#okay its way past my bedtime | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cordeliawhohung · 3 months

Note

*taps mic*

shy!reader getting drunk with prices wife maybe i the club cuz its prices wife’s birthday? and then when simon arrives she’s giddy and all over him

this kind of turned into a drabble because i thought the idea was cute. however i am writing this past my bedtime so... enjoy :)

"come get your girlfriend."

those words hardly processed in Simon's mind no matter how many times he repeated them in his head. with a groan, he rubbed his eyes before he pulled his phone away from his ear to check the time. 1:07. the one time the man tried to go to bed early, of course he would get a phone call from his boss. he just didn't expect it to be about you.

"she alright?" Simon asked as he returned the phone to his ear.

"she's fine, just properly pissed at the moment. trying to get the wife home and it's like herding cats when those two are drunk," John sighed. a fit of laughter sounded on the end of his line, and even through the fuzziness and poor quality, Simon was able to pick out your giggles like it was his favorite song.

"i'll be there in ten."

Simon wasn't all too surprised to find you, John, and his wife holed up in one of the VIP rooms, and if anything he was a little relieved. the thought of you so exposed and not in your right mind around a bunch of strangers made him a little anxious, but he knew you wouldn't be caught dead in a situation like that. yet there you were, sitting in the conversation pit chatting away with your friend who wore some cheesy birthday girl sash and a dollar store crown to go with it. the way you talked and gestured was so... unlike you. it was more confident, less stiff and more fluid, like you didn't have a care in the world.

on the other hand, John looked like he was ten minutes away from falling asleep. his shirt was ruffled, and there were slight lipstick marks along the side of his chin. work of art from his wife, no doubt. Simon couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the mess that had been made, and he was just glad he wouldn't be expected to clean it up.

"hey sweetheart," he greeted as he stepped into the pit.

your eyes slowly flickered around the room until they landed on him. a glossy sort of drunkenness clouded your eyes and yet they shined just as bright when you grinned up at him.

"baby! you came to hang out with us?" you asked as you hopped off of the couch.

Simon watched you stumble toward him with arms ready to catch you, and not even a moment later you collided with his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. caught off guard but still pleased with your reaction, Simon chuckled as he settled his arms around you to return your drunken hug.

"i came to take you home. it's gettin' late," he explained.

"home? like to my place?' you asked.

Simon shrugged. "or you can stay the night with me, if you like."

"yes," you said, drawing out the last letter to the point you nearly sounded like a snake. "i like sleeping in your bed, it smells nice."

taken aback by your unfiltered comment, Simon couldn't help but smile and shake his head slightly. he rubbed your back in an attempt to coax you into relinquishing your grip on his torso, but you wouldn't budge.

"c'mon," he urged with a small chuckle, "let's get goin' yeah? it's late."

"but this feels nice," you retorted.

"i'll hug you all you like when we get home."

you hummed for quite some time as you swayed back and forth, forcing Simon into your movements. eventually you gave in and pulled away from him just enough to look up at him with a sleepy smile.

"okay. but you have to hold my hand when we walk out of here because i think i'll cry if i walk through that crowd," you relented.

John was right about one thing: getting you home really was like herding cats. you clung to him as if you were a parasite and you chatted away the entire ride back to his apartment, and though he was surprised it wasn't unwelcome. things got easier by the time he got you settled in bed. burrowing underneath the covers, you breathed in the musk of him and the faint hint of cigarettes as you hid your face in his chest.

"i love you," you mumbled as you settled further into him.

"i love you more," he countered.

"impossible."

#mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

1K notes · View notes

yonch · 3 months

Text

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

952 notes · View notes

revasserium · 3 months

Note

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

590 notes · View notes

grlpartdoll · 2 months

Text

Ok so the first post I made about famous!reader and bodyguard!Simon made me think about something interesting. How would Simon react to his lamb actually getting sick or being in a bad place? I am sick, so this is incredibly self indulgent, lol.

afab!reader, mdni with any of my work pls.

You sip quietly, watching through your lashes as Simon types something on his phone. It's late at night — one am. Way past the bedtime established by the man himself.

There's only one light on, and it's the one in the hallway. It illuminates only half of his face, highlighting a sharp jaw, a scarred brow and lip, a once (or twice) broken nose.

When you shift uncomfortably, he peers down at you again, his eyes immediately brought to you when you sputter a little, water refusing to go down.

"Doc's beeper is off." He announces, turning off his phone and bending his knees a little to lower himself to your height. As you slowly move your cup of warm water down on-top of your thighs, you cup your throat, a desolate frown on your face.

He motions for you to open your mouth, raising a hand to pinch your chin gently between his fingers. He looks at the state of your throat, at the cough drop you're using sitting idly behind your teeth.

He shakes his head. "Still inflamed."

You pout. Quietly, you try to speak, but he shoots you a look you know too well.

"Y'know the procedure, Bambi."

You give a glance at the camera crew stuck at the door. The rule that Simon had firmly introduced and stuck to ever since the documentary had begun filming between the walls of your home — no cameras in your room, and none at the door if it was closed. The only reason its open now is because your manager had scolded him about the documentary not containing enough raw footage of what it was like to live in your skin. All of its current footage was made up of carefully nitpicked moments Simon allowed people to witness and nothing else.

Even this, you know, is eating away at him.

And at you, too.

It's shameful, to pull out your rusty signing skills when there are cameras there. When it's just you and Simon, it's.. different. You know he doesn't judge.

His hand tightens around your jaw a little. Nothing painful. But it jostles you back to reality, bringing your gaze back to him.

"Focus o'me. Just you and me." He whispers. You hope the cameras don't pick it up. Maybe, if you're lucky, they won't have. Afterall, you don't have mics strapped on — the whole crew had been sitting in your kitchen eating when Simon called your name, noticing (or hearing?) you tiptoeing to the bathroom for a drink, and none of them had had time to get mics on anyone because of how quickly it had all happened. Or, well, it could also be because he slammed the bathroom door closed and then proceeded to corner you in the bathroom until you admitted you couldn't sleep because your throat was hurting. He only let the cameras film you after you'd confirmed ten times over that you were okay with them filming you.

You start to go through the words in your head, translating them into jerky movements of your hands. He nods as you sign "it doesn't hurt anymore"

"That's the cough drops," he whispers, and his voice sounds so intimate that you want to melt into it. He tucks your blankets around you, and takes the hot pack from your bedside table, silently applying it to your throat.

With your performance just tomorrow where you're supposed to sing live, this is really not something you want. You get the flu too easily, you have a shit immune system, had always been like that since you were a kid, but today, it feels even more disappointing because it's ruining something important you'd been practicing for a very, very long time.

You hum. It feels tight in your throat, and you cough again, trying to alleviate the pressure.

"Alright, alright, get it out," he moves the two of you around until you're on your side, and he's sitting right beside you. You're curled around him, and he's patting your back, rubbing it soothingly. The flue meds would kick in soon enough — knock you out. But for now, you worry, and you're angry.

You stick your hands up at him. You sign too quickly — clumsily ; "told you we shouldn't have went to the award show. Someone there was sick as hell and we all know it was—."

As he glares at the cameras trying to catch what you're signing, he also expertly catches your hands and lowers them to his lap before you can do or say something stupid, warming them in his impossibly warm ones.

"Stop fussing," he grumbles quietly, probably meaning for it to sound reprimanding, but it comes out more like a plea. "Go to sleep. We'll deal with this in the morning."

You sigh, burrying your face in your blankets. He keeps rubbing your back.

You eventually dig yourself out of the blankets, fever making your body run hotter. He helps you move on top of them until you're laying on your back, your upper body raised by a shit ton of pillows. He sits next to you like you're on your death bed. Something about the situation makes you want to laugh, even though you're a bit upset.

He still holds your hands.

When his hold on them finally loosens, though, when he probably thinks you're finally succumbing to the medication, you move your hands up again and sign, calmly this time ; "sorry for waking you up."

He fixes some strands of hair that fall in your face, sticking to the beading sweat on your temples. He shakes his head, his face severe and strangely.. comforting. Every harsh slope, every cruel swipe of scars, every movement. It all feels like home to you. His hand lingers on your temple. Calloused and scarred too, but he touches you with so much gentleness you only feel the soft edges of his fingers.

"Sleep, kid." He finally murmurs. You know the cameras and the crew don't catch that. "Please. You'll feel better in the morning."

You doubt it, but you close your eyes, and let his presence sway you into sleep anyway.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x afab!reader #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod #bodyguard!simon #bodyguard!ghost #famous!reader

197 notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 1 month

Text

love me a little more

kim dahyun x f!reader

synopsis: you weren’t much of a romantic type, always telling yourself that the intimacy was too much—all of that changed when dahyun came around.

warnings: fluff ; implied smut ; steamy makeout sesh ; not proofread

a/n: wanted to challenge myself into writing a fic in one sitting (i failed ;-;) but i've been more motivated to get more sana and dahyun content going on my blog!

the rain was relentless. canceling your date night with dahyun that would’ve been a hefty price tag at the fancy restaurant was a fantastic idea.

once the rolling credits of avengers endgame had ended with the soft sound of a hammer smashing on another piece of metal signifying tony stark making his first ever suit, you shift your head to the other shoulder while you mindlessly shut off the tv in the living room.

your right arm is pinned down by dahyun, who was fast sleep with her head on your shoulder. she insisted that you and her have a movie night together instead of going out, and she was right considering the small pitter patter sounds of the raindrops hitting the window in the dimmed household calling for the much needed bedtime. what made this more funnier was how dahyun said that she’d stay up for the entirety of the movie—only to doze off before the last twenty or so minutes towards the end.

before your mind could surrender at the thought of just sleeping on the couch for the night, not that you had a problem with that anyway, it would be better to just use the remaining energy left to just breeze past the hallway and into the bedroom, so lightly stretch all of your muscles and body parts while sitting, letting out a soft cough that causes dahyun to cling onto your arm tightly.

“hey…” you whisper over her head, “want me to carry you?”

dahyun lets out a soft hum through her oversized hoodie as your other hand finds hers clinging to your shirt, you can’t help but chuckle at the way she’s acting while you brush the side of her hair, scratching her scalp that makes dahyun melt more into the fabric.

“okay, let me get up at least beb.”

managing to get up and move your arm a little bit from its captivity, you turn around to face dahyun who was still sitting down, now curled up into a small ball into the couch, enveloping her with your upper body as your arms hook around her back and legs, lifting her up her arms find your neck—and she’s a little more awake now than just a few moments ago.

“we’re a little more awake now huh?” you say as dahyun leans her head in to give you a kiss on the cheek, one of her many ways of appreciation since acts of service was your main love language while dahyun’s was physical touch. (gift giving was her first one technically)

the dark corridor was filled with the soft murmurs of dahyun singing somewhat of a song as you make it past the bedroom door, moving closer to the bed before setting her down gently. dahyun then tries to reach for the covers, but you stop her, waving a finger while you went ahead and did it for her yourself, patting down the comforter once she was all snuggled up.

you were about to go to the bathroom to wash up, only for your hand to be caught by hers stopping you from leaving.

“you okay?” you ask her, turning your body before sitting down on the bed closer to her.

dahyun lets the silence fall for just a moment before answering, “yeah. i’m okay.”

“i was just gonna wash up before coming back, do you need anything?”

“well…” dahyun mutters out with a pouty look on her face, “i just want you beside me, that’s all.”

your head dips down from the answer before softly smiling at her, it was late anyway and you were just keeping yourself away from the comfortable bed that was in front of you. washing up can come later in the morning—it was already midnight and the rain falling made it the perfect background noise to fall asleep instantly.

“okay,” you say while cupping dahyun’s cheek, looking at her in the eyes, entranced by the galaxy that lies behind those set of dark irises. “i’m tired anyway.”

a shifting movement fills the bed, and you’re spooning dahyun under the covers.

the feeling is so safe for the both of you, the radiating warmth encapsulating with the comforter cuddling away to your heart's content as your chin fins the crook of dahyun’s neck, planting a soft kiss alongside the line of her throat while your arms link around her waist, pulling her closer to you.

tiredness didn’t always guarantee an instant slumber.

you’re trying to fall asleep, eyes wide open as you let your mind ponder in the vast space of darkness, the only lightsource let alone sound is the faint whirr of the humidifier on the small seat next to the nightstand, the scent of apple cedarwood filling the small space on dahyun’s side of the bed for the next few minutes.

though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered.

moving your body under the sheets would only keep you up, and you didn’t know if dahyun was already fast asleep like earlier, so you don’t bother to ask or move, you’re just staying still as a log.

luckily, dahyun also couldn’t fall asleep right away, so you were glad that you weren’t the only one. she turns her body around to face you, laying on her side while your hands shift lower to the small of her back, meeting her hips. her hands creep up to the front of her body, fiddling with the loose cotton of your shirt while your chin nicks a little bit of her forehead.

“can’t sleep?” you say quietly enough for her to hear, and dahyun looks up.

“yeah, i don’t know why.”

“you managed to stay up for the majority of the movie only to doze off right at the end.” you laugh while dahyun taps your chest.

“it’s your fault for picking a three hour long movie in the first place!”

“who was the one who didn’t want to go out tonight?” you ask in a doubled down effort.

dahyun lets out a sound that is almost an ‘i’, but closes her parted lips in defeat knowing that you won the exchange of banter.

a chuckle leaves your nostrils as you pull dahyun more closely, pressing your lips to her forehead with your hands on her cheeks, the meaningfulness behind it bringing a softer side of you to the front stage.

“i love this.” dahyun mutters out, giddily, smiling between your fingers, “how could you be so good at love?”

you’re staring at her, eyes darting in competition with hers, studying the concaves of her face and lips, trying to find the next words to suffice an answer—nothing comes to mind.

you don’t need words to tell how you feel about someone. especially with dahyun.

a first action was all that was needed when you lean forward. your lips finally meet dahyun’s, the kiss deepening as she presses her face deeper against yours, the rush of breaths clashing against the open air. its like succumbing to an open wound, the way her lips just mesh perfectly together with yours, her fingers slide on the nape of your neck, and you’re trying to decide whether to pull away or not.

you don’t want to, but for a slight second you do—moving your body underneath the comforter, taking the high ground hovering on top of dahyun, staring at her.

her eyes don’t lie, her cheeks are rosy pink through the hindering light, her lips bruised, hair tousled a bit, and she’s breathing raggedly.

“baby,” you mumble out, “is there—”

“just kiss me.”

without thinking twice, you go back for more. indulging in the touches like you have before, but not like this. fighting with your lips—biting, gnawing, pulling the other till it gets swollen or bruised, it’s igniting a fire from within, and it’s the same for dahyun.

the real work truly begins when you shift to her jaw and cheeks, your hands join in on the fun by slipping underneath her hoodie, the unreal slim waist that dahyun possessed now being held by your fingertips as you continued to take your time leaving marks across the whole board.

her hands are buried in your hair as she seems to have a good read on your thoughts at this moment, parting her lips again for you. when you meet her level again, there’s a swipe of the tongue, first in your mouth, and a trade off for hers. she’s softly humming, the sound of her filling your mouth while you reach her breasts from underneath, fondling with them as you leave another trail of kisses against her neck.

“god.” dahyun gasps out, and you silence her with your mouth but with a little less sense of urgency than earlier. each exchange of kisses being softer, slower. you’re taking your time with your lover as the neediness creeps out and away in exchange for sleepiness.

a final smack of the lips before resting your forehead on top of hers for a brief moment, planting one more kiss on her cheek before laying down beside dahyun again, wrapping arms and legs—not wanting any sudden movements from this point on while sleeping.

“goodnight dub,” you mumble before kissing the top of her head, and she murmurs out another sound against your shirt before drifting off to sleep finally.

or so you thought.

a cloudy, rainy morning greets the room through the curtains, and dahyun is the first one to wake up.

there’s been a tousle in the sheets, but somehow her body is still next to yours surprisingly with your arms still linked around her—all arms and legs against each other.

she shifts over a little closer to your body, her arm across your waist, but the surface is a little bit peculiar to her feeling when her eyes flutter open to notice that the shirt that was on you from the night prior was off. what makes this all the more puzzling, was that her hoodie was off too, exposing her whole chest as well.

dahyun looks down at the small hint of marks that were on her neck and a little bit of her collarbone. she doesn’t remember how those got there in the first place and her curiosity got the better of her when she peeped under the covers; she was in her underwear, a more astute observation at that.

her mind lazes at the thought, and she just nestles into the upper portion of your chest, lightly rubbing the lines of your ribs like playing on a harp.

eventually, she ultimately decides to sit up from your arching arm, letting it fall on her hip while she rubs her eyes to get rid of the lingering sleepiness and the small crusty bits that nestle between the corner of your eyes.

you let out a monotone sound into the pillow next to dahyun as she pats your forearm as an acknowledgement, giggling while she leans over to your smushed face in the cushions, showering you with light kisses to get you going.

“dub,” you mutter into the fabric as the ends of her hair tickle the cuff of your ear. “don’t even think about getting up from bed…”

“i wasn’t!" she yells lightly. "besides, i’m hungry anyway.”

“mmmmmmmmmmm.” is the only sound that’s heard while dahyun flips her hair to the otherside, hand slithering underneath the covers before the pads of her fingertips dance away before lightly pinching your side, getting you even more awake now.

“hey! what was that for?!” you gasp out, lifting the upper half of your body from underneath the mountain of your thick blanket with one eye open, groaning dramatically before shoving your face more into the pillow.

dahyun can’t help but laugh at your mini temper tantrum, shaking your head into the pillow, and hitting the bed with your fists, she also sees the heels also kick up in retaliation as well.

she then gets on top of your back, placing more light-hearted kisses from behind your ear and down to your neck—dahyun’s favorite sensitive spots of your body whenever you two got more sunk in more private settings—this was no different.

you then roll her off your back, sitting up slightly while she couldn’t help herself to kiss you just a bit more, putting herself over you as your hand seamlessly finds the lower part of her jaw, thumb resting on her cheek. the feeling of it is so tender, and the sound of the rain hitting the window really sets the atmosphere altogether.

“did you take off my hoodie in the middle of the night?” she asks with her lips still stuck on yours.

“yeah, it got a little stuffy.” you reply, landing another kiss to her bottom lip, pulling on it slightly while you look up at her with puppy dog eyes. “i might have done a little bit more than that actually.”

“i figured.” dahyun says, pulling away even more, looking down at the small hints of marks across her neck and chest. “but i’m not complaining though.”

you’re looking at her lips, then the marks you mindlessly made while you slid off your shirt and her hoodie at some point during the middle of the night, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself that time. now you’re biting your lip at her appearance. her beautiful, natural long black hair, bare face that looks even more alluring minus all the makeup (very minimally), her milky white skin with the hints of red marks all over, you want to do more damage—god you’ll pretty much will.

so you sit up, lips back on hers in record time, the kiss deepening by the second. her hands are moving in a frenzy, saliva being slid from both of your tongues, hearing the heavenly sounds come through in vibrations. your hand is through her hair, while the other is around her snatched waist.

the degree of elevation is then changed. you’re on top of her, and she’s below you. pulling away slightly as dahyun looks at you with longing eyes, the slight heaving from her chest, and she’s colored in a brilliant shade of pink—all for you. behind these walls and closed doors, where no one else sees, it’s perfect really.

“i think i have some unfinished business for you… the coffee can wait.” you say with a grin, the next thing dahyun sees is you lowering back, and she doesn’t even feel her underwear slip off from her body but your hands sliding up her legs to her hips.

she doesn’t fight the sounds coming out of her with the back of her hand.

the lighter of the stove clicks on the other end while you’re moving the pan back and forth with a set of scrambled eggs, humming along to a faint jazz song on your phone set to the left of you on the countertop.

you’re swaying slightly to the music when a pair of arms coat your waist, the cloth of your shirt getting rumpled underneath. dahyun’s head is laid on your back, eyes closed but with a beaming happy smile, all giddy and everything—a clear indication that you definitely gave her some of that morning magic just ten minutes ago.

“go ahead and sit down, dub,” you say, nicking your head back slightly. “i’m almost done here.”

she can only hum in response, kissing your back before she gingerly walks to the other end of the small kitchen island, still eepy and more than relaxed. you turn off the stove with the plate of scrambled eggs showered with some garlic salt and scallions, the other small plate in your hand with a stack of toast while you slide it over across.

feeding her a spoonful of scrambled egg while you’re munching through a slice of toast, dahyun’s face melts from the taste and cooking that you were so skilled at. you can’t help fall in love a little more at the sight of her being cozy and homey on days like these.

“it’s so cute when you can’t talk after we have sex.” you say out of nowhere, the last bite of egg passing your throat with ease. dahyun looks at you with deadlocked eyes, before she lightly punches you in the shoulder, acting all hurt while laughing. “i’m kidding! it’s still funny though.”

“i’m still waiting for my coffee.” she says, eyeing over the espresso machine that’s unplugged, with the two capsules for you and her both. “i’m leaving a one star review on yelp and not giving you a tip.”

you roll your eyes, before she pulls that eye smile of hers, kissing you on the cheek as her way of apologizing. blinking twice before you peck her lips and cheek twice before you fulfill her request. “you got it miss kim.”

#hyunie #dahyun #twice x reader #kpop x reader #dahyun x reader #kim dahyun #kpop imagines #twice imagines #twice dahyun #twice fluff #twice smut #dahyun twice #dahyun x you #twice x you

270 notes · View notes

livwritesstuff · 3 months

Text

Hazel James Harrington is about three years old when Steve and Eddie realize she will be causing a very specific kind of problem.

The problem really stems from how goddamn sweet Hazel is, and how hard that makes it to say no to her.

It's a new problem for Steve and Eddie, because they'd never had any problem saying no to Moe and Robbie (the hard part was getting them to listen). Hazel, though, and her little face and big eyes and mop of blonde hair that surprised them all by turning curly just like her big sister Robbie’s, is their sweetest baby by a mile, almost never getting upset or throwing tantrums. All that combined makes it so hard to figure out how to refuse things, and Hazel’s a smart cookie, so she totally knows this.

And she totally uses it to her advantage.

All. The. Time.

When Hazel was three, she went through a phase where she absolutely refused to go to sleep.

One Friday night, when all three girls were finally in bed, Steve and Eddie retired to the couch to watch a movie on DVD that they’d wanted to see in theaters but couldn’t ever get around to because…children.

It was nearing ten o’clock at night and they were fifteen minutes into the movie and Steve had a glass of wine in hand when the one light they had left on so they weren’t sitting in total darkness suddenly switched off.

Steve let out a sigh.

“Who’s out of bed,” Eddie asks in a mock-accusatory voice.

Steve turns to look towards the kitchen and can just barely make out a Hazel-sized shadow making its way towards them.

“Hazel,” he groans, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

And then the little shit has the audacity to climb into his lap, footie pajamas and all because it’s January and freezing cold outside, and Steve is only human, and he loves his kids so much it hurts, so of course he’s pulling her into his arms for a snuggle.

“You forgot to turn off that light,” Hazel tells him, her little hands tapping against his shoulders, “and I forgot to tell you what I dreamed about.”

“Are these daydreams, my girl?” Eddie asks, eyeing Steve warily because he can obviously tell how close Steve is to caving and spending the rest of the night cuddling their littlest girl, “Because you haven’t been to sleep yet.”

“No, I had the dream last night,” she corrects.

“Ah, my mistake. Apologies.”

Needless to say, Steve and Eddie put a pause on the movie to hear about Hazel’s dreams.

Another time, the whole family was heading into Boston for a Red Sox game, and they were running really late.

“Okay, who’re we waiting on?” Steve asked.

“I don’t have eyes on Hazel,” Eddie replied, mid-way through corralling Moe and Robbie to the car.

Steve found Hazel in her room, still in her pajamas, looking up at her closet.

“What’s the hold-up, hon?” he asked.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she told him.

Steve’s eyebrows flew up, because between Eddie’s inability to shake his love for buying clothes for their kids and years of hand-me-downs from Moe and Robbie, Hazel’s closet was packed.

“You’ve got plenty to wear,” he replied.

“I just…” Hazel shrugged up her little shoulders as she looked back up at her closet, “I’m just not the right person for these clothes.”

“Okay?”

“It’s about how you feel in the clothes,” she continued.

Steve narrowed his eyes, silently running through his mental rolodex in search for whoever she might have learned that one from.

(He suspected Robin).

“Okay, baby, no matter what, you cannot say that to Daddy.”

“But I like talking to Daddy.”

#hazel is how steve would have turned out if his parents had actually loved him #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #late post = long post ig

242 notes · View notes

oniikabuto · 1 year

Note

hi i hope this doesnt seem annoying bc i have never requested anything from ppl IDK it makes me anxious 😭 but ur one bed for sp was so cute i adore ur writing !!! do u think u could do it for craigs gang + butters?

one bed! part 2

-- sfw --

part one (main 4 boys)

characters: butters stotch, craig tucker, tweek tweak, tolkien black, jimmy valmer, clyde donovan

a/n: you arent annoying at all dws!! ty for being my first request this is monumental. oh and i wasnt sure if tweek counted as part of craigs gang or not but i adore him so i made one for him. also thank you!!!!!! ;; also jimmy is so underrated i love him so much mwagh

notes: i cant write clyde for shit idk he has no personaluty sorry i love him though; same character dynamic as part 1 (mutual pining, character has a crush on the reader)

— ⛧ b. stotch

complains that it's past his bedtime, but gives in because he wants to spend time with you.

"it's past nine already!"

"well.. yeah. it isn't that late, butters."

"but i always sleep at nine!"

but he'll sit through movies with you anyways because he has a fat crush on you.

except when the end credits start rolling, you look over at butters and he's curled up in a ball, snoring.

you don't have the heart to wake him up, so you quietly shut your laptop and move it off your bed.

he'll probably get in trouble for not coming home at all, but his parents trust you enough. you can probably talk them out of grounding him tomorrow morning.

"butters", you whisper. "leo, you gotta move."

he rolls over, half-asleep and dazed. "huh..?"

"you're staying with me tonight. scoot over."

"o-oh, jeez, okay", he blushes when he feels the warmth of you next to him.

"night, butters."

he's probably praying he doesnt wet the bed he would actually die

murmurs in his sleep and talks about nonsense

drools like a puppy

probably goes mimimimimi like in the cartoons /j

you will wake up with his arm around you. if you move it, he'll find his way back again in his sleep

looks like a baby when he sleeps its so funny you cant help but take photos

— ⛧ c. tucker

you turn around to tell him it's getting late and ask if he needs a ride home

and he's dead asleep. on the floor. textbook over his lap. snoring very softly.

like no wonder it's been so quiet... as you were doing your homework, craig was asleep on your floor.

you felt so bad having to wake him up to move him to your bed

"craig, i'm so sorry. i got distracted, i didn't mean to-"

"it's fine. just let me sleep in the corner. i like your plushies", he yawns.

so he sleeps in the corner against the wall, and you sleep on the outside to make sure he doesn't roll right off the bed.

if you weren't there, he definitely would have bc when you wake up, he's smushed into you.

how can he breathe???

he also violently gnashes his teeth and it's very startling (my brother did that as a kid and i would almost pee myself in fear)

and he'll randomly put his hand somewhere like your face?????? the way he does it is so funny because it always seems like he's wide awake but you look over and he's mouth breathing and sound asleep

yeah he's a mouth breather

it's okay he's a cutie

— ⛧ t. tweak

passes the fuck out from coffee. like CRASHES

"yeah and then i was telling kyle about how- tweek, you okay?"

"tired....... can i go.....mmfjkg"

like at a certain point past 1am he just turns into a dead slug

poor thing

you just send him up to your bedroom and get him a change of clothes so that he doesn't have to sleep in a button-up

except by the time you get up to your room, he's dead asleep.

you don't bother trying to wake him up, since you've never seen him sleep so peacefully.

he's curled up on his side, face buried in your plushies.

you scoot in next to him, so close that you can smell the milky coffee lingering in his hair.

it's kinda nice

in the middle of the night you wake up to a really strange noise.

it's tweek

he's doing this weird clicky thing with his tongue in his mouth in his sleep

like. okay?????? you go back to sleep

and then he flings his whole arm over and WHACKS you hard in the face

"TWEEK??"

"nhg..,"

he just randomly jerks in his sleep, wakes up for a second and falls back asleep

it's very startling

sometimes you have to hold him down with your arms

he loves it

— ⛧ t. black

actually a super chill guy to sleep with

he's enjoyable to have over

you'll both be studying for midterm exams next week, and he yawns

"it's like. ten. do you just wanna spend the night here?"

"is that, uh- is that okay with you?"

"yeah, my room's upstairs. i'll meet you up there in a sec"

he'll text his mom that he's spending the night because he's actually responsible

gets a little embarassed to sleep in your bed

but a win is a win

gets a LOT embarassed when you get in bed with him

falls asleep pretty fast actually

he's a relatively normal sleeper

spends like 30 minutes in the bathroom washing his face and stuff before he goes to bed

"do you have cleanser?"

sleeps like a rock

except for when he randomly talks

like TALKS. clear as day

scares you shitless

"y/n."

'tolkien??? are you up still??"

"why would you do that."

"do what??"

"grape juice"

and then he'd roll over and go back to sleep

does not remember any of his nighttime conversations in the morning

"i said that? are you sure?"

— ⛧ j. valmer

fell asleep on your couch in the middle of a horror movie

to your dismay

because when you turned away from the screen and grab at him in fear, he's SNORING. his ass is SNORING as the clown violently murders the main character.

"jimmy!"

"what?"

you just make a jokingly-angry face at him.

"it's late. can't i ju-just stay h-h-here?"

"well- i mean, sure, but you can't just sleep on the couch, dude. come up to my room, i'll show you."

"re-really?"

grins ear to ear

hes so down bad for you

almost implodes when you lean his crutches against the door and make sure they won't fall

DOES implode when you get in next to him

he smells like dish soap but in a good way

like citrus

you tell him so, and to that he makes a stupid "orange-you happy i'm here" joke

"jimmy, go to sleep."

"f-fine."

makes sure he's got the elastics for his braces in

in the middle of the night he'll whisper your name

"y/n r u still up"

"yeah what"

"i just thought of something really funny"

it gets old so fast but it's okay he's cute

— ⛧ c. donovan

crashes at 8pm after insisting he can pull an all-nighter

refuses to get up unless you drag him by his ankles

and even then he'll lay on the floor like a dead fish

so you just let him stay

meticulously brushes his hair sideways with wet fingers to make sure he doesn't wake up with a bedhead in front of you

he does anyway.

you walk up behind him as he moves his hair "whatcha doin?"

he jumps THREE FEET and whirls around

"nothing!" as if he's hiding a government secret or sum

once you guys r in bed he stops acting all tough and cool and just freaks out

his back will be turned but he's beet red

breathes really loudly when he falls asleep

and sleeps in ATROCIOUS positions

you'll wake up with his foot on your chest and the blanket flipped upside down

someone needs to belt this boy down to the bed or something

he's really a cute sleeper though

sometimes you wake up and see him face-down in a pillow and move him over to make sure he doesn't like. suffocate

and then he wakes up to you on top of him with no context

"....y/n?"

772 notes · View notes

slimearchon · 19 days

Text

Pretending to flirt in gamer chat with gamer boyfriend Xiao x GN reader

(Not edited)

You had your headset on, and you fiddled with the mic a bit, nervous about the prank you were about to pull.

You were sitting on your couch, Xiao in the corner of the living room at his gamer desk playing a PC game. You had always been more of a console person, a black controller in your hand since elementary school.

You rarely talking in-game both a mixture of too shy and the fact that you game to relive stress not to elevate it.

You joined a Minecraft server and put down a good bad and had your friend Aether join the world under a fake gamer tag. He was using a voice changer so Xiao didn’t catch on too quick.

It made his voice lower and cool toned, not his regular high pitched bright tone.

“Hey how’s it going? Wanna build with me?” You asked into the mic, tilting your head away from Xiao because a smile was inching its way on your face.

“Cool. Nice to meet you, Kade. What do you like doing more? Collecting materials or stacking the blocks? Cool, me know if you want to switch and I’ll start collecting too.”

This raised your boyfriend brow but other than that he didn’t look over or turn in his seat. You nodded your head to your self.

You planned to ease into this prank. You played for another thirty minutes, laughing at some of the jokes Aether attempted to make.

The third time you burst out laughing Xiao turned his head at you, you noticed his screen light up on a recently killed background.

He mouthed, “Who are you talking to?” He tilted his head, the lamp light making his real eyes sparkle in the otherwise dark room.

You made it like you muted your mic but kept Aether aware that your prank was working. “No one just a rando I met today. He has the best jokes.” You repeated some of the ones he has told to see Xiao’s reaction.

All the jokes were Minecraft related and the only reaction your boyfriend gave was a slight narrow of his eyes and deadpan stare. Clearly not liking the jokes.

“I’m about done with my game. You want me to join?” He asked, his eyes looking at the boxy male character that showered you in building building blocks.

Usually he was your collector and you were the decorator.

“No, it’s fine babe! Play your game.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head slightly and returned back to his PC.

The final nail in the coffin was when your house was complete. “All right looks like all we need are the beds and some chests to fill the space. Let’s go hunt some sheep.”

A few minutes past, “I’m changing the bed color do you want me to do your too? Yeah, I have yellow dye. Okay cool. Here you go let me drop it for you.”

Xiao tilted his chair away from the pc and and eyes you with a piercing glare on his face. He saw you drop the yellow bed and then the rando put it right next to yours and laid down.

You didn’t bat an eye, simply laying down right beside him as your screen dimmed some.

“Babe I think you have had enough Minecraft for tonight.” Xiao said, turning off the Tv and leading you to the room. “Come on, bedtime.”

You giggled a bit as you were led of the bed and snuggled down against Xiao. “Only I get to lay in bed with you.”

You didn’t have to see his face, his pout was prevalent in his voice.

“Is someone jealous? It’s just a game.” You reassured him, smiling into the dark room and his adorable expression.

“Yes, you should only lay beside me in bed, in real life and virtual reality.”

You yawned, “I’ll be sure to remember that. Wouldn’t want my cute boyfriend upset.”

You planned to tell him about Aether’s role in the prank but snuggling up to your warm and soft boyfriend drifted you off to sleep.

He wasn’t pleased to find out about the prank when Lumine spilled the beans while y’all were out getting coffee before college classes.

#genshin impact #x reader #genshin impact x reader #gamer bf xiao #xiao x gn reader #xiao genshin #genshin fluff #xiao x reader

87 notes · View notes

fandomfucker · 7 months

Note

heyy, would you be able to write a fluffy rhea x reader one shot please?

one where reader and rhea have been dating for a little bit and reader has a kid (like 1 year old or something), but rhea doesn’t know yet. reader has a conversation with rhea and confesses and rhea is shocked, but asks to meet them. as soon as she meets the baby, rhea falls in love with him/her and adores the baby so much and grows to love him/her like her own. and just make it like really fluffy please?

it’s okay if no ☺️

I don't know a lot about kids so please bear with me, and apologies for taking forever. Please enjoy ❤

Words: 2,336

I was so nervous I could've thrown up.

Rhea and I had been going out for a few months now and she was coming back tomorrow after having not seen her for over two weeks.

And since we've already been going out for a couple of months, I figured it was either now or never with telling her about my daughter, Celia.

She was almost two now and my absolute pride and joy. Her father hadn't been in the picture since before she was born but I wasn't nervous telling Rhea about him. Just her. Because if she wants to have me she has to have my daughter too and if she can't deal with that then...

Let's say that my saying I'm nervous is a severe understatement. I was absolutely terrified.

Neither of us had said it yet, but I love Rhea. So much. So if my having a child is a dealbreaker then I don't even know what I'll do.

Tomorrow I'm going to be picking her up from the airport after her last match against Raquel Rodriguez. They're giving her a two-week injury-scripted break after having been in multiple WWE events each week the past few weeks.

We've both been really looking forward to it and had even started planning some stuff for us to do while she was here. Luckily we actually live only one city apart so she doesn't have to get a hotel or stay at my house, just in case anything goes wrong.

Which, I don't think it will but you never know.

I was currently bathing my daughter before bedtime, the worry must've been evident on my face.

"Mama?" Celia spoke up.

Looking down at her I saw her looking up at me, her eyes fixated on my face. There was a little crease of confusion and concern between her brows.

"Yes, my darling?" I questioned her, bending down to give her forehead a kiss as I filled the plastic cup with water again to rinse her hair out.

"Why sad?" She asked innocently, splashing her rubber duck in the water as she played. This duck was Sir Quacks a Lot, who was married to the other Sir Quacks a Lot. They had drama with the Mrs Quacks a Lot and we're currently in an argument about Baby Quacks a Lot.

"Nothing for you to worry that pretty little head over," I grinned, booping the top of her nose, sending her into a fit of giggles and splashes.

After Celia's bath, I dressed her in the fuzzy brown bear onesie I had found for her not too long ago and put her to bed.

Walking back downstairs after making sure Celia was asleep, all the nerves and doubts I had managed to push aside came back and hit me.

I went to go grab a glass of water, noticing that my hand was starting to shake. I decided to just go straight to bed. After all, Rhea was getting in pretty early so I had to be up and get to the airport also super early. At this point, all I could do was hope that she wouldn't leave me.

-Time Skip-

Waiting at the terminal Rhea would be coming out of with a bouquet of flowers was nerve-wracking as hell. She had texted me the estimated time they were supposed to land but it's never exact so I didn't actually know when she would arrive.

After a little over half an hour, I finally saw her plane land and make its way to the little hallway between the plane and the airport. Another twenty minutes later I saw her. For the first time in over two weeks, we were in the same place at the same time, together.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched her look around for me, our eyes finally meeting from across the room.

I watched as her gorgeous face lit up and she started to make a beeline for me.

Momentarily forgetting my nervousness I grinned and stepped forward to meet her in the middle as we collided into a tight hug.

"Hey, beautiful," I spoke, my voice thickening with emotion.

I felt Rhea release a deep sigh of relief against me before she responded, "Hey, baby."

"I missed you," I croaked into her neck, shoving my face into her and breathing her scent in.

"I missed you too," She replied as she stroked my hair with one hand and my lower back with the other.

Pulling myself away from her I just stood there and stared at her face for a second before speaking, "Let's go home, yeah?"

She nodded and grabbed my hand as we started to walk towards the luggage claim to pick up her suitcase.

"So, are those for me? Or..." Rhea playfully questioned me, trailing off at the end as she gestured to my hand holding her flowers.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. I had completely forgotten about them in my excitement of having her here with me again.

"Yes, they're for you, sorry," I apologized, blushing deeply. She chuckled and took them from me, smelling them before kissing my temple.

"They're beautiful, Love. Just like you," She smirked at me causing me to blush yet again.

I ducked my head down to hide the blush as I grinned widely and giggled.

We made idle talk as we walked to the luggage claim and then grabbed her luggage before making our way to my car.

Getting in the car my previous nervousness hit me again in full force. Pausing to just rest my hands on the steering wheel and take a breather I could feel Rhea turn to me in concern, "What's wrong?"

She was giving me an opening, it was now or never.

"I have something I need to tell you." Slowly I pulled my gaze from the dash of my car to her eyes. Her brows were furrowed in concern and her mouth was pulled into a frown.

"Is everything okay?" She asked sort of hesitantly.

I nodded quickly, "Yeah, it's just...something I haven't told you yet that I probably should have."

Rhea nodded in encouragement for me to continue.

I took a deep breath. "I have a kid."

Silence.

"What?"

"I have a daughter. Her name is Celia. She'll be two in October." I whispered into the quiet, too scared of her reaction to be any louder.

She looked lost in thought for the next few minutes, slumping back against the seat.

"I'm sorry for not telling you but I could never find the right time and-"

Rhea cut me off, "Hold on. Just, stop."

I shut my mouth, terrified out of my mind of what she was going to say next.

"I just need a second to process this."

"Yeah, no I understand. It's a lot to take in." I quietly replied, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered. She sounded choked up and on the verge of tears which made me start crying.

"Because I thought you would leave and I was scared." I sobbed, covering my face with my hands as if to conceal the tears.

"No, no no no no no." Rhea clamored, reaching for me over the console. "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." She tried to reassure me, smiling softly. "I could never leave my best girl hangin'."

I giggled at the reference to one of my favorite movies ever and wiped my eyes and nose with the back of my sleeve.

"C-can I meet her?" Rhea asked hesitantly, "It's okay if not I completely under-" I leaned over the console and kissed her, effectively shutting her up.

"Of course, you can meet her. She's actually been asking for quite some time now when she gets to meet 'Ree-Ree'." I laughed, recounting the many times she asked for another bedtime story about "Mama's friend".

Rhea beamed and kissed my cheek, reassuring me once again that she was okay with me having a child. We'd be having a more in-depth talk about it later on but right now it was time for them to meet.

We pulled up to my house almost half an hour later, where my sister was watching Celia while I was out.

Getting out of the car, I grabbed Rhea's luggage for her before she even had a chance to grab it and walked up to the door with my keys. Taking a deep breath I unlocked the door, pushing it open before standing aside for Rhea to walk in first.

She nodded in thanks as she walked through, looking around and taking in her surroundings. My house was a bit more on the unconventional side, being a maximalist and all.

"Zoey?" I yelled into the house to find her after closing the door behind us. "Kitchen!"

I rolled Rhea's suitcase against the wall a little ways away from the door and motioned for her to put her backpack there as well before following me.

I made my way to the kitchen with Rhea following idly behind, still taking in my house. As soon as I laid eyes on my daughter in her booster seat I smiled and made a beeline for her, making "monster" grabby-hands.

She squealed with delight, grinning madly all the while as I unbuckled her and picked her up above my head, blowing raspberries on her exposed stomach making her squirm and giggle.

Bringing her down to rest on my hip I kissed the top of her head as she buried it into my neck. I turned around when I remembered that we weren't alone.

Zoey, my sister, and Rhea were standing next to each other, both watching the two of us with a smile on their face. I side-hugged Zeoy hello before introducing them to each other.

"It's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so many things about you and Y/n even made me get into wrestling." Zoey exclaimed excitedly, making Rhea laugh. "I've heard a lot about you as well so it's great to meet you too."

"Well, I better get going I have to run some errands before I get home to let the dogs out." Zoey excused herself, grabbing her bag before making her way back over to me.

"Bye-bye CeCe." She cooed, tickling her neck before giving her forehead a kiss. "I'll see you later, sis," She gave me another side hug.

"Rhea, it was lovely meeting you, maybe we can all get together soon while you're here? Oh! We could do a double date with you two and me and my partner!" She excitedly exclaimed.

"Totally! That sounds great, we'll definitely have to get together. I can't wait!" Rhea replied enthusiastically. Zoey gave Rhea a quick hug before bounding out the door, leaving us alone with my daughter.

Rhea slowly walked up to us, I could read the nervousness on her face.

"CeCe, this is mama's friend Rhea, remember?" I spoke gently to Celia. She lifted her head from my neck and looked at Rhea with her big beautiful eyes. I could see Rhea's initial hesitation melt away as they locked eyes.

"Hello there, little one." Rhea greeted her softly, waggling her fingers at her like how she does when she's in character.

Celia must have recognized either her name or her picture because she then started to bounce in my arms as she giggled and held out her arms to Rhea to hold her.

"You wanna hold her?" I asked her, shifting my hold a bit on CeCe.

"Um, I-I don't know. I'm not really sure how I should hold her." Rhea stammered.

"Just like this," I replied, gesturing goofily to how she rested on my hip.

"O-okay," She half-smiled nervously, grabbing Celia under her arms and hefting her gently onto her hip. Celia giggled and wiggled around the whole time, putting her hands on Rhea's face and patting them around.

"Sorry, she likes to do that," I apologized embarrassed.

"It's all good," Rhea laughed, gently removing Celia's hands from her face.

Grinning at my two favorite girls I made an offer they couldn't refuse. "How about y'all go and play while I go and make some breakfast yeah?"

"Yes!" Celia squealed, squirming enough that Rhea put her down. "That sounds great, Love." Rhea chuckled.

Celia raised her arm near where Rhea's hand rested, asking for her to hold her hand. Rhea grabbed a hold of her hand and was immediately pulled away towards the direction of the living room. Rhea shot me a look of panic before disappearing from my view making me laugh.

I put on some music and began making breakfast as Rhea and Celia played in the living room.

After I finished making breakfast I set the table as well, wanting a nice fancy breakfast for Rhea's coming home and first time at my house.

I made my way to the living room to get the two of them to come eat but stopped short in the doorway when I saw them.

Rhea sat on the floor crisscrossed in front of Celia with a tiny plastic crown on her head, a pink plastic teacup in one hand, and a giant plastic dinosaur in the other.

Celia stood in front of her also wearing a tiny plastic crown on her head but I could see that Rhea had given her one of her necklaces to wear as she poured the two of them cups of tea.

I smiled as I watched Rhea play pretend with her, not wanting to interfere with the adorableness. Just seeing Rhea wearing her scary full black outfit with dark jewelry and makeup wearing a tiny pink crown was enough to make me fall madly in love right then and there. And I think I did.

"I hate to interrupt, but breakfast is ready," I spoke up, finally announcing my presence.

Celia bounded over to me, holding out the end of Rhea's necklace she was wearing to me. "Look what 'ea gave me!"

"Wow! What a lucky girl you are! Let's go wash up for breakfast though, yeah?" I picked her up and set her on my hip as I turned to look at Rhea who was blushing furiously.

Grinning at her I playfully asked what was the matter.

"Didn't know you were there," Rhea mumbled, reaching up to pull the crown off.

"Leave it, I like it," I smirked as I turned on my heel to make my way back to the kitchen. I think this could work.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day #the judgement day x reader #tjd x reader #wwe x reader #wwe #wwe raw

163 notes · View notes

washy0uaway · 7 months

Text

Kiss City Pt. 1

Series Masterlist | Part 2 here<3

A/N: Prefacing this by saying this is my first ever fic attempt that I'm very excited to share with this lil corner of the world :) This pairing was originally inspired by the song Kiss City by Blondshell (cause that shit is Frankie coded forreal - we'll get there, I promise). Pls be kind! Very open to feedback, etc. - I have no idea where this series will go, but my plan is to just have fun with it <;3 Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: You weren't expecting to sleep through your alarms the morning of a massive presentation you'd been prepping for your boss. You also weren't expecting to get rear-ended on your drive into the office. You definitely weren't planning on spilling your coffee all over your new blouse. But the thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. Warnings: eventual 18+ / MDNI!!! car crash, fainting. -------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit,” you mustered under your breath as you dropped your keys, fumbling to lock your front door before leaving for work. It was barely past 9:00am and you could already tell it was going to be… a day. It had started by sleeping through your alarm, waking up frantically after quickly realizing you had to make yourself presentable and be out the door in less than twenty minutes.

You had spent the night prior awake much past your bedtime, spending hours finishing a massive presentation for the CEO of the marketing company you worked for. It was fairly unrewarding work, but it paid well. Your boss’s and coworkers were all around your age, fun, and easy to work with. The laidback attitude of the company lends itself to the idea of stopping for Starbucks on your way into the office - you could swing being another 5 minutes late. Really, you know you wouldn’t be able to fight the still present exhaustion without at least 3 shots of espresso in your system, stat.

After ordering your latte (with an extra shot of espresso), along with an Iced Tea for your office coordinator and self proclaimed “work bestie,” Liz, you peeled out of the drive thru and were on your way. That is, until you weren’t.

It happened quickly, as you were approaching a green light. The signal turned yellow, with your car not yet in the intersection, bordering the line of acceptable to just drive through it. “Getting pulled over would take longer than waiting at this stop light,” you thought to yourself as you quickly brought your car to a stop.

Before you knew it, your forehead was ricocheting off your steering wheel and the full latte you were actively sipping was now drenching your new, white top and burning your skin. It took you a moment to realize what had just happened, glancing in your rear view mirror trying to catch an initial glance at the asshole who had just rear-ended you. After rolling down your window, you motioned to the culprit with your arm that you would be pulling to the adjacent strip mall parking lot, praying they would have the decency to not speed off.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you whispered to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt, fuming at the circumstance and cursing the universe for reinforcing the fact that this really, was just not your day.

The pickup truck that trailed behind you luckily didn’t seem too damaged, leading you to hope your car wasn’t in worse shape. You swung your car door open and stepped out with a huff. “Seriously, dude? What the fuck?” you borderline yelled the direction of the pickup as you heard its driver follow suit in stepping out of their car.

You hear him before you see him, a low pitched voice saying, “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” as he quickly strides from behind the truck. If you hadn’t been enraged, you would have dropped your jaw at the sight of him.

He’s a tall, broad man, in faded black jeans and a dangerously fitted dark green tshirt. What seems to be a head of thick dark curls is hidden under a visibly well loved baseball cap, and the perfect amount of facial hair to match peppers his face. He has dark eyes you could swim in - they meet yours as he asks if you’re okay a second time.

“Who, me?” You retort sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m great. I really woke up this morning and thought it would be a good day to spend drenched in espresso in the FedEx parking lot.” He lets out a laugh to try and ease the tension and my god, does it work. “God, I’m so sorry,” the stranger continues with one hand in his pocket, the other tightly grasping the back of this neck. “My kid’s daycare was calling, I dropped the phone and apparently I'm the dumbass who thought he could reach it below the passenger seat. Took my eyes off the road for half a second, I swear.” The mention of his kid surprises you, and your hormone driven brain is curious after noticing he’s not wearing a ring.

“Well, dumbass, at least your truck doesn’t look too damaged.” His face drops as he glances over your shoulder, “Yeah, yours though..”

You hadn’t had a second to assess the damage, quickly whipping around to the wreckage. “No no no!” you exclaim as you rush closer to your very mangled car. He’s quickly hovering above as you’re crouching at your bumper, already asking if he can call you a tow truck or give you a ride. His glance wanders down to your freshly soaked crop top, and you take no notice of him blatantly checking you out. You don’t respond to his questions, instead letting a long sigh escape your mouth as you rest your face in your hands, now fully sitting on the ground.

“Seriously,” he says pointedly, regaining your attention. “This is my fault, let me take you wherever you were headed. I have a good buddy who owns a shop not far from here, I’ll give him a call and have ‘em send a tow out.” He’s now crouched down to your level, and you suddenly feel his intense gaze on you waiting for a response.

A long moment of silence passes before you finally give in. “Fine.” Turning your head his direction, he’s already standing back up and reaching out a hand to help you up.

As he pulls his phone from his back pocket to call the shop, you introduce yourself and offer him your name. He’s instantly looking up from his phone to see you shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and glancing toward the ground. When he holds out his hand to shake, your eyes meet again. His features are now much softer and more relaxed, and a kind but shy smile is slowly spreading across his face. You can see in his eyes that he has a big heart. One you wouldn’t mind getting to know better, at that.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure now’s a good time,” he jokes. You take his hand, much larger than yours, in a firm shake, both of you holding on just a moment longer than necessary.

“I’m Frankie.”

Frankie call his 'buddy' (Benny, you gather, after overhearing his conversation) and confirms they'll send a tow truck your way. "You owe me one, pendejo," he pleads into the phone. You call your office next to let them know you'll be even later than planned. After assuring you it's not necessary to stay and wait for the tow truck, he opens the passenger door of his truck and offers you his hand to help you inside. I could get used to that, you catch yourself thinking.

Once you're situated in the truck, Frankie enters your office's address into the GPS on his phone. As he puts the truck in reverse, his right arm has braced itself on your headrest. His eyes cross your face for a mere second before he's suddenly slamming on the brakes, jolting you in your seatbelt for the second time this morning.

"Jesus man, are you trying to kill me?!" "Shit, sorry it's just - are you sure you're okay? Your forehead..." His eyes narrow as he glances above your right eyebrow. Instantly, you're pulling the visor in front of you down and sliding the small mirror open. Lo and behold, you're sporting a swelling lump on your forehead that's already started to bruise. As if on cue, your head starts to pound. "Dammit," you sigh, gently touching your forehead "I guess I hit the steering wheel harder than I thought." "Yeah, no kidding. Can I take you somewhere to get checked out? Make sure you're okay?" "What, have someone tell me to ice it just so they can bill me god knows how much?" You turn to look at Frankie, and notice his eyes are trying to hide worry. "Thanks, but that's really not necessary." He hesitantly concedes and you're (finally) on your way to work. It's a fairly quiet drive. Frankie asks you about your job and hums along to the song playing through the stereo to fill the silence. Girl from the North Country by Bob Dylan, you recognize it almost instantly.

"You have good taste," you almost smirk and glance his way, causing him to wring the back of his neck again. Must be something he does when he's nervous, you note to yourself, picking up on his anxious demeanor as his free hand grips the wheel slightly tighter. "You like Dylan?" he asks, turning the volume up. "Of course. My dad raised me on him - that was my first concert, actually. I grew up in Michigan, and he'd always joke I'd be someone's 'Girl from the North Country' someday." You realize you're rambling and cut yourself off from digging a deeper hole of embarrassment, "Sorry... saying I 'like' Bob Dylan is an understatement." "Nothing to apologize for," he glances over at you with a shy smile, "except maybe comparing my taste in music to your Dad's." This makes you chuckle, and his eyes are still locked on you - you hardly notice his staring until the stoplight turns green and the car ahead of you speeds off. "Hey man, have we learned nothing this morning?" you look over to see him already focused on you, and can't fight the blush you're aware has to be creeping over your cheeks. "Stay with me, Frankie!" you exclaim as you snap your fingers in the direction of the road. "Gladly." he whispers, nearly inaudibly. A few seconds pass, and you're not convinced he'd said anything at all. The shyness and anxiety take hold as he pulls in front of your downtown office building. Before you can even register that you haven't exchanged phone numbers, insurance information, or even asked the name of the shop towing your car, you're opening the passenger door, tossing a quick "Thanks for the ride!" over your shoulder and hopping down from the truck. With a quick pace, you're walking to the front door when you hear Frankie call your name. "Y/n! Wait!" You notice first that his voice sounds distant - muffled, even. Next, you realize you've fully halted your jaunt inside. Your feet are no longer moving beneath you, and your vision starts to go blurry. "You left your..." Frankie's voice trails off as you lose consciousness entirely, and your knees buckle beneath you.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #fanfic #triple frontier fanfic

154 notes · View notes

katsukichu · 1 year

Text

𝐎𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 - 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐠𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Re-upload in honor of Katsuki's birthday🥰. This is my fav prompt piece the lovely @sukisangel helped me write🥺. 18 + Characters are aged up.

Being a hero has its pros and cons.Staying in hotels,being able to work in a team with your UA colleagues and spending extra time with your boyfriend – Dynamight.

It also meant patrolling the whole day in the scorching weather,fighting villains while trying not to cause too much property damage and trying to reassure the public that everything was under control.

After an exhausting day of patrol you made your way to your shared hotel room.It was way past Katsuki's bedtime and you expected him to be asleep.You opened the door to see Katsuki sitting on the edge of the bed - removing his gauntlets,which made you assume that he also took the latest patrol time slot just like you.

His hero costume is roughed up,face covered in scratches,dirt and dried blood.Your first instinct soon clicks in,quick to attend to all his wounds. Ignoring your own exhaustion,you close the door,before grabbing the first aid kit and making your way towards him.

After dating Katsuki for so long you were able to pick up on any change in his behaviour.You've always watched for small changes in his demeanour - such as his facial expression or body language.You could tell he'd been put through the wringer today but you were more than happy to help him blow off some of his post-patrol steam.

"Hi there, my baby." you cooed, brushing his hair away from his eyes and placing a small kiss at the top of his forehead.He tries to hide the way the corner of his lips gently tugged upwards to form a smile with a huff, grumbling something as a way of greeting you.You take a cotton pad and dab some antiseptic on it.

"S'gonna burn…" you warn him.

"I know.. and I don't need you to do it" he scoffs, trying to take the cotton away from your hands – which he successfully accomplishes.

"Please? Lemme take care of you." you whispered, gently cupping his face in your hands as your thumb softly caressed the skin under his eyes.

He knows arguing with you is futile and he's too tired to fight back for once so he agrees – giving you the white fluffy material back. He hates to admit it, but he loves how thoughtful and caring you are towards him, even when he’s not being the ideal sweet boyfriend to you.

You hold the pad up and he gives you a small nod, signifying that you can start cleaning his lesions. You gently wipe his face and study it for any sign of discomfort – his nose scrunching up every now and then.

You take a few steps back to study his battered outfit, soon dropping to your knees – only to take off his belt and lower his pants a little, just to give you more space to dress the wounds on his abdomen. Bakugou's breathing hitch when your hands brush along his inner thigh, causing a wave of heat to travel through the blonde’s body.

"You okay? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" you panic, furrowing your brows a little as you look up at him with pure concern in your eyes.

"No. No,it's nothing, dumbass…" he dismisses you, turning his head to the side as a faint shade of red coats his cheekbones.

Somethings wrong, you sense - Katsuki doesn’t tend to act this way. You finish unbuckling his utility belt, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. Your eyes trail to his thighs, searching for any more wounds, only to notice that he's bouncing his leg.

You gently place your hands on top of it and he stops. After applying the antiseptic on his stomach wounds, he starts getting fidgety again. You stop and place your hands up on his shoulders, making him look at you.

"Okay, Kat. What's wrong, really?" you question with a raised eyebrow.

"It's just… You look so good on your knees like that..'' he admits, placing his right hand on your cheek, lightly brushing his thumb against your soft skin.

"Oh,Katsuki!" you exclaim as a chuckle escapes your throat, playfully slapping his thigh – making sure not to hit too hard or anywhere where he's hurt.

"You need to take a shower. Your injuries are bad and a bit deep, you need to let your muscles relax...Plus, we aren’t home, what if they hear- "

“It’s just us, everyone else has gone to bed… a little thrill doesn’t hurt anyone, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he cuts you off, pure venom in his words as he teases you and smirks.

"Fine…” You sigh, giving into his wishes knowing damn well that he wouldn’t give up on this fight. “...but I want to take care of you.You don't have to do anything, just sit there and look pretty." you spoke softly, looking up at him with an innocent mask on your face as you placed your hands on his thighs.

"I'm so proud of you for how hard you worked today,Dynamight." you spoke while adjusting your position on the floor.You toss the first aid kit aside, before looking up again as your chest swells with pride from making Bakugou's flustered.

Before Katsuki can respond, you unbutton his pants and slide down his muscular legs – letting it pool around his ankles. He shuffles his feet until they're off and kicks them aside.

Seeing the outline of his clothed cock and the patch of pre on his boxers made you clench your thighs.You try and ease some of the tension in his muscles and gently massage his legs with your fingers. You place soft kisses along the outline of his muscles and inner thighs. Resting your head on top of one of his toned thighs, palming him through the thin material of his boxers. You smirk when you feel his hips bucking into your warm touch.

"C'mon, pretty baby… ahh fuck..please" Bakugou curses, placing his hands on your nape

"Okay, but only ‘cause you asked so nicely. Good boy.." you praise as you tug on the waistband of his Dynamight themed boxers to let his throbbing cock spring free.

The sight makes your mouth water, causing you to lick your lips as you stifle back a moan. Everything about Bakugou is mesmerising -- from his vermillion eyes to his gorgeous scarred body, sculpted by a Greek god. His cock is no exception. He has an impressive girth,a perfect curve that always hits the right spots and prominent veins that run all along his shaft. He has the cutest happy trail and a fairly neat bush at his base.

Using the tip of your tongue you tease him by slowly licking the veins along his shaft – stopping momentarily to kiss his pretty pink tip.You make sure his cock is properly lubed up with a mixture of his pre and your saliva, before cupping your hand to give him a few teasing pumps while the other moves to tease his balls.

You feel Bakugou's strong hand on the back of your head slowly move down to cup your cheek. His thumb gently brushes your cheek again and he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up. You keep eye contact with him as you swirl your tongue around his tip – taking a moment to appreciate the blissful expression on his face and notice how tight he's gripping the edge of the mattress.

"No teasing… please.. ‘m not gonna last long" he begs as he jerks his hips up in an attempt to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You take a deep breath and try to prepare yourself to take his cock down your throat. No matter how many times you've had sex with him you can never truly adjust to his size. He always leaves you with an aching jaw by the end of each scene.

Bakugou lets out a few shaky breaths and the most sinful moan when you finally start bobbing your head up and down his aching cock. You flatten your tongue out and try taking as much of him as you can. The right hand that was once pumping him length, now stroked the rest that didn’t fit inside your small mouth.

Above you, Bakugou becomes a whimpering mess. His tongue is lolled out, eye-cross and drooling slightly as he's overwhelmed with pleasure, causing his hands to grip the sheets even tighter. Every time you gag around his dick he prays that he isn't going to cum quickly but he can't help especially when he has the prettiest vixen going down on him, doing wonders.

"Fuck.. Fuck.. Y/n, I'm gonna.. Haaah" Before Bakugou can finish his sentence, he cums, filling your mouth to the brim. You swallow before any of it dribbles down your chin and go to waste, then finally letting go of Bakugou's cock with a lewd pop.

As you and Bakugou try to catch your breath, you start thinking about taking a shower to wash away all the accumulated filth from work.. You glance back up at Bakugou and examine his injuries again. His chest is heaving and his eyelids seem to drop. He notices you staring and you realise you must have a rather dishevelled appearance as him.

"Come on, stop staring. I told you that we need to shower and take care of your injuries" you scolded him as you rolled your eyes and got up from the floor – causing your knees to slightly wobble.

“I really don’t care, ya look hot and ‘m trynna not to fuck ya senseless right now, sweetheart” He smirks, gripping your hips with both hands and tugging you towards him before you had the chance to escape.

Taglist

@buzzyboi79 @0lissa0 @nishikina @bakugosgorl @bakugosbratx @minninugget @aomi04 @dabis0bitch @bakubabeyy @keisurou @hannas16 @namjoonswifeyy @neko-loogi @stormcloudsbrewing @nymphoheretic @gently-folded-paper-cranes

Based on the prompts

"It's just… You look so good on your knees like that..''.

It’s just us, everyone else has gone to bed….

“I really don’t care, ya look hot and ‘m trynna not to fuck ya senseless right now, sweetheart”

#✎.kai writes #happy birthday bakugou #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #mha smut #aged up characters #smut prompts #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou smut

315 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 6 months

Text

1.3k words of the author bullying blaise zabini just for the plot (Chapter Three of The Doll) — slytherin boys x gn! ‘the boy’ (2016)! reader

Requests open

tws: dolls, obviously; reader referred to as ‘it’ (presumed inanimate); mentions of past child character death(s); mentions of a house fire—implied arson; violence; & murder

based entirely off of the 2016 film ‘the boy’. the painting? dear jesus fuck. that’s my trauma. watching that scene when i was like, thirteen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Without further ado, Blaise snatches up the fucking doll, stomping upstairs with the doll carelessly dangling by one porcelain arm. Reaching Y/N’s bedroom (of course the freaky doll has its own bedroom, why wouldn’t it?), Blaise opens the door with much more force than necessary. He pauses in the doorway, taking in the room that the L/Ns had so carefully decorated—as if it were an actual child’s room—with brightly colored bedsheets, cartoon animals painted on the walls, and toys scattered everywhere.

He aggressively chucks the doll onto the rocking chair in the corner, (“The reading chair,” the L/Ns had cooed. “Y/N just loves when we read them bedtime stories”), and shuts the door as he leaves, digging through his pockets for the skeleton key the L/Ns had left the boys and locking the door with a resounding clack!

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he tries to calm his racing heart. Drawing the key back out of the lock and tucking it away safely, he makes his way back downstairs on shaky legs.

He pointedly looks down at the floor as he passes the painting of the L/Ns.

Returning to the living room, his friends stare at him with wildly curious expressions.

“You okay, man?” Draco asks slowly, tilting his head.

“You guys aren’t getting popcorn tonight,” Blaise says with finality, his voice cracking on the last word. Blaise Zabini is not the kind of person to waver while speaking.

The boys don’t press the issue.

They instead scoot over, making room for him to join their blanket pile on the floor as they start the movie. Once he’s settled in, Blaise focuses on watching Cady Heron fumble her way through high school and tries to push the fuckery with the doll out of his mind.

~~~ Passing through the main narrow hallway, Blaise precariously carries a stack of antique books, liable to disintegrate at just the wrong glance. The rain is still going strong, a sudden clap of thunder causing the hallway’s oil lamps to splutter feebly. Cursing under his breath, Blaise sets the books on a decorative hall table and fumbles through his pockets for a lighter. Just in time, another crack of thunder seems to shake the whole house, the lamps giving off one last sad spark of light before giving up entirely.

His thumb slips against the flint wheel a few times before the lighter finally flickers, a flame catching on the wick. The tiny pinprick of light in the otherwise murky and oppressive hallway does nothing to light up Blaise’s surroundings. Moving the lighter around slowly, so as not to accidentally catch anything in the old house on fire, he slowly makes his way down the hall, immediately banging his hip on a console table.

Cursing again, Blaise swings the lighter around, looking for any more furniture boobytraps attempting to further maim him.

Then, a soft sound could be heard.

Blaise freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

It’s the unmistakable sound of a child crying.

Holding the lighter out in front of him like a weapon, Blaise takes a hesitant step down the hall towards the sound. The flame of his lighter then glints off of something hanging on the wall, a very large glossy wooden picture frame.

It’s the damn painting.

Frozen in place, Blaise can’t do anything but stare up at the imposing painting in terror. In the meager light, the L/Ns faces all look demonic and twisted.

The sobbing gets louder, closer.

He glances down the hall towards the sound, his heart pounding in his chest, before glancing back at the painting.

A hand shoots out from the canvas and seizes him around the throat, sharp nails digging into his flesh and squeezing squeezing squeezing-

~~~

Blaise wakes up in a cold sweat. Heart practically beating out of his chest, he breathes heavily, every one of his senses on overdrive, screaming at him to get out of there.

The clock on the TV stand glows a comforting green, whispering the time as an early five in the morning. The sun has only just begun to break over the horizon, gentle morning rays leaking through the decorative bits of stained glass at the top of each of the windows and casting warm shades of colors over the ceiling.

Mattheo lays stretched out next to him, dead asleep and hogging all of the blankets. Enzo and Draco fell asleep on each other, in a way that looks terribly uncomfortable. Theo is sprawled out across all of them, his head on Blaise’s knee and half of his body sandwiched between him and Mattheo. They must’ve fallen asleep before the movie ended, because the little DVD logo box slowly bounces across the screen, avoiding the corners like the plague.

Blaise scrubs his hands over his face, looking around the inviting and entirely non-threatening room. Really, the house is rather cute, in its own charming way. Like how a grandparent’s house is always tacky and poorly decorated, yet still perfect and homey nonetheless.

Knowing there was no way he’d be able to fall back asleep, Blaise carefully moves Theo’s head onto a blanket, sliding out of the group pile and standing up. His knees snap crackle and pop as he grunts to himself, shuffling to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

The kitchen is even cuter in the sunlight, with pale gingham curtains framing the window above the sink and cross-stitch frames dotting the walls. As he flicks the start lever on the coffee pot, he takes the opportunity to look around the room. Tacky linoleum floors? Check. Kitchen towels with embroidered kitschy sayings? Check. Live laugh and fucking love, everybody.

Blaise leans against the counter on his forearms, listening to the coffee pot hum. Taped onto one of the kitchen cabinets in front of him is a faded polaroid of a family in the outdoors, the woman and man grinning widely at the camera while the young child in the foreground appears to be mid-laugh, clinging to their father. The scrawled handwriting at the bottom describes the photo as ‘Y/N’s 9th birthday at the lake!’

Blaise’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks over the photo again. He hadn’t recognized them immediately, but sure enough, the woman and man in the photograph are the L/Ns. They look so much younger and happier in the polaroid, the weight of life having yet to set in.

Caught up in his thoughts, Blaise barely notices when the coffee pot dings to let him know that it’s done. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he pulls down a few mugs for him and the rest of the boys. He glances down curiously when the coffee pot continues to hum.

His brow furrows as he taps at the machine with a fingernail. The coffee maker splutters indignantly and beeps again, then goes silent.

But the hum continues.

Abandoning his quest for caffeine, he peeks out into the hall, wondering if one of his friends had woken up. He peers into the entrance of the living room from the kitchen doorway; he can see the still-bouncing logo on the otherwise mute TV, and his four friends still sprawled out on top of all of the blankets.

But the hum continues.

He steps a little further out into the hall. He can now hear distinctly that the sound is coming from upstairs. Looking back at his abandoned mug on the counter forlornly—and mentally cursing himself for being insatiable in his curiosity—Blaise slowly starts up the stairs.

Once he reaches the top floor, the sound grows louder. It’s clearer now too. Blaise can tell that it’s not a hum.

It’s a child’s sobs.

Eyes widening, his gaze immediately latches onto the door of Y/N’s bedroom.

Surely not.

Holding the skeleton key retrieved from his pocket between shaking fingers, he slides it into the lock and twists, the door slowly creaking open.

The doll is still sitting in the chair, exactly as he left it.

He sighs in relief.

It’s a doll, dumbass. You’re just being paranoid. The war just left you on edge, that’s all.

He turns to leave, to go back downstairs and enjoy his coffee, when something catches his eye.

The doll is crying.

A single tear tracks down its face, hanging still for a moment before dripping off of its porcelain chin.

Blaise stumbles backwards, dropping the key with a clatter. He tugs the neckline of his shirt down frantically, feeling the phantom hand from his dream wrapping around his throat once more. He could swear he feels those damn nails again, slicing into his skin.

Watching the doll with bated breath and terror-stricken eyes, Blaise waits a long moment before another tear runs down its face, running down the bridge of its nose from its forehead.

Wait.

Forehead?

Blaise slowly looks up at the ceiling, a bit convinced that if he looks away from the doll for too long, it’ll lunge. He releases the breath he’s holding when he sees that the ceiling has a leak, rainwater from last night’s storm dripping down. Down from the seam of where the shut tight pull-down ladder to what must be the attic—or some kind of storage space—meets the rest of the ceiling.

It’s just an old house. There’s no crying dolls, no monstrous paintings. Just a wacky old house with wacky old owners.

Yep. That’s all.

~~~

Chapter Four <3

136 notes · View notes

citrinesparkles · 2 years

Text

six in the morning.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 503 words. notes: requested by the lovely @jason-redhood for my blogiversary celebration how was may so long ago??? i hope you enjoy, lovely <3 warnings: none i can think of!

"c'mon, bedtime."

he chuckled before speaking quietly. "what am i, five?'

"jason," you said firmly, moving around his chair to lean against the table, effectively blocking the lamp from shining on the papers in his hand. "it's six in the morning."

his brow twitched ever so slightly, subtly confirming your belief that he had lost track of time. he sighed, leaning back in his chair and dropping the papers unceremoniously beside you before looking up to meet your gaze. "okay."

"which is bedtime."

"then go to bed."

"i was in bed. i slept."

he smiled, a charming thing- sweet eyes steady, tanned cheeks squishing upwards, lips elegantly curling- and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. "i'm so glad, gorgeous. did you sleep well?"

"well enough to know when you're trying to distract me."

"hey," time for stage two: the chair slid back, and suddenly your boyfriend was the picture of innocent concern as he stood up and gently slid his hands onto your hips. "i'm not allowed to ask about your rest?"

you welcomed his touch with a warm hum, bringing your own hands to his chest. "not as a misdirection, no."

he hesitated, watching your eyes for a moment. "it wasn't just a misdirection."

'i know," you said quietly, "that you care about me, jason. i'm asking you to care about yourself, here."

"i do."

"weird way of showing it."

"i was working."

"and i think it's time to be done."

he looked past you towards the window with a hint of a glare in his eyes, almost as if trying to intimidate the sun into reversing its rise. the thought made nearly made you laugh- nearly.

you fought to bite back the sound. this was serious business.

you couldn't show weakness, not when he was so close to giving in. not when his shoulders had softened ever-so-slightly, and you could see him weighing his options.

"hm..."

"hm?"

"are you going back to bed?"

"only if you are. i was hoping to get an hour or so of sleep next to you before i start my day," you responded, voice gentle and hopeful before it shifted into something more serious. "but if you really need to get more done, i understand, jason."

he hummed appreciatively, glancing from you to the papers littering the table and back again. "i can probably afford an hour or so."

"perfect," you grinned, pulling back and dropping your hands to the small of his back. "then you-" you pulled and pushed gently, prompting him to turn around, and he humored you- "put your work away, and i'll go make sure i didn't kick the pillows across the room when i got up."

he let you push him towards the table, your hands lingering near his spine as you kissed the back of his neck before muttering quietly.

"thank you."

"mhm. i'll be right in, try not to fall asleep before i get there."

"guess you'd better hurry, then, handsome," you called, heading towards the bedroom.

#citrine writes #these unexpected hiatuses and i are getting unpleasantly familiar with each other smh!!!#SIGHHHH c'est la vie #hope yall enjoy <3 #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd #the only man i can imagine getting up at 6 am for willingly #dc #dc x reader #dc comics #dc imagine #gn reader #sleep #requested #c's blogiversary

1K notes · View notes

pedge-stuff · 10 months

Note

PLEASE WRITE A PART 2 for accident! I’m obsessed

I hadn't planned on it, but... this has been arranged.

accident p. 2 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always.

summary: you let him fuss.

It's well past midnight as you key into the apartment. Pedro busies himself by getting you settled, although his movements are almost as sluggish and haggard as your own. Six hours in the ER had taken its toll.

"Why don't you head up?"

You'd sat on the chair by the door, intent on untying your shoes, but had apparently been staring at them for the last few moments. Without a second thought, Pedro kneeled before you. "I'm gonna take the dogs around the block, and then I'll close up down here."

You are struck, not for the first time this evening, by an overwhelming wave of gratitude. How did you get so lucky?

He jingles the leashes, pausing to kiss your forehead before heading out.

It takes you way too long to get up. Some combination of exhaustion and low-dose Vicodin have you zoning out, effectively sleepwalking without Pedro to move you along. There is a pharmacy baggy on the counter, but by the sluggishness of your thoughts, the remainder of the prescription might need to go untouched.

Eventually, you drag yourself upstairs.

Everything feels dirty. The loaned scrub pants come off easily, shed in the doorway of the ensuite, to be dealt with later. (Thrown away, burned, ripped to shreds... Dealer's choice. Anything to be rid of them and put the whole evening behind you.)

You want to take the hottest shower possible, and scrub off the invisible hospital residue until your skin is raw. But the prospect of standing for long enough to get clean is... logistically impossible.

At least your dominant hand is uninjured. You reach around, fumbling with the buckle on the back of the sling. For a broken bone, it wasn't very high tech— just a few pieces of fabric holding the two halves of your left clavicle in place. But the damn thing may as well have been a rubik's cube, for how impossible it was to unstrap.

That's about where Pedro finds you: back down to your underwear, hunched on the closed lid of the toilet, frustrated to tears.

"This is so stupid."

"Baby," he starts softly. His dinner attire has been pared down to slacks and an undershirt. "Please let me do this for you."

A brown paper bag is set on the counter, so he can gently remove the sling, followed by the scrub top. Eyes closed, you wilt on the lid. Pedro reaches to plug the tub, without asking, though you nod slowly as he looks back.

The man busies himself as you watch on: changes into a well-loved pair of flannel pajama bottoms, tosses some lavender epsom salt into the slowly-filling water, swears a blue streak doing something suspiciously loud in the other room.

When he returns, slightly red in the face, the bath has been filled.

A not-insignificant part of you had hoped he'd be joining, but Pedro chooses instead to perch on the side, running a hand through your hair as you settle against the porcelain. From within the paper bag, a bag of mini Reeses cups are presented.

"Bodega dinner," he says proudly, adding, "you gotta eat something, baby."

"I'm okay," you whisper, though you're not talking about the peanut butter, at all.

"But you almost weren't," he says hoarsely. "I keep replaying that phone call over and over again in my mind. I think my heart stopped for a second. I just..."

You can only nod, mutely. The feverish, borderline frantic look in his eyes traps any response in your throat. (Honestly, he'd been looking at you like that all night. Hasn't really taken his eyes off you since he found you in the hospital hallway.)

So, you let him fuss.

Out of the tub, you lightly dread bedtime, though you've been fantasizing about sleep now for hours. The doctor had specifically warned against sleeping on either your side or back, instead sending you home with a diagram of how to sleep sitting up. Which sounds worse than a car accident, frankly.

But, upon entering, you discover the bedroom has... transformed? Your bed, normally centered, has been pushed into the corner. One nightstand has been abandoned in the middle of the room.

"I'll move that later," Pedro says sheepishly.

All the pillows on the bed, and from the chaise in the opposite corner of the room, have been gathered in a clumsy pile. The dogs have already assumed their positions against the footer.

Pedro shucks off his undershirt, and crawls into the makeshift nest. With pillows to support his often-fragile back, he reclines against the wall corner. Pats the mattress.

"You can't lay down," he warns, as you shift onto the bed. "The doctor was really particular about that."

"Sitting up," you echo. Although, at this point, you'd crash standing up if it meant you could finally fucking sleep.

Pedro splays his legs. "Come here."

Carefully, one-handed, you maneuver yourself according to his gesturing. Settling, back-to-chest, against him; legs between his legs. Propped up like a rag doll. As if on autopilot, Pedro's arm comes up to wrap across your stomach.

"This can't possibly be comfortable for you," you protest.

His lips brush your temple. "I promise." His grip tightens; you are a human teddy bear, which feels appropriate, since your brain is full of stuffing.

Each rise and fall of Pedro's chest presses warmly against you. There is nothing to wake up for tomorrow, no alarm to set— you'd cancelled your Sunday Brunch plans sometime between the IV and the x-ray.

"Hey." You loll your head against his shoulder. Can't meet his eyes, from this angle, but in the darkness of the bedroom, it doesn't really matter.

"Hey."

Your fingers lace with his, where they clutch around your side. "I love you."

"Mm." His chin hooks over the top of your head. "You have no idea, sweetheart."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader

153 notes · View notes