lead, decide, control. 

Bring you home. Permanently. 

[raspberryandechinacea]

So, about that indulgent thing, it's 2am gonna wake up in around 6 hours so i'mma post it.

Imagine Ghost who doesn't want you to do things. Shave? No problem, he is gonna do it for you, and be extra gentle, holding your legs/your face as if they are made of glass. Dye your hair? Just give him the hairdye and he is gonna be so precise and not even skip a hair. (Except cutting your hair because he is to afraid to cut it wrong, but he'll pay for the hair stylist)

Make up? His hands are so steady, your eyeliner will always be even and on flick and no, you will never do it as precise as he does.

And that's it, I needed something fluffy and silly to cheer myself up. Byeeeee!

[tomasweetheart]

“Oh, you are nasty,” Iwaizumi almost seethes, his eyes following the condensation on the plastic bottle while it drips down the side, “grape flavored water?!”

His words catch you off guard, lowering the bottle with a confused look on your face before your eyebrows furrow together more, “Yes, Hajime, grape flavored water,” you respond with an eye roll, “is there a problem with me hydrating myself after our run?”

“You know there’s perfectly good, normal water in the fridge too, right?” he scoffs, he’s still in disbelief. And it’s not because you’re drinking flavored water, more so because of the flavor of water you chose.

Oh. Now you get it.

“I’m aware of that yes,” you hum, a shit eating grin beginning to form on your face, “but I’m also aware that there’s a whole pack of flavored waters that will be left untouched if I do not drink them, because you can’t help a good deal at the grocery store.”

“I would drink them if they were any other flavor!” he protested quickly with a slight pout of his own.

“Oh, you are such a liar,” you rebuttal quickly, “name one flavor you enjoy, because I can name about six right now that you don’t.” 

“I like…” he thinks for a moment, sucking on his teeth while he roams his brain for an answer, “...I, uh…blue raspberry."

You two have had this argument over and over again. Ever since you were teenagers, Iwaizumi has had a certain distaste for actual fruit flavored things. You’d think an athlete would actually prefer the artificial flavors that at least taste like healthy food, but no.

“Not a water flavor,” you hum cockily, crossing your arms over your chest, “and blue raspberry is nastier than grape by a mile.”

“You are a sick, twisted individual,” he scoffs, waving his finger at you in playful disappointment, “I am ashamed of myself for letting you get into my pants, let alone my heart for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh hush,” you hum amusedly, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck to pull his body flush against yours, “you said for better or for worse.”

“Mm, I also said in sickness and in health,” he responds with his own hum, his arms wrapping around your waist on instinct, “and you are definitely sick in the head for liking flavored water.”

His nose brushes against your own softly for a moment before he connects your lips with his in a tender kiss. A soft groan leaves his throat, unable to stop himself from running his hands along your sides as he deepens the kiss. Before he pulls away with an absolutely disgusted look on his face.

“What…?” you ask innocently through bated breath, with a soft giggle and smile.

“...You taste like grape.”

[gummyisland39]

Sugarfly cookie gets her wings back❤️

[yeosin-n]

Omg ur so wonderful!!! I was wondering if we could give horror some chocolate? (And if he's up for it maybe even a hug... Or a kiss) please? I love ur stuff btw!!!!

I ALMOST FORGOT HOW HOT HORROR IS he’s so fun to draw

[dreamyblanket]

Hi,, could you pretty please do Raspberry Cookie and Y/N?

Just because you asked soooo nicely ^^

[brittle-doughie]

Hello Brittle-doughie! If you don't mind me asking, what kind of kisses would Raspberry Cookie give?

“Are you unfamiliar with kisses, my love? I can teach you as well…~”

I’d like to imagine that she’s an utter gentlewoman that would give you hand kisses, cheek kisses, or even kisses to your temple.

Of course, she’ll oblige full on kisses if you ask her, why should she leave you hanging when she can give her darling smooches all over you! In private.

[kaechu1]

Pavlova cookie: hmm you might not show it, but you have deep feelings for.... hollyberry cookie!!

raspberry cookie: what??

wildberry: ...

y/n cookie: guys i don't know what he's talking about...

hollyberry cookie: you have feelings for me-

y/n cookie: OMG EVERY COOKIE LOOK ANOTHER WAVE OF MONSTERS IS COMING!!

*said y/n cookie before start running away when everyone turns around. Pavlova cookie going to crumble for this*

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

still obsessed with the concept of picking fruits and berries with Foul Legacy. just this big Abyssal monster crouching in rows of bushes and delicately plucking raspberries or blueberries from their stems, holding them out to you for approval and chittering happily.

you pretend not to see when he sneaks one or two, popping them into his mouth and hastily munching- you're guilty of the same, perhaps even more than him. but there are plenty of berries by the time the sun is setting, sitting next to Legacy in the shade of an old oak tree, trading fruit back and forth with laughter and rumbling purrs.

the sky turns from amber to pink to blue, and all the stars twinkle in Legacy's gauzy wings.

[lovesickletters]

💜𝒞𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℋℯ𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃ℴ𝓃𝓈 － ℋℴ𝓁𝓁𝓎𝒷ℯ𝓇𝓇𝓎， ℛ𝒶𝓈𝒷ℯ𝓇𝓇𝓎💜

Hollyberry Cookie

There is a nonzero chance that you might not survive the experience. Pulls you so tightly up against her chest that you can barely breathe, and any attempt to let her know (gently or otherwise) would be efficiently smothered by her embrace. She means well, but tends to forget not everyone is built of the same stuff she is, and occasionally even so much as a pat on the back dislocates your spine. This is only exacerbated when she’s had a little too much to drink into a truly bone-shattering experience. On the plus side she tells wonderful stories about her adventures while you’re cuddling in bed.

Raspberry Cookie

She’s so incredibly proper about it, if you let her know you wanted to cuddle with her she’d scoop you up bridal style and bring you over to the Cuddling Chaise Lounge™️, equipped with a lovely fluffy blanket and a side table with drinks to keep you hydrated. A 5 star worthy pampering, holding you with just the right amount of care and cupping your face ever so lovingly. God help you if you ever imply that it’s anything less than perfect, even inferring it by accident. She will go into a FERVOUR trying to improve it, insisting you do daily training together to optimise the experience.

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: daddy kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm.

“I don’t… I don’t know. This is stressing me out.” 

The box in front of you is labeled ‘kitchen’ and you’re staring at it like there’s a bomb inside. 

“Good job with your rule baby. What don’t you know?” 

“This… the appliances, and the bowls, and everything… where do I put it? I don’t want to move your stuff and I don’t want to take up too much space I…” His hands cover yours, thumbs moving in methodical circles across your skin. You’re overwhelmed. You’ve been on the brink all day, dialed down after he took over packing up your apartment, now ramping back up as you try to unpack it and put it away. It’s been a lot, all day, and you’ve taken it on the chin. He’s proud of you.

“Would it help if I did it?” Your lower lip trembles, and you nod. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“Okay.” He kisses your forehead, wiping away one of the fat tears falling down your cheek. “It’s alright. Go upstairs, get in the bath, and relax. I’ll take care of everything that’s left.” You already did your clothes and personal items, things brought over from your bedroom and closets, but the rest of it is too much. You’ve deliberated everything, and he’s happy you’re making his house your home, but you’re getting tired, and anxious. “It’s okay, go on baby.” You sniffle, turning in his arms to rest your cheek on his chest with a sigh. 

“Thank you daddy.” 

“You did a good job today.” You shake your head. 

“I didn’t finish.” You press closer to his side, leg hitched up across his thighs. 

“But you told me when you were stressed and trusted me to take care of the rest. It’s okay if you need my help, you just have to tell me, which you did. I’m very proud of you.” He rubs your back, your hip, kneading as he goes, slowly moving down between your legs, feather light touch ghosting over your panties. He’s been doing it for twenty minutes, teasing you, working you up, and when he finally presses his thumb over your cloth covered clit and you gasp.

“Daddy…” 

“Are you wet for me?” He turns you on your back, peeling your underwear down and off so he can spread your knees open. You’re fully exposed like this, little clit swollen and hard, pussy soaked and glistening, squirming as he studies you. “Oh baby. Look at you.” You throw your arm over your face, trying to hide in your elbow and he chuckles. “Why are you embarrassed?” 

“You’re looking at my… at me.” 

“At your what, sweetheart. Tell me what I’m looking at.” You drop your arm and stare at him with wide eyes. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Yes daddy. P-please.” You shake a little, hesitant, nervous, and he rubs your leg encouragingly. 

“You have to say where.” It’s a coaching game. He pushes you step by step, always there, always urging you forward, proud again and again when you rise to whatever challenge he’s posing.

“My… my pussy.” 

“Good girl.” He presses down on your clit, sliding two fingers inside you at the same time, drinking in your gasps and moans. He’s thoroughly enjoying taking things slow, working you up to your first time, soaking up every single moment, every single orgasm along the way. 

But tonight, he’s going to push some boundaries. 

“Your little pussy is so greedy, baby girl. Should daddy make you come?” You lick your lips and nod quickly.  “What do you say?” 

Please daddy, make me unf-  make me c-come, please,” you clench, naturally trying to squeeze him, your body instinctively knowing what to do. Already so close. 

“What a good girl, asking so nicely.” He gives it to you, harder, faster, and your back arches, thighs locking around his arm, the sheets twisting in your grip. Your pussy tries to milk his fingers for something that’s not there, fluttering as you come for him.  

“Oh- Oh my god,” you’re still riding his hand as it ebbs, but when you come down, he doesn’t stop, even as you try to run up the bed and close your legs. 

“You’re going to have one more.” You shake your head frantically. 

“N-no, it’s… ow- ah- it hurts,” He pins you by your hip, preventing your escape, and you shriek. “D-daddy, please-” 

“I know it’s a lot, sweet girl I know. One more, you can do it.” One more orgasm, and one more finger. It’s an overload, and your foot kicks when he pulls back, just to push back inside you with three fingers, groaning at the sight of your tears. “Look at you,” he coos, pumping his cock, “daddy’s girl stretched around his fingers. Are you nice and full?” You groan, the overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes. 

“It’s t-too much,” you cry, but even as you protest, your rhythm changes from tense to chase. 

“You can take it,” he fucks you harder, flicking back and forth across your clit, and your knees fall open, wails turning to moans. “That’s it, good girl. Such a good girl, listening to her daddy.” He tugs his cock free, letting it settle at the top of your slit, ready to explode, and just before you’re falling over the edge, he pulls away to settle his length between your lips, rutting forward to grind his cock against you.

“Oh god-” You fuck yourself against him mindlessly, screaming into your orgasm, crying for your daddy as you rub your clit on the head of his cock, sliding up and down his length, soaking it. It’s enough friction to draw his balls up, more than enough heat to bring his own barreling down, and he shoots cum up your belly and his at the same time. 

He covers your body with his immediately. Both of you sticky and sated, his lips dragging over the skin of your neck, your cheek, your mouth as he calms you down. “My precious girl,” you turn into his voice instinctively, searching for him with closed eyes, limp and exhausted. “Did so well.” You nod your agreement, grip still iron on his t shirt, fully out of it. You’ve already been in the bath once today, but he knows you won’t protest a second. “I’m gonna get you some water and then we’ll take a bath, how does that sound?” You pull him close, hands on his shoulders, and press your nose to his neck. 

“Sounds good daddy.” 

“I have a surprise for you.” You blink at him. 

“For me?” 

“Turn around.” The front door is half closed behind his back, and he can tell you want to peek around it or ask more questions, but you choose to listen. Good girl.

“I’m ready.” You announce, bouncing on your toes with a little squeak, and he laughs, pushing the door wide to let the floppy, giant, Great Pyrenees puppy inside.

“Okay, turn around.” Making you happy will never get old, and he knows these memories, the ones where your face lights up and your joy explodes, will stay with him for the rest of his life. 

“Oh my god!” Your excitement floods out of you as a high pitched squeal, and you immediately go to your knees in front of the white fluff at his feet, the puppy’s big pink bow flopping on her neck. “Oh my god, oh my god. Is she… is she ours?”

“Yeah sweet girl, she’s ours. She’s for you, actually.” You scratch under her chin, cooing at the huge white puppy that could easily pass for a baby polar bear, even at five months. 

“Does she have a name?” 

“Duchess.” You clap your hands together. 

“Duchess. Aren’t you just the cutest girl? Yeah,” the dog licks your face appreciatively, and you giggle, “you are. You’re the cutest.” 

“She’s not cute.” She’s not supposed to be cute, anyway.

“Yes she is.” You give her another pat. He has a feeling you’re going to turn Duchess into a lap dog. A one hundred pound lap dog. He pulls you over to the couch, settles you in beside him as the dog paws at your feet and you giggle.  

“She’s a Great Pyrenees. She’s not a pet so much as she’s a guardian dog.” You frown, pout already forming your lips. It was a tough decision. He almost bought a Mal, but the idea of you having to take care of a real life velociraptor when he’s not here didn’t sit well with him. “She’s going to grow up with you as her best friend, so she’s going to see you as her flock, which means she’s going to make guarding you her main job.” Not outright aggressive or high strung, but protective and territorial, and big enough to intimidate just about anyone once she’s full grown, a Pyr is perfect.

“But she’s still a pet.” He sighs. 

“Yes. She’s still a pet. We’ll take care of her together when I’m home, but when I’m away, you’ll have to do it by yourself. Do you want that?” 

“Definitely.” Good. It’s a dual solution. He needs to feel more at ease with you being home alone, and you need some gentle encouragement. Taking care of a puppy is a lot like taking care of a human. They need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks, exercise. When he’s gone, you’ll be the primary caretaker, for both Duchess and yourself, and he thinks, he hopes, having her will help you take care of yourself. 

You also need food, water, enrichment. Naps. Walks. Exercise. 

“And she can sleep in the bed with me while you’re away!” 

“Well, we really need to teach her to sleep in her own bed…” 

“Sure daddy.” You ruffle the top of her head. “We’re going to be best friends, aren’t we girl?” She paws at you and you smush her face, dotting a kiss right between her brows. He sighs.

That dog is definitely going to be sleeping on his side of the bed. 

[raspberryandechinacea]

*taps mic* the category i-oh wait, not that.

Soooo, i was eating chicken wings in a restaurant and i got a silly idea, hope you like it.

Ghost enjoyed this place. Good cheap food, not too busy, low music, plenty of tvs with various sport matches and most important, people minding their own business. A good place to just chill and take a break.

And now he has found another reason to stay when he spots you, cute thing, just eating your chicken wings polished, leaving only clean bones on the plate, without a care in the world. It was the hottest thing he has ever seen.

Hell, he might even run to you and propose.

Well, thank @theorist-fox for enabling me and thanks chicken wings my beloved for the inspiration.

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Oh Lady, My Lady — Raspberry Cookie x GN Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖��ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

On the grounds of the Hollyberry Kingdom and in the gardens of Chateau Raspberry, the fragrant flowers surrounded by greenery shone brilliantly in the sun. Elegantly glazed hot pink hair was illuminated by the rays, a confident smirk in your vision as a candy cane striped blade crossed with your own. You grunted, trying to stand your ground against the heir to House Raspberry, clutching the hilt of your blade tightly.

Raspberry Cookie gave a well placed push. You dug your feet into cobblestone, briefly glancing behind you. The second you did, you felt your legs being sweeped, quickly sending you to the ground. You couldn't help but frown when hearing loud laughter from above. "That feels like a cheap shot" you mumbled to the heiress. "You know not to look behind you by now, I've taught you much better than that" Raspberry Cookie responded.

You looked up with a playful glare, but your dough heated up on the cheeks when seeing the Cookie above you. She was illuminated by golden hues, painted in a rose gold ring around her form. She was smiling confidently, looking down at you with eyes upturned in enjoyment. She chuckled good naturedly, extending a hand to you "Come on, let's get you cleaned up". You felt your thought process stutter, reaching your hand out and letting her help you stand.

She dusted off your outfit for you, fixing up the collar of your shirt. She wiped a bit of dirt off of your face as well. She began leading you to the Chateau, bringing you into the wide doors all dipped in deep pink. It was polished and clean within, exactly what you'd come to expect from House Raspberry. "Do you think a bath will help?" Raspberry Cookie asked you "You worked up a sweat out there". "That sounds nice" you grinned back.

Raspberry confidently led you past whoever was around, and you had to pick up the pace a little to keep up. She stopped when getting to the stairs, and you felt a twinge in your leg. You hissed a little in pain, rubbing the area. She turned around, frowning in concern. "Are you alright?" She asked, tilting her head to look "Did I hurt you?". "I think I'm okay" you mumbled, but Raspberry Cookie shook her head "No no, I'm sure this was a result of our last round. You hit the ground rather hard"

Before you could brush it off, you felt yourself being swept off of your feet. Raspberry had scooped you into her arms, holding you in a bridal-style carry against her chest. You felt yourself blush even more, feeling your cheek squished against the white puffy cravat she wore. You glanced up, meeting her kind burgundy eyes. "There we go, all set!" She said, starting up the winding stairs. "B-But my lady, I'm sure I-" you began, Raspberry cutting you off "I'm the one who did this, it's only fair that I make up for it!"

You let it go with a little nod, nervously leaning into the strong arms that were holding you up. Within moments you were in Raspberry's chambers, and she was gently setting you on the plush comfort of the mattress. She leaned down, analyzing your leg with a gentle grip. After a little prodding and rubbing, she leaned back "It's not broken, but you should stay off it for a while" she explained. She then went to the side of the bed, fixing a drink from a clean basin "I'll be your guard until then!". You chuckled at her resilience, accepting the cup and sipping from it "thank you, my lady"

"No problem at all, my knight" Raspberry replied, giving a deep bow. She began making her way to the bathroom, flitting in and out to set up towels, a new set of clothes, and turning on the bathtub faucet. You felt relaxed at the brought on pampering, smiling as the fencer came back into the room. "Your bath is ready, my knight" she said, stepping back up to try and lift you once more. You sat yourself up, sliding into her arms in a big embrace. You then stood straighter, pressing your foreheads together "Thank you, Raspberry" you said gently "Today was fun"

"I'm glad" Raspberry responded, gently pecking your cheek "We can resume when you're healed. For now, I order you to rest". "Of course, of course" you nodded, leaning back. Once she picked you back up again, you nestled to her more easily. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad, it was nice to have some help. And if it meant spending time with your lady, then that was all the better.

[hellshire-harlot]

Everytime a COD x Reader Author writes the Reader as explicitly neurodivergent an angel gets its wings