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deansbeer · 28 days ago

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✷ ◟ LAZY DAYS & LOADED TENSION ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. a lazy day with dean takes an unexpected turn when the tension ignites into an intense, passionate moment between you.

KARI'S 🗒️ NOTES. this was all heavily inspired by bree's & nat's lil monster <3 who i oh so love sososo much❗️get ready for some actual smut between these two on dean's bday (JAN 24) so for the next three days u will only be getting the cutesy awkward stuff (except for this one).

it's a lazy day in the bunker, one of those rare moments where the world outside seems to pause, letting you all take a breath. sam had gone out for his usual morning run, leaving dean behind, who you know is likely at the table cleaning his guns. bolt is curled up in his crate by your nightstand, fast asleep, his little nose twitching occasionally as he dreams.

you, on the other hand, are in your own little world. britney spears' gimme more is blasting through your earbuds, taking you somewhere far from the dimly lit bunker. your feet are bare, toenails painted a soft baby pink, and you're swaying to the music as you tidy up your cluttered room. you're wearing light blue high-waisted mom jeans, slightly loose around the ankles but hugging your hips perfectly, and a white baby tee with nothing underneath. the cool air in the room makes it so your nipples peek through the thin fabric, but you don't care—it's just you, after all.

your hair is set in pink plastic rollers, bouncing slightly as you move around, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. you're lost in the lyrics, mouthing along as you pick up bottles of hair products, tossing them into a little basket by your tiny vanity.

the door to your room is open, but you don't think much of it. it's just dean here, and he's doing his own thing. you spin around slightly, half-dancing as you grab another bottle of mousse from your bed, when you feel it—a slight rub against your hip.

your body freezes, your heart jumping into your throat. instinct kicks in immediately, and you yank the earbuds out of your ears, the sound of britney's voice cutting off abruptly. your hand flies to the drawer of your tiny vanity where dean's gun sits, the weight of it familiar in your hands as you whip around, aiming it at whoever—or whatever—is behind you.

"whoa, whoa! easy there, sweetheart!"

the voice is low and familiar, and it takes you a second to realize it's dean. his hands are up in mock surrender, a calm look on his face as he steps closer, gently lowering the gun in your trembling hand.

"dean!" you scold, your voice coming out in a mix of relief and irritation. "what the fuck? you scared the crap out of me!"

he smirks, clearly amused by your reaction, though there's a softness in his eyes that lets you know he didn't mean to startle you. "sorry. didn't think you'd pull a gun on me."

you huff, setting the weapon on your vanity as you glare at him. "what do you want?"

he shrugs, leaning casually against the vanity like he doesn't have a care in the world. "finished cleaning my guns. thought we could watch a movie or something."

you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "you interrupted my britney spears concert for a movie?"

he chuckles at that, the sound low and warm. "yeah, well, figured you could use a break from… whatever this is." he gestures vaguely to the rollers in your hair and the half-empty bottles of hair and makeup products scattered around your room.

you roll your eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "fine, but give me a minute. i need to take these out and clean up."

"don't take too long," he says, pushing off the vanity and heading out the door and over to the dean cave.

once he's gone, you shake your head in amusement, pulling the rollers out one by one. your hair falls into soft, bouncy curls, the kind that make you feel like you've stepped straight out of an '80s movie. you run your fingers through them, fluffing them up a bit as you glance at yourself in the mirror. satisfied, you clean up the rest of the mess in your room before heading out, walking barefoot down the hall toward the dean cave.

you walk on your tiptoes, your curls bouncing with each step as you run a hand through them, feeling lighter than you have in days. when you step into the dean cave, you stop short, your mouth falling open slightly.

dean has gone all out.

the coffee table is covered in snacks—your favorite peanut m&ms, kettle corn popcorn, and a glass of wine poured into one of the fancy glasses you love so much. there's beer for him, of course, and a few of his own snacks off to the side. the couch has been replaced with a new, large u-shaped one, big enough for the two of you to sprawl out comfortably.

he's already sitting there, legs propped up on the coffee table, a beer in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in his lap. his other arm is draped casually across the back of the couch, and when he sees you standing in the doorway, his lips curl into a smug smirk.

"what do you think?" he asks, his voice teasing but with an undertone of pride.

you shake your head, a giddy laugh escaping your lips as you walk over to him. "you really know how to spoil a girl, winchester."

"only the best for you, sweetheart," he says, his tone half-joking but his eyes soft as they follow your movements.

you sit down beside him, tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for your glass of wine. the two of you settle in, the movie starting up on the screen as you sip your drink and munch on popcorn.

a few minutes in, you realize you've unconsciously gravitated toward him, your shoulder brushing against his as you lean against the couch. his arm stays where it is, draped across the back, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

and then, somehow, everything shifts.

you're not sure how it happens, but one moment you're watching the movie, and the next you're straddling him, your fingers tangled in his flannel as his hands grip your hips.

his lips crash against yours, the kiss messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue as the two of you lose yourselves in each other. your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his t-shirt, while his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing firmly as you grind against him.

the friction is almost too much, denim against denim creating a delicious pressure that has you moaning into his mouth. his tongue tangles with yours, the kiss growing more heated by the second, and you can feel the slight scruff of his beard scraping against your skin in a way that only makes you want him more.

your breathing is heavy, your lips swollen as you pull back for a moment, but his hands keep you in place, his grip firm but not rough.

"you're so beautiful, baby, so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire.

you don't respond—not with words, at least. instead, you crash your lips against his again, pouring everything you’ve been holding back into the kiss.

saliva drips down your chins from the intensity of it all, but neither of you care. all that matters is this moment, the weight of his hands on your body, the taste of him on your tongue, and the way he's making you feel like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

and for now, that's enough.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites . . . ☆

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reidgenius · 3 months ago

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Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #divider by bunnysrph #margovember #criminal minds fic #Spencer Reid fic #Spencer Reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

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astrow0rldx · 4 months ago

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pac 18+ their sexual desires for you

one

"In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fuckin' and fightin' on It's our paradise and it's our war zone It's our paradise and it's our war zone". could be in a relationship already, or they desire to court you, take you on a date, outside walking, living together, cutesy romantic things. someone could have hurt someone, now they want to fight you back sexually. or just hurt you in the bedroom, mentally and physically. they could desire you to be this siren coquette person, where your mysterious and don't show to much affection or care for them. play mind games on them. which may be your reaction to getting hurt, or what's hurting them. but at the end of the day they want to feel tied to you, committed to you and your where home is. a lot of people have that taste in relationships, where they don't want all of them unconsciously, but they want them to be theirs. but this fight in the bedroom, is going to be chaotic, and may want to use handcuffs, ropes, etc. even risky sex where it's so much fire passion you have a baby, now you are trapped. they could want to keep this relationship professional, or surface level in a sense, take it as it resonates. they want to fuck and argue like married couples though, but them being the one you come to too fuck on a bad day and you come to them about all your problems. any type of psychological problems you have, they want to fuck it out of you, they want to see it come out while your fucking, they want to fuck you in the state of being so hurt and broken you don't even want to fuck. but whats coming through strongly is the surface level, mysteriousness, detachment, & professionalism of the connection, the conflict and heartbreak of it, and realizations that is prominent in their sexual desires.

two

they could be dreaming about you, delusional, fantasizing. trying to control and tame themself because you are so fucking sexy. they could be thinking about undressing you and exploring your body. they could desire foreplay, going out to eat, or making food for you. kissing, making out, hugging, on top, bodies together then he gets to slowly undress you. you could be kind of perfect to them, or like they met their match. because they have a lot of ideas, and imaginary energy when it comes to you. in an animalistic, passionate way. they desire to uncover your mystery, see your wild side. exchange kinks. see how you would look with their dick in you mouth. see what it would be like if y'all started a competitive, bratty game and fucked till both of you guys was timed out, but the sex be so playful, expressing, fun, and bright. they want to balance their emotional side with their sexual side. after care, dates, making food for you, helping you with your clothes. even making family stuff, mom/dad/kid involved. them being the daddy. my advice, that outside of the question, make them wait lol. be more teasing till the finish line.

three

im getting a vibe of we about to get some shit straight type of sex. you don't know what i'm going to do to you when i see you. maybe for some they are proving their loyalty and how much they are standing on business for you. when you get inside the bed they are going to be persistent, long lasting, stamina. very excited to see you, celebratory sex. the adrenaline of like sneaky link type of sex "this shit feel like teenage fever". "who came to make sweet love..not me. when we... fuck". they say but they desire to transform something with this sex, maybe they desire to come back into contact with you and kind of hesitant, but they desire you. for most of you they kind of want to be in and out of your life, coming and going when they please and you still being (one) of their girls. but they want both parties to be chill on their own in their own life. but for some it is an energy of being no contact, or at a distance. maybe needing some type of travel, or time and building to get to a certain place. and they kind of desire the ability to be at peace with you. they could desire helping you in a certain way, financially, sexually, or just with love when your feeling a lack of it and be each other peace of mind/sex. bring peace and material abundance so you can be good on your own feeling satisfied.

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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tw - implied non/con, extreme pet play, dehumanization, psychological/physical abuse, and unbalanced power dynamics.

commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.

Sometimes, you really do think Suguru thinks of you as a pet.

It shouldn’t be as difficult to believe as it is. Of course you’d be less than human to him, less than equal to the god-like status he has among his followers. But, Suguru knows he’s not a god, and while you might not be the only person he claims to be superior to, you are the only one he keeps locked in a steel-barred dog crate padded only by thread-bare blankets and distant memories of what it felt like to sleep in a real bed. You’re special – albeit, not the kind of special you’d like to be. You can disregard most of his grandiose speeches about ‘complete non-sorcerer elimination’ and ‘killing off those worthless monkeys’ as the self-indulgent rambling of a deranged cult leader, but he doesn’t seem to be phoning it in when it comes to you.

He doesn’t talk to you. Communication occurs solely through blunt orders (come, sit, bark, etc.) or sweetened, syrupy baby-talk, cooed as his fingers card through your hair and pet down the length of your spine. You’re expected (something learned purely through trail and error, reward and punishment) to follow him around happily, to sit at his feet and clamber into his lap whenever his eyes find yours and he taps his thigh, that expectant smile already tugging at the corner of his lips. Depending on the day, you’re either coddled and adored like a beloved pet, allowed to walk on two legs rather than four and fed treats out of his open palm, or treated like a stray who’d wandered in off the street and refuses to leave. You do prefer the former to the latter, but it doesn’t really make that much of a difference, not if you’re being honest with yourself. Either way, you always seem to end up on your knees between his legs as he sits above you, a fist curled around your collar as he tells you to lick, puppy, lick.

Speaking of – you’re not allowed to wear clothes. You used to hate it, to steal his shirts and hide in closets, to do anything you could to salvage what little pride you had left, but it’s hard not to get used to something forced onto you so constantly. The only thing Suguru’s ever given you to wear is a simple, black, leather collar – studded with silver spikes and drawn tight enough to bite into your throat when he pulls on it, which he does often. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you wear those cutesy animal ear headbands or, god forbid, a tail, but not as thankful as you should be. As unbearable as it’d be, having him dress you up like a cat or a dog or some wide eyed, sexed-up rabbit would take the edge off. Like this, it’s harder to believe he thinks of you as an animal, as something cute and small and vulnerable that he can love and care for. It’s harder to deny that he knows you’re human – he just doesn’t see why that would ever mean you couldn’t also be his pet.

You think, when you’ve exhausted all other silver linings, that it’s (partially, at least) his excuse to keep you. You know what he does to people who aren’t like him, you’ve seen what he’s like at his worst, and you know that, if you weren’t his pet, you’d just be another non-sorcerer, another nuisance the world would be better off without. If you’re a pet, you can’t be a person, and if you’re not a person, it means he’s not going against his warped ideals when he pulls you close to his chest, when he ghosts his lips over the top of your head, when he fucks you so softly and so gently, you can almost believe he cares whether or not you enjoy it. Pets are supposed to be loved, and so he’s not doing anything wrong by loving you.

You know what would happen to you if you weren’t his pet, too, if he couldn’t make excuses for himself. You’ve seen how wide his smile can be when he comes home with blood on his clothes, how little effort it takes for him to hook his hands under your arms and carry you to his bed, already muttering about how perfect he’s going to make the world for his pretty, precious pet. You’re not allowed to leave his cramped apartment, but he talks about putting you on display for his acolytes as he ruts into you with an almost animalistic brutality, about showing all of those filthy, degenerative insects what a well-trained mutt looks like. You know that you should do more to fight back, that your humanity should be worth more to you than a few half-hearted escape attempts and the occasional pained whine, but you’ve seen see what he can do, heard about the dismembered bodies he leaves to rot in a ditch behind his temple, and—

And, no matter how much you hate him for it, no matter how much you hate yourself for it, it’s true.

When it comes down to it, you’d rather be his pet than be nothing at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru x reader

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letstrip13 · 5 months ago

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୨୧ - cramps

summary: your boyfriend comes over to take care of you when you get your period

warnings: none, just enjoy cutesy bf!chris. not proofread!

word count: 819

author's note: day 3 of posting blurbs!! send requests for blurbs or fics!! also over 600 likes on my last blurb is insane, i haven’t gotten that many in so long tysm!! 𖹭

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you're laying on the couch in your apartment's living room, all curled up in the only position that can provide some relief from the pain. your period came this morning and by this evening, the horrible day one cramps had hit.

about ten minutes ago, you had texted your boyfriend, chris, to come over to cuddle and watch a movie. he wasn’t too far so he’d be showing up any minute now.

another few minutes tick by when the door you left unlocked for him comes flying open. chris bursts through the door holding an overflowing grocery bag in each hand as he calls out to you, sounding urgent, “baby?!” you sit up in a panic, worried by the tone of his voice. “i'm in here!”

he rushes into the living room and drops the bags on the coffee table, almost knocking over the scented candle you had burning in the process. a giggle slips out of your lips, the panic quickly replaced by confusion and amusement. “what's all this, my love?”

he looks up at you, an expression so nervous that you just want to run your fingers through his hair and give him a squeeze, but you let him speak.

“i- umm.. it's everything you need for your period. i know it's hard for you sometimes.. so i wanted to make it better.” the confusion courses through your mind again. you hadn't mentioned it when you texted him. “wha- how'd you know?” a soft chuckle escapes him. “you always ask me to come cuddle when you're on it.. and we've been together over a year, princess, i know you.”

“you're so sweet, i don't know what i’d do without you, chris.” his face breaks into his usual charming grin. “wanna see what i got?” he kneels in front of the couch where you're sitting and he places the bags in front of him.

first, he pulls a box of pads and a box of tampons, placing them next to him. “just in case you needed more,” he adds with a sheepish smile, “i hope i got the right ones.” “you did great, baby.” a relieved smile crosses his lips and he continues digging through the bags.

he pulls out a hot water bottle complete with a cute cover, pink with little red strawberries scattered around it. then he follows it up with a bottle of generic painkillers. “the lady at the store says these will be good for your cramps,” he tells you with a proud little smirk.

he takes out a pair of black fresh love sweatpants and the zip-up hoodie to match. “these because i know you forgot to get some last time you were over,” he pauses and digs around in the bottom of the bag and pulls out a pair of purple fuzzy socks with black cats on them, “..and these because i know you love halloween, even if it is a little early.”

you watch him carefully, hanging on to every word he says but you remain silent, words having left you for the time being. he takes a different approach with emptying the second bag, opting to just dump everything out in front of you. out tumbles a pile of your favourite snacks, chocolate, and candy, as well as six bags of honey bbq fritos which chris starts to ramble on about, “i was looking for these for so long. i went to so many different stores and gas stations this week but they were sold out every time. i saw them today and thought might as well buy them all-”

he's interrupted with a choked sob escaping your lips as hot tears roll down your cheeks. the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend's loving gesture gave you such an overwhelming feeling of adoration. but mixed with the heightened emotions as a side effect of your period, you can't help but cry.

chris quickly notices and rushes to pull you into his arms, doing his best to soothe your sobs. “is something wrong? did i buy the wrong thing?” a few slightly louder cries come out of you before you can hold it together enough to speak. “no, it's all perfect. you're-” you manage to gasp out between sobs, “perfect. i love you so much. thank you.”

you can feel a rush of air leave chris at his relief. “oh good. i thought it was about the fritos. they're not all for me, you know.” you laugh, the tears quickly being forgotten as he wipes away the traces of them on your cheeks.

“how about we cuddle and watch a movie?” you nod, getting comfortable on the couch and grabbing a blanket for the both of you to share. “sounds good to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder and pick a movie. he gently tilts your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips just as the movie begins.

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cherryredstars · 11 months ago

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parent!reader waking up one day, entering the kitchen and seeing dad!miguel taking care of their 6 month old baby while he fixes breakfast for the two of them because he didn’t want to wake them up so they could get some rest, and then just absolutely getting the worst baby fever known to man, because why wouldn’t you if that’s what you were waking up to every day 🤭🤭 that is all

(also thank you for all your hard work, you are single-handedly sustaining me and I need you to know that 🥹❤️)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Wanting More Children

Summary: Early mornings with baby babbling and chocolate chips.

A/N: This request is so cutesy!!! Thank you for sending it in, love!!

Word Count: 930

Why is it so bright?

A deep groan leaves your lips as your eyes squint against the beam of sunlight coming through your window. You sigh deeply as you turn over, grumbling into your pillow and closing your eyes again. You can feel your body beginning to melt back into the mattress when you hear something clatter to the ground. On instinct, your arms push your body up as alarms start ringing in your head. Your head feels woozy from home quickly you moved, but your eyes are frantic as you look around the room. The nerve-endings firing throughout your body calm within the next second, the sound of watery baby laughter filling your room from outside. A smile forms on your face when hurried hushing follows, which only makes the laughter louder.

Slower this time, you push yourself up and out of bed. You shiver the moment your feet hit the cold wood flooring, letting out a breath. For a moment you debate on making the bed, but the sound of pans and baby clapping convinces you to save it for later. You walk towards the bedroom door, and the second you open it the smell of batter hits you. Your stomach growls in response, saliva gathering in your mouth as you open the door further and walk out and into the hallway. The further down you walk, the closer the sound of kitchen clutter and baby babbling becomes.

The moment you emerge from the hallway, you can feel the way your heart expands. You lean against the entrance, crossing your arms with a smile on your face as you take in the sight. Your baby girl babbles nonsense to her dad, kicking in her highchair with half-eaten mini chocolate chip pancakes on her tray. On the floor is a missed spot of syrup, and guessing by the discarded baby bowl on the counter, the noise from before was her playing around. Your husband stands at the stove, a mess of pancake batter, fruits, and chocolate on the counter besides him. You don't know why the man needs so many butter knives and bowls to make pancakes, but you let him do his thing since he's the one cleaning them. He responds to your baby with oh's and aw's, pouring batter into the pan and flipping it with a spatula after a few minutes.

You're content to watch the scene forever, but your baby has other plans. Sensing your presence, your baby turns to you, her already there smile growing larger at the sight of you. Her hands slap down on her tray in excitement, happy babbles leaving her. You can't help but laugh, making your way over to her and picking her up the moment she makes grabby hands at you. Her hands are slightly sticky from syrup, but you've grown used to it, already knowing you'll be showering later. Her hands come to your face, cupping each of your cheeks as she gives you a smile. You smile back, giving her a surprised face before laughing at her elated reaction.

Her eyes shift slightly away from your face, moving to something behind you. It's the only warning you get before large arms wrap around your waist. Messy curls brush against your chin as warm breath fans your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your skin and pleasant shivers run up your spine. You turn your head and smile at the sight of Miguel.

"Hey, handsome," you greet, adjusting your baby on your hip so you can run a hand through Miguel's hair. He hums against your skin, placing one last kiss before pulling his head away from your neck.

"We didn't wake you, did we?" He asks softly, his arms unraveling around your waist until his hands are planted on your hips. You shake your head, turning back to your daughter and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She lights up at the action, babbling and trying to replicate the noise. It causes both you and Miguel to chuckle, and you melt into his chest.

Miguel has a large smile on his face when you turn to him, love clearly shining in his eyes. When he looks down at you, that look on his face softens. He leans down and you smile against his lips when he kisses you. Even after having a kid together and being in a relationship with him for so long, you can feel the butterflies pinging against the lining of your stomach.

"Thank you for making breakfast."

Miguel smiles back, shrugging. He reaches his arm out, taking hold of the corner of your darling girl's bib and wiping away a bit of drool running from her mouth. "Anything for the two of you."

You don't think your heart has ever been more full. You turn to him, opening your mouth to say something when you pause. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. "I think... your pancakes are burning."

Miguel eyes widen and he curses, ignoring your scandalized gasp and reminder that the baby is present as he rushes to the stove. Your baby simply laughs at her father, clapping her hands. You can't help but join in, shaking your head as you watch Miguel scrape burnt pancake batter off the bottom of the pan. He throws you both a playful glare, sticking his tongue out for his daughter's amusement.

As you take in the scene, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind expanding your little family. Maybe your heart has a little room left to be filled.

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dwaekkicidal · 8 months ago

Text

The Party

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Fourth part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, alcohol consumption (reader gets "drunk" and ji had a few sips), dubcon/noncon, exhibitionism, mean-ish jisung, degradation, name calling (use of whore and ji calls reader a stupid cry baby once lol), nipple play (f), grinding, cumming in underwear (both), Jisung carries reader on his back at the end

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :)

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han stares up in awe at the giant house before him. It’s in a rich neighborhood not far out of town and he easily recognizes the expensive and shiny cars as belonging to some of the well-off kids. They flaunt them everywhere so it’s hard not to recognize them.

He glances down at his text messages, rereading the instructions you sent while nervously fiddling with the collar of his leather jacket. She said just to let myself in… He slowly walks up the walkway of the house, laughing to himself in disbelief at how loud the music is being played. He could hear it loud and clear from inside the damn taxi.

When he finally gets to the porch he sends you a text and opens the door hesitantly, only opening it a few inches to squeeze in without bringing too much attention to him. Once he closes the door and turns, his jaw drops. The inside is huge and has at least 50 people in the living room alone, let alone to giant crowd he can see in the kitchen and hallways. A familiar head pokes out of the kitchen and rushes towards him, a big smile on his face.

Han recognizes the boy as Yeonjun, a tall guy who he used to have dance class with in high school, and who shares a few mutual friends. He smiles back, waving shyly as the boy takes long strides up to him. “Yo!! Han! Nice to see you, man. Y/N told me you were coming but I didn’t think I’d see it haha.” Han chuckles and nods, “I didn’t think I was gonna come either, but she asked so...”

Yeonjun wraps an arm around his neck and leads him around the house, giving him a small tour as they seek out the girl in question together. The taller boy stops occasionally at little tables with snacks and drinks, making sure Han is taken care of before marching onwards in search of those bouncy pigtails. The kindness is more than welcome but Jisung is far from his comfort zone and can't help but chat timidly. He was going to give up and attempt to call her, but suddenly he heard a squeal from his left.

He turns in time to see Y/N running up to him, dressed up in all white and somehow showing more skin than usual. Her shirt parts in multiple places, showing off her cleavage and some side boob as well as her tummy. And no bra..? Is she nuts? His eyes flicker to the thin string that holds the top together and he can feel his eye twitch.

A hand on his shoulder cuts him out of his trance, almost making him fall from the sudden weight. Yeonjun leans in and chuckles, lowly whispering to Han as if anybody could hear them over the music. “She already had a few cups so good luck. If you thought she was touchy before, you can’t imagine how she gets when she drinks.” Han’s eyes widen at the warning, but before he has time to ask what he meant Yeonjun is already gone. The feeling of a body clutching onto his arm has him turning back the opposite way, taking in the rest of her features as she mumbles words at him.

“My goshh~ I didn’t think you’d actually come, Sungie... ‘Missed you soooo much. hehe...” He chuckles and cringes, not sure how to respond. However, he’s not even given a chance to because she starts dragging him down the hallway to the game room where some of her friends are grouped.

About 3 hours pass before Jisung finally settles in, still very uncomfortable but slowly opening up to some of the people there. Y/N had a cup and a half more before everybody began sneaking her water meanwhile Jisung was still on his first cup, only having taken a few sips. He’s too busy zoned out and staring at the floor to realize that they’re almost alone, his mind too busy over the white lace garter that decorates the thigh of his love interest. He’s leaning back on one of the leather couches in the game room, and aside from the few random people who are spread around busy playing their games, or sucking each other's faces, it’s fairly vacant.

Then the song blasting throughout the house suddenly changes to a new one. A slow sensual one that, if he wasn’t so preoccupied, would’ve made him uncomfortable from the sheer seductiveness of it. But this poor little emo boy only realizes once it’s too late: once two hands covered by those familiar white arm warmers rest on his lower tummy. He tenses up and his face darts up to stare at the girl, almost offendedly. Even from this distance, he can smell the sugary sweet sangria on her breath and, for once in his life, the idea of her touching him makes him uneasy.

Y/N smiles, bites her lip, and crawls on top of him, planting a knee on either side of his hips. She leans in until their noses almost touch and Han has half the mind to back away as much as possible. But she only pushes further until she's almost completely pressed up against him. Her hips press down and she looks up at him from under her eyelashes.

His hard-on is resting perfectly against her mound. There’s no way she doesn’t feel that. His brain fries and he stutters out her name in confusion, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders to hold her back. She ignores him completely in favor of slowly running her hands up his stomach and to his chest, pulling the chain around his neck so that he leans into her.

She giggles at his reaction and lowers her hands onto his, pushing them back and lower to rest on her ass, where she then leaves them and wraps her hands around his neck. Those glossy lips of hers are caught between her teeth as she leans into him, her voice low and seductive. “Sungie~” He doesn’t try to move his hands, why would he? He’s enjoying himself. But he does slightly freak out at the thought of people walking in and seeing a freak like him groping the hottest girl on the planet. “What are you doing?!” He looks around the room to make sure there are no prying eyes but her smooth voice drags his attention back to her.

“C’mon~~ Don’t you think I'm pretty?” Her flushed cheeks are almost unnoticeable in the dim lighting but boy does he see it. Their lips ghost and he feels his dick twitch in his jeans when he feels some of her lip gloss get transferred to him. Fuck. I was doing so well today too… “Don’t you want me?” Her voice lowers with each word until she’s whispering against his lips, finally pushing her own against his. His heart beats out of his chest but he lets his eyes close and his hands move up to her waist as he reciprocates the kiss. Her tongue pokes out in an attempt to deepen the kiss and he reluctantly lets it happen. His head spins when their tongues clash and he finds himself losing control when her lip gloss smudges all over their chins. Holy shit... She tastes like strawberries...

Eventually, they pull away to breathe but she wastes no time and dips down to his neck, leaving sloppy kisses along his Adam's Apple as she mumbles incoherent sentences against it. If the slurring of her words wasn’t enough to discourage him, the recalling of his earlier conversation was. The uneasy feeling from earlier is quickly forgotten when Yeonjun’s voice replays in his head. His hand roughly digs into her hair and pulls her away so that she’s sitting up straight. The moan it pulls from her only makes him harder.

“You know… Yeonjun warned me about how touchy you are when you drink. You do this with every man you get your little hands on?” He whispers against her ear. “N-No only for you, Sungie. I promise~” She pouts and he narrows his eyes at her, not believing it for even a second. “Yeah? Then why does he seem so familiar with how you’re acting right now? You probably whore out every time they have one of these parties. Am I supposed to be your next victim?” Hell. I don’t think I’d even mind being a victim to her.

She whimpers and frowns, shaking her head rapidly and unintentionally rubbing herself harder against his hard-on. He closes his eyes to focus on breathing; while this newfound confidence is nice, he doesn’t think it’s enough to push any further than this, so he just doesn’t respond. Instead choosing to stay quiet and let his other hand squeeze the fat of her thighs, engraving the feeling in his mind. Who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? Might as well take advantage of it too... He knows he shouldn’t. She’s drunk for fucks sake! But GOD does she look so good like this... On my lap, all desperate for me.

The hold on her hair is loosened as he lets his hands roam all over her body. They start at her thighs: running his fingers over the flesh there softly before flattening his palms against her ass and squeezing them, spreading them apart in the process. He glances up at her shutting eyes and nodding head, thinking to himself for a second as he mindlessly fondles her ass. He wonders just how far he can get before she sobers up. She’s gonna fucking hate me... But also, she looks so drunk that she might not even notice. OR remember for that matter.

With every passing second he feels his morals fading away until he eventually decides that today is the day he gives no fucks. Let her find out. Fuck it. His hands move up to her hips again and pull her down, dragging her clothed pussy over his bulge like she was doing earlier. She sighs and closes her eyes all the way, spreading her knees to allow him to pull her farther down. He bites his lip and looks around, staring intensely at the last 2 people in the room who were too busy sucking each other’s faces off to notice his actions. A whimper of his name pulls his attention back to the girl above him. His hooded eyes meet hers as she stares down at him, the neediness painfully obvious. He smirks and tilts his head, playing dumb as she starts to move her hips on her own again.

“Hmm? What’s wrong Y/N?” His hands trail down her thighs and he licks his lips as he stares down at them. His pointer finger and thumb rub the fabric of her lace garter as he waits patiently for her to respond. When she doesn’t he pulls the elastic back, letting it snap against her soft skin there. It pulls a delayed squeak from her and he continues to smirk cockily. The hand moves back up and plays with the hem of her skirt. He can faintly see the dark colored panties she has on and he’s itching to see it. He glances up to see her eyes fluttering open and closed again. She won’t notice...

Then he grabs the fabric and pushes it up against her tummy. He holds it there as he peeks between her legs, watching her pretty panties soak more and more as she pushes down more against him. Her pretty, red panties. You fucking whore.. The hand resting on her ass rises and comes down, slapping the bare flesh there meanly and pulling a shriek from her. “You planned this shit, didn’t you? Asked me for my favorite color just to wear some slutty panties to entice me?” And they’re fucking sheer again. She looks down at him with watery eyes and whines, placing her hand on his shoulder as her hips continue to move. The silence that follows is all the answer he needs.

He snakes his right hand up her body, stopping at her chest and pinching her nipples through the thin fabric. “Stupid little crybaby... Slutting yourself out for anybody who will give you the time of day.” The hand comes down on her ass again and her hips falter. “Did I say you could stop?” Her head rolls and she continues instantly; he can feel her obedience awakening something new in him.

His right hand slides through the top hole of her shirt to grab a handful of her boob, squeezing it as he leans in. He licked her other nipple through the fabric, sucking and nibbling it as her hips continued to rut against him. Eventually, though, the fabric was preventing him from feeling her up properly and it irritated him to no end. The alcohol in his system tells him to rip it open, but the sober side of him shuts the idea down instantly, so he grabs the top string of her shirt, pulling it roughly and freeing her chest to the cold air in the game room. She gasps and tries to cover herself with her arms but he grabs both of her wrists before she can. “Don’t even think about it. You wanted to act like a whore so I'm treating you like one.” He pushed her arms out of the way and grabbed handfuls of her chest with both hands, aggressively massaging the mounds of fat as if proving his point.

He leans back in, releasing the death-grip on one of her boobs and wrapping those pretty pink lips around her bare nipple. His now free hand moves to her ass, slapping the skin before grabbing her hip and grinding her harder against him. Her hands trail into his hair, grabbing handfuls and tugging it as she moans loudly. “S-Sungie! Ahh~” Her sweet voice crying out his name was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge, and the hands in his hair gripped tighter as she came with him, both of their faces scrunching up in pleasure as he continued to move her hips against him and lick her nipple.

Eventually, they both finish riding out their highs and she sleepily wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face in the crook of his neck. He let her stay there as he caught his breath, hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly. He very quickly hears soft snores coming from her and gets up, laying her softly on the couch as he does so. Standing in the same place she was just 10 minutes ago gives him the perfect view to stare down at her, mind boggled at the way she still looks so hot despite being completely ruined.

Her lip gloss was smeared all over the lower part of her face and her lips themselves were swollen and red. Her shirt was still spread wide open, letting anybody who walked in see her pretty tits. His eyes traced the red marks he left against the pudgy skin there as her chest rose and fell with her breaths. Her one nipple had a pretty red tint on it from his insistent suckling. Her skirt hung loosely around her waist, rising with each breath and giving him the perfect view of her panties that were now darkened from her cum. Now I get to see it in real-time.. haha…

Pride filled his chest as the realization hit that he did this. Not Yeonjun. Not Juwon. Not one of those stupid ass frat boys. Me. The post-nut clarity and sudden soberness were almost enough to send him spiraling as another realization filled his head. The realization of what these emotions meant. Feeling jealousy at the thought of other guys touching her and happiness at the feeling of being the one to make her cum in her little red panties. Before he could dwindle further, the girl whined from her spot on the couch before yawning loudly and stretching. Then her sleepy voice filled his ears, “‘Wanna go home Sungie..”

By the time he fixes her outfit, she's fast asleep. Jisung puts her on his back and piggybacks her through the hallways and down the stairs. As the sole of his boots landed on the expensive tile, he quickly realized that nobody was around. The previously packed living room and kitchen were now left in a giant mess and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He had so many questions but opted to ignore them for now and adjusted the girl on his back, inching her farther up so that he didn’t drop her.

As he stepped onto the front porch, he was met with a familiar face. Yeonjun cackled out loud at the sight of them, startling the boy and almost waking the sleeping beauty on his back. “You guys are still here? I thought you took her home ages ago??” Yeonjun smiled at him, watching Han breathe deeply to calm the heart attack that he almost had. “Just take her to your house, man. None of her roommates are going home tonight so she’ll be locked out if you go to her place.”

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at the taller boy, “Are... Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she trusts you. And would you rather her sleep in your bed or her apartment hallway where anybody could take advantage of her?” Jisung visibly gulps and nods silently, pushing past the taller boy to meet the taxi that slowly pulled up behind him. He settles her in carefully, almost lovingly, and walks to the opposite side to join her in the back seat. He waved awkwardly at Yeonjun, who watched them and waved with a menacing smile on his face.

As Yeonjun waved them away he smirked to himself. “That little minx... She’s got him wrapped around her finger haha.”

Taglist: (purple=can't be tagged)

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

@easypeezylemonsquezy @iiriam @soaplickerrr @kimahreummm

@seungfl0wer @4l17h4 @moonlightshostage @whyisaah

@lostgirlinthewoodss @kookiesbunny @piscesrising01 @adollsmind

@iheartbangch4n @evan-rose @klyde06 @ihrtlino @shuporanporang

@zerefdragn33l @sailor--sun

#sian’s writing #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader smut #skz x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung x reader smut #han jisung imagines #han smut #han x reader #han x reader smut #han imagines #'The Incidents' Series

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amorchai · 7 months ago

Note

MORNINGS WITH FINNICK 🙁☹️☹️☹️ like he’s all sleepy and cutesy and he pulls you closer in his sleep?? does that make sense??

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊.

pairing(s): husband!finnick odair x victor!reader

words: 363

warnings/tags: victor!reader, husband!finnick, physical affection + just pure pure fluff.

you truly felt you never got time to relax when it came to being a victor married to a victor, stuck on a train every year there was a new game.

but after a long day of returning to district four, you awoke the next morning to the sound of chirping birds and not the white noise of a train. you hummed in contentment, the morning sun entering through the thin blinds of your shared house as finnick’s warm and tanned arm sat across your frame.

it was a day to relax. after so long you could spend the whole day doing nothing with finnick, your favourite way to kill time.

you were thirsty, and reluctantly decided to pry finnick’s arm from your frame to quickly walk to the kitchen and have some water. however, your husband had other plans, his arm heavier than usual as he groans in disagreement.

“baby, i’m thirsty.”

“i wish i didn’t care…” replied finnick, muffled into the pillow as he lays on his stomach. his dirty blonde strands laid messily against the pillowcase making him look even more angelic than usual.

he hesitantly lets you go, and you try to be quick but by the time you return he’s emitting quiet snores in his sleep, arm sprawled out in the empty space as he had tried to await your return.

you hold his arm as you slide back in beside him, letting it drop against your stomach as you cosy back into the warm sheets, still tired and ready to sleep until you want.

just as you get comfortable, finnick breathes deeply, rustling in his sleep to move onto his side. pulling you closer as he slept until his face nestles into your neck, warm breaths fanning your skin as squeezed your side. even in his sleep finnick’s thumb lightly rubs your bare hip, finding its way under your top and you find your eyes aching to fall asleep again. “honey,” finnick murmurs it incoherently and you chuckle, kissing his forehead messed with blonde curls to show him you’re there before allowing yourself to fall back asleep with his warm arm keeping you as close as possible.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ⁑ finnick odair ໒꒱#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #thg

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deadghosy · 1 year ago

Note

DUUUDE OMG as someone who had a HUGE creepypasta phase I'm obsessed with your hazbin hotel x creepypasta reader fics omggg

Anywaysss could I possibly request a Hazbin Hotel x Sally Williams reader? Completely platonic obviously :)

HAZBIN HOTEL X SALLY WILLIAMS! READER

prompt: a small child with a bloody body accidentally visits the hotel of a cartoon she only saw once

“BENNN! I wanna be in a cartoon..” you says whining to Ben as you grip your teddy bear. Ben rubs his chin thinking then smirks. “What kinda cartoon?” “One with friendship! Like My little pony.” You said with an adorable smile. “What about a better cartoon…” Ben said with a evil smile

And now you are now in the cartoon called Hazbin hotel as you just stood there sobbing at not seeing ponies. Where’s fluttershy? Where rarity? AND WHERE THE HELL IS TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

You must have caused a bad scene as Alastor had took your hand and brought you to the hotel for shelter. You told the “nice” man your friend made you come here making Alastor think you got killed by someone. But what’s a child like you doing here?…..

When the whole crew met you, they found you adorable but they were concerned on why a child, most likely a “human” child like you is in hell.

You have a room next to the next lesbian couple. After they cleaned you and having you wear shoes..which didn’t go well so they let you wear a new pair of white socks as you wore a cute pink dress.

Vaggie felt something about you was off. But she felt like heaven had not let you in. So she didn’t press any farther.

Angel gives you fat nuggets because he trusts you to look after him as he works. He never told you what he does for work but you enjoy keeping fat nuggets some company.

You dressed fat nuggets up as a pig princess. Angel found it cute and funny as he took a photo of it to remember the memory forever.

The most to baby you is definitely the Morningstars and Alastor a little bit. As Alastor felt to protect when he first seen you. He always tells you to smile at most to not let anyone see what’s underneath.

Alastor takes you on strolls at times. Even taking you to cannibal town where you can meet his dearest friend. Rosie, an overlord who takes on the cannibal town.

Rosie absolutely adores you! She called you sweetie pie all the time you visit her with Alastor.

I imagine you gave husk ponytails as he just grumbled drinking. He didn’t feel the need to scold you, you’re just a kid. Kids don’t know no better.

You and husk’s dynamic is “drunk uncle x pretty pink princess kid”

Husk hates to admit it but he likes your presence as you help him clean. Although he tries to tricks you to not clean the glasses so you won’t cut yourself.

Lucifer definitely tries to take care of you how he did for Charlie and it’s so wholesome as he would bring you ducks to your room that across of his.

He is such a overprotective father figure-

Angel and you have such cute fashion shows together as you both dress up like princesses💗

I headcannon that Charlie and Lucifer would spoil you rotten like getting you cute dresses or whatever you want as long as you are happy.

I can see that if it was your birthday, it’s as if Christmas and a birthday was combined as you get so much gifts😭

Niffty definitely teaches you how to clean as she always wanted to teach someone how to clean without ignoring her.

I can imagine you trying to contact Ben somehow as Ben is being interrogated back at the mansion as slenderman is chasing Ben with a pan demanding where you are at.

Sir Pentious lets you In on his machine shenanigans as you just smile with the egg boiz who hold your hands.

You showed your teddy bear to Lucifer who cooed at you as he made you a duck that had bear ears..you were weirded out at first but appreciated it. It was nice to get gifts! 💗

I headcannon you like greeting the residents in the hotel as they greet you back not excepting to se an actual human child in the hotel

I can see Angel dust having Velvette make cutesy outfits for you as he likes to see you as a little sister.

I can imagine you just doing that evil ass child laugh to scare the residents…you little ass menace

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reveluving · 9 months ago

Text

heartburn ; the ghoul x reader

summary: kindness gets people killed in the wasteland, and yet, cooper can't help it when it's you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), pre-war performer/entertainer!reader (for your creativity!); now an immortal ‘smoothskin’, soft as hell but our lovely ghoul is still a loud mouth, age gap but not really (think of him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but both in 200-ish years old), typical fallout violence & explicit language, loads of banter & fluff!

a/n: it’s here! based on this because the brain rot was (and is) so real. decided to call this the ‘la rouge series’, just to make it easier for tagging and when any lil’ pieces/asks come in. hope you guys enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

» smut includes: possessive soft & slightly mean dom!cooper, ‘pretty girl’ & baby as pet names, dirty talk i.e. + about exhibitionism (it doesn’t happen tho!), body appreciation, nipple play, spanking, fingering, a bit of edging/teasing, unprotected s~ex (p in v), bits of aftercare but overall, coop likes it nasty.

'It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.' ;

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the sheen of perspiration building up along your body, despite the cooler night, albeit marginally as opposed to the day. Had it not been for the ceiling fan, no matter how slow it gets once in a while, you were indebted to its existence.

Especially at this exact moment, throwing your head and watching the contraption spin above you as Cooper bucked up into you.

Lucy had dozed off, you checked an hour prior, finding her asleep in the old guestroom when you stopped by. Maximus, too, snoring away on the wingback chair next to her. Whether it was because you entered with light steps or the duo were bone-tired, you had successfully spread the thin sheets over their figures before turning the table lamp off—all of which Cooper watched behind the door, feeling an overwhelming emotion brewing in him.

You barely knew them, hell, he was there when you shot Lucy a chilling look, realizing she was the daddy’s girl, but beyond that, you also saw two souls who were… lost. A set of strangers who wanted nothing more than to do the good thing, even if you didn't agree with their beliefs. And yet, the old caring nature in you couldn’t help but offer at least some form of appreciation for their humanity.

You held yourself back when Lucy babbled, even if—when you wanted nothing more than to cuss her father out. You didn’t lash out when she asked about your time in the shelters way before her mother was around. You acknowledged Maximus’s good intentions, even if they were a little gullible.

Cooper noticed it all, and fuck, if your unmoveable kindness wasn’t disgustingly the sweetest and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It all felt like a typical romance movie after that, when you crossed paths in the living room, with you on your way to the kitchen when he stopped you. Delicately (and uncharacteristically, you might add) holding your wrist and tugging you to his chest to stare into your dreamy eyes. How a smile naturally bloomed on your face as you reached for his jaw. He indulged in your cutesy behaviour, as he always does, angling his head to kiss your palm while your eyes remained locked. It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.

Not that you couldn’t handle them, if anything, putting him in his place wasn’t unheard of—you knew how to shut him up with that aura of yours from time to time.

But make no mistake; he knew how to get you tongue-tied, too.

He dipped his head, and the kiss that came was nasty. Swallowing your little gasp when he took hold of your jaw.

“Here?” You whispered incredulously between giggles when he led you to the couch. All he gave you was a grunt, falling back into the seat and pulling you with him. Your legs snugged around his as he encouraged you to sit, not hover him. The soft tune that played in the kitchen reminded you of a scene out of a cheesy porno from your old days, and when he hummed along, you knew he had the same thoughts, too.

“It's our house,” He grinned, “Means our rules.”

“Uh-huh,” You humoured, amused as you shook your head, but the use of ‘our’ did send butterflies to your stomach, “Mind elaborating, handsome?”

He explained all-too-happily, “It means y'got every right throw y'guests t’the doghouse if they start yappin’ ‘bout indecency.”

You say that now, but you knew he would shoot one in between their eyes for ogling you clothed, let alone in your glory. He has done it before.

Countless times.

But you’d kick him to the doghouse if he ever got blood on your floors. And just to piss him off further, you’d allow Dogmeat to sleep on the bed with you.

“You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?” I snorted.

His eyes lit up, taking your words as a green light, “Y'offerin’?”

You smacked his chest. “I know your games, cowboy. Room’s not far, y’know?”

“Aww, c'mon,” Calloused fingertips traced up your legs before slipping under the skirt, alternating between kneading and smacking your ass repeatedly to hear your squeaks, “When's the last time y'and I messed ‘round in the livin’ room?”

“Just last week.” You huffed, partially from the way his hips rolled against yours.

With any lack of action and the undeniably warmer weather throughout the day, you thought it was time to enjoy the night breeze with a slit skirt. The hems were slightly burnt off from past confrontations, involving a near-fatal experience with a Molotov cocktail, but besides that, it was relatively intact.

And just like you, it was Cooper’s favourite piece, too.

“Mm,” He acknowledged with a grunt, “Far too long t’me.”

He leaned back, arms spread across the backrest while looking at you expectantly

“Y’gon’ take it off f’me or…?” He asked. You rolled your eyes—as if you could ever refuse him.

But you couldn’t just give it to him, right?

You sat back, poised and coy, toying with him when you gazed up at him through your lashes. In the mood to give him a little show as it seemed like your guests were going to stay out cold for a while.

You were definitely teasing him when you popped the buttons of your shirt, only to let it droop around your elbows, just enough to get a glimpse of your cleavage and pesky black bra.

Reaching over, you dragged your index finger from his Adam’s apple, down to the collar. His overcoat long gone for your convenience, uncovering his chest without problems.

He was always intrigued, and if he was being honest, in disbelief by your fascination—by your need to have him unclothed in some form of way, despite his condition. The wariness grew over time, and he had not only relished it in but encouraged you for it, too.

Bunching up and pushing your skirt to the side, his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He sighed, feeling the patch of wetness that soaked through the fabric. He was excited as you were, eager to feel you against him as he shifted under you.

He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on his middle finger sloppily and groaning at your taste before dipping them under your panties. He straightened, pulling you forward by the back of your head as he prodded a finger into you. The position had you arching, chest to chest as he forced you to moan in his ear.

At your mewls, he was more than content to give you another, sinking his ring finger in bit by bit to feel you clench desperately.

He revelled in the warmth, the tightening of your warm walls as if fearing he'd pull out. The more you felt him curl inside you, the more useless it was to muffle your cries. The embarrassing squelch didn’t help either, but how couldn’t you, with that romantic stunt he pulled moments ago?

He tapped on your hips, silently requesting you to hold yourself up for a moment while he shoved his pants down. His cock stood with pride, twitching at the cool air and the anticipation to feel what his digits were feeling.

Pushing your panties to the side, he lined up the head of his cock to your pussy. He was practically dreaming of feeling you sink onto him at once, already bucking his hips to fill you to the hilt. Instead, you took him in ever so slowly, bit by bit before raising your hips till there was nothing more than the tip of him in you. Taking him in little by little as he teased you with his fingers.

“Y'tryin’ t’kill me?” He gritted out.

“You can handle it.” You cooed back, already losing composure as you felt up his chest.

He groaned, eyeing you dangerously only to shudder when your thighs slammed against his. You felt full, hell, you were full, needing a moment as your fingernails dug into his skin.

“Fuuuck,” He groaned, tipping his head back though forcing himself not to close his eyes to watch your tits bounce as you moved faster, “Look at y'go. Yeah, ride m’cock, pretty girl. Juuust like that.”

His praises had you pulsing around him, but so did his desperation. Slowing down once again to feel him buck under you.

But there was also something else about tonight.

Familiarity was putting his feelings lightly, unable to tear his eyes off as images of the same smile, maybe just a tad more innocent about the world, flashed before his eyes. Remembering his lucky encounters with you when you were both stars. When the two of you had dreams. When your worries at the time were nothing more than bringing joy to the people who watched you perform like you had hung the moon.

He could never forget admiring you and your artistry, similar to how you marvelled at his productions in awe, even after when they were nothing more than a man on a horseback before it all went to hell.

And to have him before you once more, albeit a bigger menace than you thought was possible, he was still your Cooper Howard.

Your cheekiness was wiped off when his hand dropped to your ass with a sharp smack, the slap drowning out the radio for a split second.

“‘Y'had your fun.” He growled. His hands held onto you so desperately, similar to the way you grappled onto his shoulders for support.

Your button-up was sticking to your skin just below your breasts, and as much as Cooper loved the little striptease, he wanted more.

He pulled the article further down by your sleeves, where you shuddered at the feeling of Cooper’s lips latching onto your skin. The sensation rough as he nipped at your rib. He surged forward, salivating as he sucked and tugged on your nipple. He let out a heady groan, tasting a hint of salt while rigorously bouncing you up and down his cock.

You were what pin-ups couldn’t emulate, what poets or authors couldn’t convey with mere words.

Anyone, surface dwellers and vaulties alike wished they could have you.

He crept one hand in between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. He didn’t relent when you trembled, when you tightened as you came hard. Not even when you spasm, overstimulated when he continued to thrust in and out of you.

He held you down longer than you would've liked, too obsessed with the way your walls fluttered around him. Begging for some form of friction as you clamped him like a vice. The mewls that followed were music to his ears, frustrated in the cutest way when he did nothing more than flash you an infuriating smile.

A tight one, you noticed. Unable to hide his own need for long as your juices dripped down to his thighs. He was… a little sick in the head—who would’ve thought—abstaining himself from chasing the high for just a moment, just to amp up the pleasure and feel his desperation sated as if he finally deserved the ‘treat’.

“Coop…” You mewled, nearly choking on your spit as his iron-clad grip forced you to feel each and every ridge of him up to the brim, “Coop–! Please! Please move, please—fuck.”

Oh, how cruel of him to deny you. Especially when you sang for him so sweetly.

You raised your head, lips parted as his eyes bored into your teary ones. Even when you became lost in your lustful haze, only able to churn out nothing but his name as hushed moans, he couldn’t miss the small dazed smile flickering across your face.

He couldn’t resist, reaching up to brush across the pads of your plush lips. And as hooked as you were over the proximity, you placed your hand over his, keeping it on your cheek.

Your eyes screamed for him to go faster, to put you out of your misery. He pitied you to some degree when he rolled his hips.

“That too much? No, y'can take it. M'pretty girl can take what I give.”

“Gonna fuckin’ come in’ya, y’hear me?”

“Oh, you’re tearin’ up, feels really good, doesn’t it, baby?”

He slammed you down as soon as he came, thighs sticky and flushed. His grinds slowed down, chest heaving till he had his last spurts of cum in you. He traced his hands along the bruising spots he had left on your hips, then up your sides, tickling you.

The corner of his lips twitched at your tired giggle, catching your breath with your face pressed against his shoulder.

“Y’liked that?” He matched your amusement, reaching over the dry towel conveniently draped on the arm of the couch and wiping off the sweat dripping down your back.

“Mmm.” You hummed into his skin, already comfortable against him.

“Y’really liked it,” He reiterated, finding your playful eye-roll worth it, casually dragging the cloth under your chin and the area between your breasts before tossing it to the side. He let one arm outstretched on the backrest, “Y’need some water or somethin’?” You thought for a moment; you’d need a sip or two after all that, but you could hold it off for a few minutes.

“In a bit,” You returned to snuggling in his arms, much to his satisfaction, “Can't you just carry me to bed?”

“I would, but…” He trailed off. You followed his line of sight when it fell to his lap, not only reminding you of the mess but also if he stood up, well, you might as well fall with him if his pants dropped to his ankles. You knew he could clean you up and buckle his pants before carrying you to your room with no problem, he just didn’t feel like it.

And, well, you understood him.

“Fine,” You sighed, feigning resignation even though a little smile was playing on your lips. You knew each other too well, “But if I hear rushed footsteps or that girl yapping about ‘my eyes’, I blame you.”

“Not the first time you’ve ever blamed me for anythin’—m’poor ol’ heart,” He pretended to weep, placing a hand on his chest, only to catch yours when you tried to smack him for it, “See? Unloved, by m’own girl.”

You shared a laugh, and when he pulled his rest on your waist once more, you knew none of you were going anywhere.

In minutes, you were finally able to take in your surroundings, recognizing the chorus playing in the background, a classic of Dean Martin’s, one that even Cooper couldn’t help but hum to. It was soft, no more than within your hearing range, even bobbing his head to the beat. You followed, too, and to your surprise, the two of you coincidentally sang a particular line together.

♫ Your love made it well worth waiting ♫

♫ For someone like you ♫

You turned your head to head to the side before he could look at you after spotting the knowing smile he was sporting. And as the song came to an end, eyes droopy as he instinctively rubbed your back, his hat tipped down.

You couldn’t help it, craning your neck and planting one final kiss, to which he eagerly returned before your bodies melded into each other once more. Relaxed and protected from the dangers outside your safe haven, even for just a moment. So long as both of you were still breathing, you’d take the bull by its rotting horns in stride.

♫ Everybody loves somebody sometime ♫

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: fun fact! ignoring the fact that the concept of the game is inspired by the 50s and burlesques would no longer be as famous then, one of the many entertainer options I imagine for the reader (depending on the fic) is burlesque (?) dancer, which very much inspired this piece! not necessarily as her job in the old days but someone who knows a thing or two about it! but again, as the reader, you have the right to imagine whoever you or your mc however you’d like! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

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singmyaubade · 2 months ago

Note

My cat was just hit by a motorbike and heavily injured, I can't afford to take him to the vet, so for the past few days I've been taking care of him, I just need a little comfort, a fluff James Potter fanfic maybe?

that sounds awful, i’m so sorry you’re going through this. i really hope your sweet cat heals quickly, and i’ll be sending you all my prayers/thoughts to help you through this.

if there’s any way i can help, let me know, i’d love to help spread the word (venmo, cashapp, whatever works) if that could help. in the meantime, i’d be happy to write you that james potter fluff — you deserve some comfort right now. sending you so much love <3

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

bf!james potter x gf!emale!reader

summary: well, don't you wanna wrap me up and mistle touch under the tree?

warnings :p : pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

You and James had one of the weirdest problems when it came to your relationship.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Not always in a sexual way, but more of a nurturing one.

It was common in most couples, but you and James just couldn’t seem to separate, no matter how much your friends begged.

Whether it was sitting on his lap in the common room with the rest of your group, or wiping butterbeer off the corner of his mouth.

Or even rubbing lotion on him when he could’ve done it himself.

Truthfully, you and James would even cuddle on the hottest days if it meant touching each other.

It wasn’t intentional, and you hadn’t really noticed the habit until your friends pointed it out.

"You and James are bloody inseparable!" Marlene huffed, and Sirius agreed with a knowing smirk.

You scoffed, "That is so not true," You argued, shifting to sit on James’s lap right then and there on the couch in his parents’ lodge.

Remus snorted, which made you shoot him a glare as he nervously took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"It’s not that we totally hate it!" Lily tried to reason. "But it is constant," She added sheepishly.

Your mouth dropped open as you turned to Dorcas for help.

Dorcas shrugged, "I actually can’t argue with this one, Y/N, sorry," She pouted, crossing her arms as you leaned back into James’s chest.

"Yeah, I think you guys are just a bit jealous," James said, snuggling closer to your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You giggled at the ticklish feeling as Marlene gave you an 'I told you so' look. You quickly stood up from James’s lap.

"Fine!" You huffed, "Me and James won’t touch each other for the rest of the day!" You stuck your tongue out playfully, and James immediately looked like a kicked puppy.

"Wait, baby!" He whined. "That’s not the solution to this."

Sirius was enjoying this little bet way too much. "What are you willing to put down, M’lady?" He asked with a grin.

"James will give you 10 Galleons," You said confidently, standing tall.

James groaned loudly, "First, you bet not to touch me, and now you’re betting my money?" He pouted, reaching for you, but you moved just out of his reach.

"Jamesie," You whispered, leaning into his ear in that sultry, sweet voice you knew he couldn’t resist, "Do this for me to prove a point, and you’ll win a prize."

James’s pout disappeared in an instant, replaced by a grin as he stood up with you. "You got a deal!" He said as he looked at Sirius, shaking his hand.

"They won’t make it to the next hour," Marlene snorted, and Mary giggled at the sight of James already reaching out for you again.

Originally, you thought that you and James could get through this.

I mean, how hard could it be to not intentionally touch each other? It wasn’t like that was your only love language.

But every time James called you beautiful that afternoon, you just wanted to place kisses all over his face.

You had to do your best to resist, though.

So, when your friends decided to go on a snack run, you and James volunteered to bake snickerdoodle cookies together.

The group exchanged looks, clearly doubtful that you both could pull it off without touching each other.

"Yeah, no. You guys will definitely break the bet. We need eyes on you," Marlene snorted.

"Fine, leave Peter here. He’ll tell you if we do anything," You said with a matter-of-fact tone, while the rest of the group reluctantly agreed.

Peter shrugged, not exactly thrilled, but fine with the arrangement, as he settled onto the couch, giving him a clear view of you two in the kitchen.

And then, it had been an hour since the rest of the group left, and you and James weren’t doing that bad.

Other than a few accidental brushes, you both seemed pretty firm in sticking to the bet.

An hour in, and things were going surprisingly well. You and James were managing to bake the snickerdoodle cookies without breaking the bet—so far.

You carefully measured out the flour, while James cracked eggs with exaggerated precision, all the while glancing over at you.

“Y’know, I think I’m actually starting to like this challenge,” James said, his voice teasing but his eyes soft. “I get to look at you all day without touching you.. and it’s actually really hard.” He admitted at the end.

You smiled, biting your lip as you kept your hands busy stirring the dough. “I can see that,” You teased. “You’re practically eyeing me like I’m the last snickerdoodle on the planet.”

James grinned, but there was a hint of something more in his smile—something that made your chest feel a little too full. “Can’t help it, love. You look so beautiful when you bake. I just want to reach out and—” He cut himself off, faking a shiver. “It’s torture, I swear.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him as you took a quick glance at Peter. He was too engrossed in his show, completely oblivious to the playful tension between you and James.

"Too risky," You said with a teasing smile, glancing back at James. "But the reward can be the fabulous snickerdoodle cookies I bake for you."

James sighed dramatically, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed as if he were fighting the urge to pull you into him. “Reward? I don’t need a reward, I just need you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” You teased, giving him a pointed look, but your heart was racing.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? No kisses, no hugs, no little cuddles? What’s a guy to do?”

You leaned in just a little, your face inches from his as you whispered, “You’ll just have to settle for this.” You gave him a cheeky smile, unable to resist the playful glint in your eyes.

James's eyes followed your every movement, the air between you thick with unspoken words. His hands were gripping the counter tightly now like he was trying to resist pulling you closer. “I hate this,” He said softly, a frustrated smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to kiss you. You don’t even know how badly I want to.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had to force yourself to look away and focus on the dough. “We agreed, no touching. We’re doing just fine.”

James let out a dramatic groan. “You’re not helping,” He muttered. “Every time you look at me like that... I swear, I’m about to break the bloody bet myself.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. “I’m trying my best, James. It’s you who can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.”

“Well, if you’d stop looking at me like I’m the only person in the room, maybe I’d stand a chance.” His voice was teasing, but there was a sincerity behind it that made your chest tighten.

James was incredibly distracting in this position. It took almost everything in you not to close the distance between you two.

You sighed, moving back and trying to keep your distance as you added another spoonful of cinnamon to the dough. "You’re really making this difficult, aren’t you?"

"Absolutely," James said with a grin, leaning a little closer, though still careful not to cross that invisible line between you. "But I have a good reason. You’re ridiculously cute when you’re focused. And if I did touch you right now—"

You cut him off, putting your hand forward to create space, "Nope. Don’t even finish that sentence, Potter."

"Potter?" He pouted, using his puppy dog eyes, "You're wounding me baby."

You giggled at his playfulness, rolling your eyes. “One kiss,” You whispered, finally giving in to the tension between you two.

You quickly glanced over at Peter, relieved to find him completely engrossed in his cartoon show, blissfully unaware of rule-breaking a few feet away.

“Block me,” You said with a grin, giving James a slight push. He immediately moved closer, using his taller frame to shield you both from Peter's view.

James leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a quick, soft kiss. But before he could deepen it, you pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“Not so fast,” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

James pouted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re cruel.”

But you couldn’t help it—seeing him like this, wanting more, and knowing you couldn’t give it to him yet made you feel a little victorious.

Eventually, you forced James to continue baking, trying to keep both of you focused on the task at hand. Surprisingly, the cookies were actually making it to the oven despite the constant teasing and tension between the two of you.

James was working, but only half-heartedly—his eyes kept drifting to you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, like a soft tug at your chest. Every time you caught him looking at you, it made your heart skip a beat, but you couldn’t give in. Not yet.

Finally, you placed the last tray of cookies in the oven, breathing a sigh of relief. “We did it,” You said, glancing over at James, but before you could even finish the sentence, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his hand lightly grazing yours as he reached for the counter.

You both froze and for a split second, the world seemed to stop. His eyes locked with yours, dark and full of mischief.

"Just one more.." He whispered, taking a step closer. "You’re making it so hard, you know that?"

You could feel your heart racing, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t just about breaking the rules anymore. It was about him, and the way you couldn’t help but want to be closer, to feel the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips.

James leaned in, just a fraction of an inch, like he was waiting for you to stop him. And for a moment, you were ready to give in.

But then, you saw Peter's head turn just slightly from the corner of your eye. You both immediately snapped back, the distance between you instantly felt as painfully obvious as the rule you were both struggling to follow.

You sighed dramatically, stepping back, though your hand still hovered near his. "You really are impossible, James."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “I know. But I think you like it.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you quickly turned to the oven, checking on the cookies just to distract yourself. "Alright, alright. We’re so close to winning this. No more distractions.”

James, however, wasn’t ready to give up. He stood behind you now, just close enough that you could feel the heat of his presence. "But we’re not breaking the rules yet, right?” He teased, his voice low and smooth.

You shot him a look over your shoulder, lips twitching into a smile despite yourself. “No touching, James. We agreed.”

He huffed in mock frustration but stayed right there, leaning just a little closer, so close you could almost feel his breath on your neck. "I swear you’re trying to make me lose my mind."

You giggled, the sound light and carefree, and despite the tension, you couldn’t help but feel completely at ease. "You're doing a pretty good job of it on your own."

James smiled, his lips curling in that irresistible way you could never resist. He didn’t make a move to touch you this time—though it seemed like he was about to. Instead, he simply stayed close, the quiet hum of the moment wrapping around you both.

You both stood there, just on the edge of breaking every rule, but for now, it was enough.

James’s voice broke the silence, softer now, just for you. “I’m going to win this, Y/N. And when I do, you’re going to make up for every second we’ve spent apart.”

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “We’ll see about that, Potter.”

The cookies were almost done, and the rest of the group had finally returned to the kitchen, their voices carrying through the hallway.

"So, Peter, did you see any touching?" Lily teased, eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked at you both.

You and James exchanged a quick, guilty glance before Peter shrugged, still glued to his show. "Nope, they just baked," He said, completely oblivious.

You and James both let out a sigh of relief at the same time, eyes meeting in a shared, victorious moment. The bet was almost over, and you had not touched each other—well, mostly not touched.

And then, just as you both took a step toward each other, eager to celebrate your (mostly) successful bet, Sirius spoke up with a dramatic, teasing voice.

"Nuh-uh," He said, wagging a finger like a parent scolding children. "Not yet. Not till the rest of the day!"

You groaned playfully. "Sirius, come on!" You whined, but even the complaint didn’t sound all that serious. "You’re the worst."

James crossed his arms in mock indignation, his lips puffing out in a little pout. “We’ve been good,” He said, giving you a pleading look. “We didn’t touch! This should be a reward!”

Sirius glanced at his watch, a grin tugging at his lips. "You both still have two hours before the bet is completely over," he teased. You and James pouted, both of you groaning in exaggerated frustration.

"Two hours?" you whined. "That's forever!"

James crossed his arms dramatically, leaning against the counter. "I’m starting to think you made this bet just to torture me, Y/N."

You laughed, nudging him playfully. "Oh please, Potter. You’re the one who wanted to prove you could win."

"Okay, how about we play a board game?" Marlene interrupted, clearly trying to put a stop to the obvious flirting between you and James.

The rest of the group immediately agreed, and you all settled in to play Monopoly. You shot James a playful look as you sat down next to him, knowing full well that this would probably be just as ridiculous as the bet you were trying to hold out on.

Marlene raised an eyebrow at the two of you, clearly sensing something was up but not saying anything. "Alright, let's see if you two can manage to keep your hands to yourselves during this one."

You grinned and nudged James with your elbow. "Oh, I think we can handle it. Right, Potter?"

James shot you a dramatic wink. "Oh, I’m definitely focused. No distractions here."

But that did not continue to be truthful because every time you reached for a piece, you’d accidentally brush his hand or your elbows would bump.

Each time, you both giggled and pulled back, pretending to be serious about the bet, but the playful look you exchanged made it clear you weren’t fooling anyone.

The game went on, and with every turn, the distance between you both seemed to shrink.

At one point, you both reached for the same piece at the exact same time. Your fingers brushed, and you both froze for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“Oops,” James said with a grin, pulling his hand back dramatically. “Guess we’re terrible at this.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grinning just as much. “You’re the one who’s distracting me, Potter.”

“I’m distracting?” He laughed, pretending to be offended. “I think you’re the one who’s making it impossible to focus!”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to stifle your laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d be so mad right now.”

“I know,” He winked. “It’s my best quality.”

Sirius playfully rolled his eyes at the both of you but that still didn't stop the moment.

The game continued with more silly moments—James trying to accidentally brush your arm while reaching for a piece, you pretending not to notice when his leg bumped yours under the table. You both tried to act like the bet mattered, but every little touch and teasing glance only made it more ridiculous.

At one point, you stood up to grab a piece from across the table, and of course, James stood up at the exact same time. You both awkwardly bumped into each other as he tried to scoot past, and you couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing was.

“You’re making this harder,” You said between giggles, trying to regain your composure but not moving away from him.

James just grinned, looking completely unbothered. “I’m doing nothing. It’s you who’s making it hard.”

You laughed even harder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the game ended and your friends started to clean up. You and James were sitting side by side, still grinning at each other like two kids who just got caught doing something silly.

You exchanged a glance, and before either of you could say anything, your hand instinctively reached out for his. His fingers immediately curled around yours, and the room seemed to fade into the background for a second.

Sirius, noticing from across the room, grinned and said, “Well, well, look who finally broke the bet.”

You and James just laughed, completely ignoring the teasing. You were both just too happy to be together.

James reached into his wallet, handing Sirius the ten galleons, immediately looking at you.

“Worth it,” James said with a goofy smile, giving your hand a little squeeze as he picked you up from your waist and spun you around.

You nodded, your smile matching his. “Definitely.” You said, kissing him sweetly.

Sirius shook his head with a chuckle. “You two are impossible.”

You were.

But honestly? You didn’t care. Because at that moment, you were touching James, and it was the most perfect, thing in the world.

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user777h · 21 days ago

Text

pairing: bf(yunho) x fem(gf y/n)

rating: ignore the warnings,this ones really wholesome😚😚

genre:some angst ,FLUFF,nice and cutesy

Word count:835

Summary:yunho shows his insecure wifey some loving

warnings: MDNI-All characters in my stories are 18+,a lot of my work contains taboo?Genres so if your triggered by that please don't read,probably contains cursing

Y/N stood in front of the full-length mirror in their shared apartment, her hands trembling as she adjusted the hem of the sleek black dress. She had been so excited to surprise Yunho for his birthday, envisioning his face lighting up when he saw her in something so bold, so sexy. But now, staring at herself under the harsh glare of the overhead light, she felt anything but sexy.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. The dress hugged her curves in all the wrong places—or at least that’s how it felt to her. Her stomach seemed too prominent, her thighs too wide, and her shoulders...

“God, why did I even think this was a good idea?” she muttered to herself, her voice cracking.

She wanted to cry, but she also felt so damn stupid. She had hyped this moment up in her head for weeks, imagining Yunho’s reaction. He’d be shocked, sure. But not for the reasons she hoped.

A knock on the door startled her. “Babe? You in there?” Yunho’s deep voice was muffled, but still warm and familiar.

“Yeah,” she called back quickly, trying to steady her voice. “Just... give me a minute.”

There was a pause, and she could practically feel him hesitating. Then the doorknob rattled. “I’m coming in.”

“No, wait—!” she protested, but it was too late. Yunho stepped into the room, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway, his soft brown eyes immediately locking on hers.

“What’s—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to the dress. His eyes widened slightly, and then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. “Well, damn. You look—”

“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp, almost desperate. She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t lie to me, Yunho. I know I look awful.”

“What?” His grin faltered. He stepped closer, his brows knitting together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This stupid dress,” she snapped, her voice thick with frustration. “I thought it would look good, but I look ridiculous. I look... I don’t even know. Like a damn sausage stuffed into—”

“Stop.” Yunho’s voice was firm, cutting through her self-deprecation like a knife. He reached for her hand, gently but insistently turning her to face him. “Stop talking about yourself like that.”

She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “Yunho, I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said, his voice softening but no less intense. “Y/N, you’re fucking gorgeous. I don’t care what you think you see in that mirror, because what I see? Is the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she shook her head. “You’re just saying that—”

“Bullshit,” he cut her off, stepping closer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her gently but firmly against him. “When have I ever lied to you? Huh? Tell me one time.”

She didn’t answer, her throat too tight with emotion.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “Baby, I mean it. Look at you. You’re killing me right now. I don’t even know if I can wait until my actual birthday to celebrate, if you know what I mean.”

She let out a choked laugh despite herself, swatting his arm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning,” he countered, his tone earnest again. “I know you don’t see it right now, but trust me. This dress? It’s perfect. You’re perfect. And if you’re still worried about how it looks, let me just tell you—” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “—I can’t stop picturing taking it off you later.”

Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and warmth spreading through her. “Yunho!”

“What? I’m just being honest,” he said, grinning. “Now, are you going to let me enjoy my birthday with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend, or do I need to keep convincing you how sexy you are?”

She bit her lip, her heart swelling as she looked into his eyes. “You really think I look okay?”

“Okay?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Babe, you look like a goddamn dream. And if anyone else thinks otherwise, they can fuck off, because I know what I’ve got.”

She laughed again, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “And I’m crazy about you, Y/N. Dress or no dress.”

Finally, she smiled—really smiled—and leaned into him. “Thank you, Yunho.”

“Always,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. “Now, come on. Let’s go show off my sexy girlfriend. And after dinner, we can come back here and...” He trailed off, winking.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect,” he said again, his voice full of love.

And for the first time that night, she almost believed him.

#kpop #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho imagines

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burdenandacrop · 2 months ago

Note

i have a cold rn…can you write schlatt caring for his sick partner mayhaps?

˗ˏˋ ❝ it's no bother, baby. ❞ ˎˊ˗

i am loving these cutesy prompts, i hope you're better by now !! most importantly, i hope you enjoy. :>

summary : bed ridden and running a wild fever, schlatt plays nurse and insists on being a form of remedy ! despite your pleas of just leaving it be; he's determined to make you feel better somehow.

♯┆established relationship, fluff, non-gender specific reader !

the feeling of your throat closing up was getting to feel old, you knew you should've questioned yourself when you were behind an old lady who was coughing in the bank line. so much for that little experience. guess this is how you learn your lesson, sprawled out on the bed and deeming the covers as evil from how hot your body felt. even your simple blinking felt like manual labor, what kind of punishment was this? you creak your sore neck to look over to the alarm clock, it was four in the morning. how fucking pleasant. you've felt like this since last night and the phone call to your job was not going to be a fun one. you knew you had to do it, the sheer thought of forcing yourself to get through it and work anyway just made you want to scream into the pillows. it truly did feel cruel, just laying there and feeling like a dying victorian child.

through the walls, you could hear the muffled out noises of schlatt cussing out either one of the cats or how his PC was running for him. it was every five minutes, just a 'fucking bitch' or 'useless piece of shit' being seethed from him. he probably thought you were asleep, but not in a condition like this. that was another thing you weren't looking forward to, knowing that he was going to come to bed at some point and see how utterly dead you looked. then it became apparent, you were going to get him sick too. this really was a sick form of punishment, every single thing felt like a domino effect when it came to the stressors. you rub your face in an attempt to make things feel more real, the soft amber glow from the bedside lamp peeking through your fingertips. anything that wasn't intensely dim just activated your aggravation to another level, headache after headache.

slowly, you raise your body up to the best of your ability, feeling every single tremor that rang through your muscles when you attempted to move after hours of stillness. stridently groaning at the pain, what kind of cold was this? the kind that satan himself sent to punish the worst contenders? pushing away the insistent thoughts, you switch off the lamp, thankfully creating an immediate relief from the pulsing headache that was ringing all around your head. you roughly plop your body back down, feeling as your chest went up and down slowly. every breath felt grueling, the icky sound of the congestion traveling up and down with each exhale. yeah, you were for sure not making an attempt to work today. especially in conditions like this, you wouldn't be surprised if you had some sort of disease that killed off people in oregon trail. that's just how detrimental it felt to you in the moment, absolutely aching to just have some form of release from this permeant uneasiness.

you just decided to close your eyes, bask in the darkness as it was helping ease your headache slowly. even if it was incredibly moderate, you were thankful that it didn't feel as painful with the bedside lamp on. maybe you would be able to get some rest before the chore of having to call in, if only your body would want to cooperate with that idea of yours. maybe if you just took a few ibuprofen you'd feel less like shit; it's a great idea despite the fact your body has now proclaimed war on the thought of moving. so it appeared that was just a distant possibility, too hard to even attempt it. you rolled over slowly, feeling how your shirt stuck onto your skin from the amount of sweat that poured from your skin. if there was one wish, it would be to do anything in your power to avoid something like this happening to you ever again. the feeling of your shirt did feel disgusting, but you'd be damned if you tried to move out of this position considering how comfortable it was.

right as everything seemed to align in this hellscape, the loud ding rung from your phone. you knew exactly what notification it was too, just by the sound. someone was at the door and it set off the ring doorbell, a soft groan escaped your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. that small thing just sent your body back into the same pain you were in right before. you could hear schlatt's shuffling feet, obviously making his way to the front door. a part of you was just silently pondering on what kind of mess he was getting himself into. it was nearly five in the morning for fuck's sake. you just nudged off the thought and tried your best to focus back to the serene feeling you had earlier, silently pleading for it to just return as quickly as possible. you couldn't be bothered in trying to instigate with his shenanigans. especially shenanigans that he did at an hour like this, which was quite often. it was just different considering you felt like a fucked up human experiment, just some mad scientist trying to see how much the body could deal with. in some weird manner of that.

unable to find that familiar comfort you had earlier, you just let your eyes flutter open to ponder at the glowing alarm clock. the numbers 4:51 AM practically taunting you. if you wanted to be smart about calling in, you'd have to do it in the safe median of around 6:30. even if that meant pissing off your boss with the early calls, but hey. not like you were having a necessary awesome morning either, if that was the case. the soft buzz of static rung through the room, but maybe that was an ear infection. you didn't care to even investigate it anymore, you just knew it was shitty. you could softly hear the shuffling of schlatt's feet once more, except they were growing closer to the door. you couldn't differentiate if he was coming to bed finally, or if he was just going to go back to his cave. [ his office. ] secretly hoping it was the office considering the state you were in currently, you just wanted to sleep it off and not have it be a bother to him. he had enough on his plate to begin with. he didn't need this on top of it.

with that notion, as if the universe could hear your pleas and just wanted to throw it back in your face. you heard the bedroom creak open slowly, the glow of amber from the hallway softly lighting up the room. you could also hear the crinkling of a paper bag, as well as the quiet noises of schlatt munching down on something. you really didn't want to turn around, have to come face to face with him just to show him what state you've been in all night while he was working in his office. you heard the bag gently settle on the bedside table to the right of you, knowing schlatt was probably about to crawl into bed. that was until the room fell oddly silent for a moment, oh god. "the hell? not covered up?" schlatt whispered to himself, leaning his knee onto the bed softly to grab a hold of the blanket to gently place back over you. as sweet as it seemed to a third party, to you the feeling of a warm blanket on your already warm body. jail time. immediately. he gave you soft rub on your shoulder as the cover wrapped on your body, though quickly realizing how hot to the touch you were.

"shit, that's warm." he murmured to himself as he eyed the alarm clock, then looking back to your turned away silhouette in the dim lighting. "baby, are you alright?" he leaned himself onto the bed with his knees and propped himself over your side, rocking you with your shoulder lightly; just assuming you were sleeping and had no clue. you softly whimper and creak your neck to his view, your eyes failing you by insisting to try and shut on you. he couldn't see just how drained you looked in the lack of lighting, but he could tell by your noises; you weren't exactly in pristine health. the heat of your body that nearly made him jump wasn't helping in this case either. the worry was settling in his system rather quickly, his body twisting to try and turn on the bedside lamp.

"no-no! no lights! please." you beg of him, immediately making him raise an eyebrow and retract his hand from the lamp switch. instead just settling himself on the bed next to you. he could hear how strained your voice sounded, the bubbling in each word. if he didn't know any better, it just sounded like you smoked two packs of cigarettes a day. "what's the matter?" he softly cooed as he brought his hand to your bare neck, his eyes widening as he was once again hit with the immense heat radiating off of you. "you're burning up, bad." he added, looking down to you and gently pulling his hand away. you sigh and use your weakened body strength to lay on your back instead, a few winces leaving your lips. "i caught something from the bank last week- i think." you murmur, the cover increasingly getting more annoying as it was only adding to the sweats. schlatt dropped his shoulders with a sigh and shook his head, gently pulling the cover off of your body. you silently thanked him with a relieved sigh, "don't tell me you're going to work, are you?" he questioned, hoping you'd give a logical answer.

you softly shook your head and scrunched your eyes shut at the new coming headache that was dead set on annoying you until this sickness passed over. "no- i have to call at s-" you cut your own self off by coughing, the rasp sound of it making schlatt basically jump in his spot. "i have to call at six." you finish, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand with a sigh. his eyes were transfixed on every detail of you, sure he was exhausted from being stuck on his computer for the past five hours but this was obvious more dire. "let me call em, okay?" he pleads with you, letting his hand trail on your shoulder. the coolness of his palm giving you a small feeling of satisfaction, if he could just keep it there for hours; that'd be perfect. "no, i can do it-" you stifled out before yet another abrupt cough interjected itself into the conversation. he shook his head and leaned himself a bit closer. "obviously you can't, baby." he muttered before retracting his palm from you; the serene coolness sadly leaving your skin.

he looked at you for a moment and ran a hand through his messed up hair as he pondered on what his plan of action should be. he couldn't have you wallowing in a puddle of your own sweat for the rest of the day. "i need to get you some water. that's for starters." he mumbled out as he looked around the room, trying to find anything in eyesight that would help. eventually his eyes landing on the small fan that probably hadn't been used in months, clicking his tongue at the sight and raising up from the bed to go and grab it. your eyes follow his movements, your brain still in a sicken daze, unable to focus on whatever that was happening. "what are you doing?" you mutter as you sniffle up. he grabs the fan and walks back to the bed with a soft grin, "you're sweating bad so-" shaking the fan in his hand before bending on his knee to plug it in underneath the bedside table that was on your side. you weakly nodded to his gesture, then suddenly feeling the cool breeze hit your skin. much better. drastically better.

he cracked a smile as he saw the immediate impact it had on you, seeing how your head almost instantly relaxed against the pillow. he nudged himself closer to the edge of the bed, resting on his knees before letting his arms rest on the sheets as he looked at you. "better?" he asked, your eyes fluttered open to his view. immediately nodding to his question and closing your eyes again, if only you could've done this for yourself hours ago. "yeah- you don't need to do anything else." you stammered out, rubbing your head against the pillow lightly as the relaxation was finally finding you again. he didn't take a lot of liking to that little comment though, only making him furrow his brow as he looked at you. "you're crazy." he snickered out, he propped himself back on his feet and pulled at his shirt gently. "i'm getting you some water and then we're getting you changed." he insisted, your eyes opening once again to see him and try to protest his pleas. "you don't have to do that-" you choke out, a cough once again cutting you off. "never said i had to." he sighed out, walking over to the door as he kept looking back to you, "it's not a bother, just let me baby." he muttered before walking out to the hallway to grab what he needed to properly take care of you. it definitely wasn't just going to be a water bottle, that was for certain.

he was already out of sight, too far for you to even try to protest again. it just made you feel guilty, as if you were an incapacitated child. of course, he just wanted to help; just an odd part of you was yelling at you for having to be in a state where you did have to be treated like you were incapacitated. cause you kinda were, sadly. you tried your best to just focus on the cool breeze that was hitting your face, it was what you needed in the past seven hours. instead of laying in agony sweating to death nearly. your eyes followed to the other side of the room, seeing schlatt's crinkled up bag of take-out. so that's why the ring doorbell went off. your patience was testing you considering you knew damn well you couldn't have any sort of crunchy food, what a bore. you could hear schlatt's feet shuffling in the kitchen, how he was quietly muttering to himself. part of you wondering what the hell he was doing, because a glass of water did not take this long.

you rub your face with a low grumble, every little movements felt unnecessarily laborious. with the added guilt of having your boyfriend treat you like a radioactive waste concoction, today was not fun in the slightest. your eyelids were progressively getting heavier with the cool breeze soothing you, that was until you saw the blurry silhouette of schlatt appear in the doorway. with how bad your eyesight was in the moment, the amber lighting falling behind him almost made him look like a specter. "do you need help sitting up?" he quietly asked as he came more into your view, the daze lessening as his form became less blurred. you could see in his arms he was holding a good bit of stuff, from what you could recognize; was a glass of water, a washrag, bottle of pills, and a small opened cup of yogurt. your favorite flavor to be exact. guess that's what all the shuffling noises were doing. you shake your head and prop your hands on the sheets to slowly stabilize yourself, raising your body up and moaning softly as you leaned against the headboard.

schlatt immediately put everything down on the bedside table, rushing his hands to fix the pillow from underneath you to help your back better. "easy, easy." he cooed as he kept his eyes on you, slightly bending over to adjust the fan to hit your skin better. "you don't have to be florence nightingale, yknow?" you weakly chuckle out, crossing your arms and feeling the rumbling in your stomach. he stood up straight and gave you a cocked brow as he grabbed the washrag, "who the hell is that?" he muttered as he leaned his knee onto the edge of the mattress to bring the washrag to your head. "what do you mean who is- nevermind." you stammer out, the instant gratification of the cool rag hitting your forehead. he patted it down onto your forehead, nodding when he was satisfied with the placement.

"is that actually helpful or is my knowledge from the movies just stupid?" he asked with a grin, pulling his knee back and picking up the pill bottle from the table. you close your eyes and slowly nod to his question, "it's doing something." you mumble, tilting your head to his direction before opening your eyes again to see him twisting off the cap of the bottle. "i'll call my mom and see if she knows what else i should do." he mutters as he shakes out two ibuprofen pills into his palm, putting the bottle back down and grabbing the glass of ice water with his right hand. "you really don't need to-" you groan, the weight of your head progressively getting more uncomfortable. "she'll know, just let me do this for you. okay?" he pleads with you, before leaning back down to reach your face better. "take this, alright?" he adds on, gesturing the pills in his palm to you. you sigh and take the pills and pop them into your mouth, taking the glass of water from his hand and gulping it down. his eyes widened as he realized just how much you needed water, goodness gracious.

you retracted the glass from your lips and sighed, looking up to him with your exhaustion pouring from your expression. "hopefully that'll kick in quickly." he muttered before taking the glass from your hands and placing it gently back onto the table. sighing as he looked back to you, leaning over and balancing his knee back onto the edge of the bed. "let's get this shirt off." he gruffly stated, trailing his hands to the hem of your shirt. feeling how soaked it was from your sweat. you scrunched up your face and groaned as you raised your arms above your head. he took the rag off your forehead temporarily, tossing it to the table and pulling the shirt off of your body. he threw the shirt off to the corner of the room and looked to the closet. "you just want one of your bed shirts?" he stated as he eyed what he could see from the distance. you softly nod and whimper out an 'mhm.' he promptly turned from the bed to go and grab an old shirt of yours from the closet, flipping through the numerous tees he could choose. he wanted it to be airy in a way, considering you were going to be wearing it for a bit. he beamed when he finally found a thin white tee, pulling it off the hanger and clutching it in his fist as he walked back over to you.

right as he was about to straighten out the shirt to help you put it on, a realization hit him. he dropped the shirt on the bed and grabbed the rag from the bedside table, quickly rubbing it along your chest to clean off any lingering sweat. it wasn't a bath but- it was definitely going to be better than just wallowing in hours of sweat. the cold rag felt so nice, you could feel how careful he was trying to be with you. letting the rag drag along your skin and it did help you feel cleaner in the moment. he tossed the rag to the side once more as he finished wiping you off, grabbing the tee and nodding to silently signify you to raise your arms again. "least it's a bit better." he murmured as he finished pulling the shirt over your head, adjusting the end of it to better suit your comfort. "thanks florence nightingale." you weakly snicker and pick at the lint of the shirt for a moment. "still don't know who the hell you're talking about." he laughed along with you, pleased that you were at least trying to smile and not be stuck in the sorrow of your illness.

you just roll your eyes and settle your back into the headboard, he really was clueless at times. he gently pulled himself off the edge of the bed to grab the cup of yogurt, handing it over to you with a soft grin. "this'll be easier on your throat." he stated, your eyes lingering on the cup for a moment before taking it. you hadn't ate in a bit so you definitely needed this. he watched as you took the cup and began to scarf it down, trying to hold back a snicker of how he was seeing this moment. you narrow your eyes at him as you lick the yogurt off your lips, it was easy to see he was trying his hardest to not smile. "what." you choke out, only making it harder for him to not laugh at the sight. he crossed his arms and shrugged, "it's like watching my grandma." he admits, snickering and immediately regretting his wording. you kick your foot at him causing him to lose a bit of his balance as he continued to chuckle.

"i'm sorry- i'm sorry." he snickered out as he backed away from the edge of the bed. you just shook your head and continued to finish off your yogurt, it was helping with your throat so. guess he was a tad bit smart for that idea. "my mom should be up." he muttered as he pulled his phone from his pocket, the glow of the screen roaming on his focused face as he searched for his mom's contact. pressing the call button and nodding to you before walking over to the corner of the room to pace around as he waited for her to answer. your eyes followed him as you held the spoon in your mouth, wondering if his mother was going to be livid to be getting a call so early. "mornin' mama- yeah it's just a little somethin." he spoke with the phone to his ear, you could barely hear what she was saying on the other line. "[y/n] is sick, just wanted to know what you do for dad when he's down." he twirled himself around as he heard his mom labeling off everything, looking over to you with a smile. "uh huh, honey and mint. is that what you're saying?" he questioned into the phone, nodding to every little thing his mom was saying. "alright- yup. thank you. mhm. love you mom- yes i'll tell [y/n]. uh huh. bye-bye. i will." he stammered out, you cracked a smile as you saw him. it was always hilarious to see him attempt to get off the phone when his mom insisted on saying everything at the end of the phone call. every single time.

he sighed as he pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head as he pushed it back into his pocket. "she said she hopes you feel better and she'll bring some soup later on today." he snickers out, walking back over to his side of the bed before sitting on the edge as he faced you. "she does not need to make me soup-" you protest but schlatt just shakes his head and clicks his tongue, "don't deny my sweet mom's kindness. you're getting soup." he sighed out as he leaned against the headboard, trailing his hand to yours. "this is just a lot for me being sick." you groan out, your hand weakly gripping into his. "well, i love you. so this is prompted." he sighed out and leaned his body a bit closer to yours; not really caring if he'd get sick. "you're gonna give me a cavity, i swear to god." you snicker out and shake your head. he let his thumb run along the back of your hand, eyeing how it trembled gently. "good thing you have dental insurance then." he replied with a smile, looking back to your eyes.

"also health insurance. after the ibuprofen kicks in, we're getting you into urgent care." he sighed out once more, pulling his hand away and bringing it up to your hot to the touch cheek. "can't have your job all upset." he added on, rubbing his thumb along your edges. you groan at the idea of sitting in a waiting room for this mess, "i know- i know. just gotta make sure it's nothing serious." he muttered with a pursed lip. "just don't make me do that alone." you plead with him, your eyes fluttering from the soft touch of his hand. "i'd never." he smiled and leaned over to kiss your forehead. "so til then, i'm fuckin- 'florence bird' or something." he snickered out. you roll your eyes and shook your head at his nonsense, "it's florence nightingale. she invented modern nursing dipshit." you groan out with a giggle. "yeah yeah, whatever. history talks for later." he cooed out as he stretched his arms. "just get better so i can kiss you again, alright?" he stated with a pouted expression.

"seems like you have your priorities straight." you mumble, smiling weakly at him. "my priorities are straight if it's involving you." he replied with a sigh, kissing your forehead one more time. sure, being sick was hell; but you practically had a walking teddy bear as a caretaker. so it couldn't be all that bad. minus the urgent care. that would just have to be something to worry about later.

author's note : i loved writing this sm, so thank you so much for submitting it !! i am strapping my boots and gonna knock out some more submission after this. til then, lauve youuu !!!

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #rpf #writing #fanfic #fluff

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icallhimjoey · 5 months ago

Note

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.”

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

The Taglisted

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