#i wrote this is the middle of the night because i can't sleep
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roseredfae · 2 days ago
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For Dean's Birthday 2025
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Dean comforts the reader when they feel down
ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mention of anxiety and sad feelings, comfort, fluff
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I'm a little late, but I'd also like to share a little story I wrote last year. Dean is my comfort character and I just love him. Happy Birthday cutie pie ♥️
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ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ: ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ
It was the middle of the night. Once again, I couldn't fall asleep and had snuck out of our motel room to get some fresh air. I hoped that this would somehow tire me out.
I sighed and took a sip of the tea I had quickly taken from the vending machine in the reception. It was a pleasantly cool night, finally some relief after the last few hot days.
The motel parking lot was quite and I could hear the crickets chirping. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the peace and quiet when I suddenly heard footsteps.
I turned around and looked into Dean's green, tired eyes. I smiled tiredly at him and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Can't you sleep?" he asked me in a raspy voice.
I nodded slightly. "Today is just not my day. Or rather night. Why are you up?" Dean usually slept like a rock. It was almost impossible to get him awake.
He looked at me, irritated. "You think I won't notice if you suddenly get up and leave? I heard the door to the room and your curse when you hit your leg." He grinned at me, sighed and took a seat next to me on the curb.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He looked at me sympathetically. Dean was like the big brother I never had and always wanted. I sighed again.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm just exhausted and restless. My head is spinning like a merry-go-round and won't stop. I just don't want others to be disappointed in me...", "Do you know who you're disappointing the most right now?"
I looked at him hurt and shook my head. My only goal every day was to do my best for others. Dean put his hand on my shoulder.
"You. You're letting yourself down the most right now. You're putting so much pressure and anxiety on yourself every day that it's tearing you apart from the inside out. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. No one is mad at you if you don't play the perfect lady. Just be yourself again and listen to yourself."
I looked at him sadly and desperately: "But who am I really? I feel like I lost my way at some point and no longer have any idea who I am or what I even want. I know my name, but it sounds like a stranger to me. I feel so surreal, like I'm in a trance. How do I manage to come back? To you, to me?"
Dean spread his arms out like a protective cocoon. "Come here, sweetheart, I'm here, I'm always here, you know that." I let him take me in his arms as tears ran down my cheeks. "I don't know what to do anymore, Dean..."
He stroked my head reassuringly. "You already know the solution. You don't have to do or be or achieve anything. You already have everything you need, you're here, you're healthy, you have a fulfilling job and you have us. You have a family that has your back. You are the best, kindest, sweetest, most helpful person I know. You're always there for everyone but yourself. None of us can give you what you really need. Only you can do that. You've done it before and you'll do it again. Because you are a fighter. And you always will be. No one can take that away from you, okay?"
I nodded silently.
He was still stroking my head reassuringly when suddenly the door opened again and a sleepy Sam stepped out of the room. He looked at us in irritation.
"What the hell are you doing out here? It's the middle of the night. Has something happened?"
Dean looked up at his little brother and shook his head. "It's all good, sweetheart here just can't sleep."
Sam nodded in understanding. "Do you need more cuddles?"
He grinned tiredly at me and I grinned back, nodding. "Yes please Sammy."
Sam didn't need to be asked twice and came up to us and hugged me from the other side. Now I was completely enclosed in two strong arms and I relaxed immediately. I sighed happily.
"Thank you guys. I love you. You're my family, I don't know what I'd do without you."
Sam shook his head. "You're our family too, but you can do it without us. You're strong enough that you can go on alone, but that doesn't mean you have to. Or that we'd let you go."
Dean chuckled and hugged me more. "Like we'd let you go willingly. Who else is going to bring me my coffee in the morning?" I laughed and snuggled up to them both.
"I think I can go back to sleep now. The cuddling has made me tired..." They both laughed and Sam slowly stood up again and held his hand out to me. "Come on then, princess. Time to go to bed."
I smiled and took his hand. The three of us went back to the room and when we were snuggled up and content in our beds, I finally fell asleep again with a smile on my face.
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pharawee · 1 year ago
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Welcome to the second part of my Pit Babe novel commentary aka "hey this isn't so ba---wait where's Babe's sudden daddy kink even coming from??"
And I try (oh my god do I try). 🤡
I'm now at chapter 10, trying to pace myself because the (auto-translated) translation I'm reading is apparently a WIP. I'm on the edge of my seat. The plot is beginning to thicken.
Previously, Charlie was being sus and Babe was catching feelings, but most importantly there was a lot of pwp and very little racing.
Now there's more racing. Babe even brings Charlie (he still has to wear a mask and a hat) but gets too distracted by his presence (he's apparently addicting enough to kiss through the mask) and promptly forgets to check his car before the race (even though Charlie warns him against it but such is the power of scent - or lack of scent in this case. I don't even know anymore - neither does Babe but at some point Charlie states that's he's now in an alpha rut which I suppose means exactly what it says on the tin).
But, oh no! Babe runs into trouble during the race. He loses the lead and his car gets increasingly difficult to control until it crashes and bursts into flames. But it's okay, Babe jumps out of the driving car just in the nick of time (have you ever seen a supercar outfitted for racing? It's difficult enough to climb into one - funny how I'm apparently okay with omegaverse shenanigans but I draw the line at wonky motorsports physics 🤣).
Anyway, the track marshals are doing a really shit job because somehow they 1. let Charlie on the track to singlehandedly try and rescue Babe and 2. they also completely miss that Babe has literally jumped ship car and is lying on the track. He ends up with a broken wrist and a sprained knee (or was it the other way around? anyway, he's wearing several casts) which means he won't be able to finish the season and lose the title of King (all because he was too horny to check his car... but yeah also apparently it was sabotage  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).
So much for the racing part.
Babe needs weeks to heal so naturally he needs Charlie to pamper and feed him and dick him down several times a day but what else is new. No offence to the the dicking down part but ugh I hate this trope. Maybe it's just because I dislike the dynamics but I don't like the way Babe is taking on more and more cliché omega traits. If I have to read one more time about how much smaller he is (or about his "rounded" hips... are you ok google translate?)...
Oh, and btw. There are omegas in this! Charlie gets flirted at by one (which Babe absolutely hates) and he does have a scent and all. Later, when Charlie is busy being extremely sus again he meets up with a childhood friend, Jeff (Pon's character in the series is called Jeff - oh. oh no...), and if I'm not mistaken he's an omega as well. Jeff cautions Charlie against being with Babe and displeasing his father (which also seems to be Jeff's father? Dude sure has a lots of adoptive kids...) but Charlie argues that he knows what he's doing and he doesn't want to stop anyway.
Later on he tells the exact same thing to his (adoptive?) father, and why do I get the feeling that this might be the same father Babe mentioned earlier when he was telling a feverish Charlie a story to get him to sleep:
In his story, Babe mentions how when he was very small he used to go hungry every day because his mum was out of the picture and his father didn't even make enough money bring food to the table. One day the hunger was so bad that he passed out and woke up in the hospital where a stranger told him he'd be his new family. With little choice in the matter, Babe accepted and went on to spend the rest of his childhood well-cared for and in elite schools etc. That is, until he turned (presumably...) 18 and discovered that his father didn't adopt him out of the kindness of his heart but for ulterior motives that Babe doesn't explain any further because at that point Charlie has fallen asleep.
So yeah, what are the odds that Babe's "father" and Charlie's father are the same person (no spoilers, please)? Because if so then... that's disturbing, especially since Charlie's father seems to want Charlie to lure Babe back home. I mean, Charlie seems to have his own plans but it's not like his father throws him out after their secret meeting. Sus, very sus.
Meanwhile, Babe is slowly losing his heightened senses (the novel doesn't mention it yet but I'm pretty sure this is Charlie's doing) but he doesn't seem to mind because he's too busy falling in love. There's a lovely scene where Charlie and he spend the night stargazing, and this is when Babe realises that something's different because usually his heart only beats this fast when he thinks about racing (lmao).
Cue to them not having sex for a week because Babe feels like he's going crazy.
Meanwhile, it's been decided that Charlie will finish Babe's racing season for him because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I'm sure he'll win the title too because he's Charlie, alphaest of alphas. Or something.
So one night Babe officially introduces him to the rest of team X-Hunter (and curiously Sonic and North seem to be racers in the novel as well) but things go awry when Babe is too busy fooling around with Way (no you cannot be affectionate with a male friend in a BL novel it is forbidden!!). Charlie and Babe argue and proceed to ignore each other for the rest of the night until they make up (and out) during the official X-Hunter sleepover (with Way and another poor dude sleeping in the same room).
They're polite enough to seek out the indoor pool (this isn't even their house - have you no shame?) and talk it out. And by talk it out I mean there's an inappropriate amount of daddy-calling and Little Mermaid jokes. This is where Charlie claims Babe. Yes, there's knotting (I think? like I said, I'm not axactly an expert and auto-translate is a bit vague, bless its little AI heart). Charlie threatens (I'm sure it's all meant very lovingly 🤡) to impregnate Babe if there's no other way to show others that he's his. To which Babe replies that that's impossible anway.
It's impossible, right? Right??
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bradleysbradshaws · 1 year ago
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I cried again in a public restroom because it is hitting me that it's probably finally over for me, despite all I've tried to do, despite all I have left to give. And I cried because of what bogbeast told me yesterday - that they were done with Top Gun (thankfully, it's because they genuinely found another interest and not because of anything else). That I probably won't be getting what I hoped at least would be my parting Christmas gift this year. This fandom was kept slightly alive for me because of them and yellow_crayon for so long - the only two people who freely talked to me on a personal level this year and still wrote for Roosmav - and how disappointing of an ending to something they loved this was because of their friendships with me.
I'm getting up to write this at 4 a.m., so I'm not coherent, but I want to elaborate on this more later, and all that they have done for me, but I remember bogbeast being upset that it seemed less people were caring about their writing this year as time went on, and I couldn't explain to them that the reason less people from the Roosmav server were commenting on their fic was because it was becoming more obvious that they were friends with me. And all they had done was befriend me and help me with my writing this year (it's obvious now, but they beta'd my first four stories/all of my bottom!Bradley fics this year).
I remember being so relieved that Fopps commented on the second-to-last chapter of their Roosmav longfic, "Hold Me Under." Tbh, I was surprised Fopps had kept commenting on it after I became friends with them. Fopps was the first comment on that fic, so while I know she didn't end up commenting on the last chapter - and maybe she didn't even end up finishing that story - I know she really liked it, at least in the beginning.
I told yellow_crayon that in the likelihood it doesn't work out for me, and I have to leave the fandom for good, I want her to be able to formally disassociate from me so that she can finish her WIPs in peace and link them on the Roosmav server because she had always had a wonderful reputation with everyone there until her friendship with me. I don't think she linked her priestfic on there in the beginning of the year because she had gifted it to me, and I had even told her at the time - because I had felt so bad and was aware that her gifting it to me meant that she couldn't post it there - that she should un-gift it to me. But she kept it gifted to me, and it's this kind of gesture which showed me that I really did matter to her - that she would sacrifice that ability to post her work on there because of our friendship.
I've felt so terrified and guilty that my friends are friends with me for so long, because I have had to wonder: If they openly associate with me, will other people stop commenting on/supporting their works? I cried when Lake agreed to let me give her beta credit on my priest fic because I had fully expected to not be able to - that I had to hide my friendships with people forever because I didn't want to put them in a bad position with their other friends.
I have had to calculate everything I did this year - every work I have posted, every conversation I have had with a friend - because I wanted to show that I still wanted to give to this fandom, that I was willing to draw/write things that no one else in the Roosmav fandom, after all this time, has; and I didn't want to inadvertently get my friends in trouble for simply associating with me, but I still wanted to show that I was 1000% loyal to Roosmav by the fact that every person that I still talk to and remain friends with is from the Roosmav server. That I have everything to lose - Lake, Lily, YC, my friends - if I had any intent outside of just wanting to positively contribute to something I love.
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writersrkive · 1 month ago
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Don't shut up | Spencer Reid
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summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.
genre: fluff
pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader
warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.
a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.
Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)
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Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.
That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.
“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."
At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.
“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”
Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.
“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”
Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.
“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.
“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."
“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.
“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.
“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.
“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.
Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.
It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.
While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.
“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.
“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.
“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.
The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”
“It isn't?” He questioned.
“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.
“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.
“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.
The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.
“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.
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nelyos-right-hand · 9 months ago
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I think there's no better fandom to be a nerd in than the Tolkien fandom. Mostly thanks to the professor himself. People I know be like "You're learning a language just because of a book?! Girl, you're so obsessed!"
Well, at least I'm just learning a language, not inventing one! And at least it's just one language, not ten! You think my hour long rants are annoying? You can be glad my current obsession-level is maybe 5% of Tolkien's, or we'd be having an entirely different conversation right now.
Really, Tolkien was the worst of all of us, and no one can tell me otherwise. You can also see in the way he wrote his characters that he was just fangirling the entire time. I literally see him waking his wife in the middle of the night, like "I can't sleep, I just keep thinking about Fingon, he's so cool and epic and tragic and aahhhhhh!". I also think nothing makes a better story than the author being just as much in love with the characters as the fans are.
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gold-onthe-inside · 2 months ago
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a shot of whiskey
who? spencer reid x tough!reader content warnings: mentions of knife wounds and blood word count: 538 summary: reader contemplates whether she's sweet enough for spencer a/n: just something i wrote on the train so maybe it makes sense, maybe it doesn't. there's no real plot
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Your fingers have calluses on them, and there was a welt on your arm, an unsub's knife taking a slice through once smooth skin. You hadn't even felt it while taking him down, the adrenaline of the fight carrying you through but Spencer had all but dragged you to the ambulance to get it stitched up, his large hand staunching your blood. 
He was sleeping on his stomach, no matter how many times you've told him that it's bad for his back. Something happens in the middle of the night, where he rolls over onto you, as if he needs to know you're still here. The fear of losing each other is palpable, especially when so often, you and Derek are the first through the door. You can't help yourself; you're impatient, and irritable when a case is going nowhere, like each victim that turns up is a personal failure. How many times have you turned over in the middle of the night, wondering who's next? 
He doesn’t like your morbid line of thinking, you do your best to protect him from it, but you've always been this way - rough around the edge, like a serrated knife. You know how to draw blood better than staunching it. Everyone's been a victim of it, noone more than you. You don't know how to wax poetics like Spencer does, how to whisper sweet nothings in his ear like he does. The best you can do is make him coffee how he likes it, more sugar than coffee powder, no creamer because it dilutes the caffeine or something. 
You leaned over, pulling down the neck of his pyjama top, kissing the back of his neck, your nose nuzzled in his hair, his hot coffee waiting on the bedside table with a coaster on top so it doesn’t cool while you gently wake him. Your hand trailed down his smooth back, your hand rough no matter how much moisturiser you use. He shifted under your touch, this large lump in your bed turning over to blink at you and rub at his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled and you smiled at him faintly, always so restrained. The dark circles around his eyes are permanent, he won't listen to your cold spoon and damp teabags trick, because genius though he is, self care is like pulling teeth.
"Morning," you murmured, watching him sit up and recognise his cardigan from yesterday on you. 
"How do you always look better than me in those?" he said petulantly, pouting a little, looking at you as you hugged your knees, knobbly and scarred from a childhood of falling over. You always hated kneepads. 
"I made coffee," you said, knowing one sip of your coffee would make all his petulance melt. There's few other secrets that you have to make him feel loved - knowing his takeout order, chocolate glazed donuts with sprinkles, reading to him in general. You've never been particularly romantic, you'd rather a quiet night in watching a docuseries than at a fancy restaurant, and as you watched him drink his sugary coffee, you wonder if he deserves someone sweeter than you. 
"It's perfect," he said with his saccharine smile.
Just like you, you think.
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seungcheorry · 9 months ago
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morning after with svt.
COLLABORATION WITH @kozukensgf 🎀
suggested by anon, i wrote these drabbles and the amazing hazel wrote the texts. read these first, and then the texts. (:
texts with svt (morning after ver) can be found here.
seungcheol is too soft for his own good. whether he has feelings for you or not, he's the type to stay around for a bit and wait until you wake up so he can say goodbye properly. will probably decline your offer of breakfast though (politely, of course).
jeonghan likes to watch you sleep, so of course he stays around too. if he's not that busy, he will also wait until you're awake to leave - but differently from cheol, he will accept your offer to eat first. now, if he has schedules that day, he'll be out the door as soon as you open your eyes.
joshua is a cutie, so he stays too. he actually wakes up after you, chasing after the sounds you're making around the house. he will be the one to offer to make breakfast or take you out to eat. it doesn't matter if he has feelings for you or not, he considers you a friend? so of course he'll treat you right (the sex is just a plus).
junhui feels kinda awkward once he wakes up. he knows he doesn't like you enough to have romantic feelings for you, so the intimacy of seeing you sleep or taking a shower with you is too overwhelming. he leaves before you wake up, but makes sure to leave a little something for you before he does.
hoshi is a heavy sleeper after sex, so chances are you'll wake up first. he's more than happy to see you still beside him scrolling through your phone as soon as he wakes up. he's the type to run his mouth about anything and everything, bonding with you beyond your steamy times. he's such a darling, he just wants you to be comfortable around him.
wonwoo is quiet, the morning after. he isn't sure if he likes you like that, but he does like your company, your body, the way you make him feel... so it always hits him, after he has sex with you, that he should figure his feelings out. he stays with you for breakfast too, grateful for the way mornings are usually quiet around you. he leaves with a heavy heart before lunch though, but knowing damn well he'll come back to your bed soon.
there's no morning after with woozi, as he leaves in the middle of the night, both because he can't sleep and he doesn't know how to deal with the "aftwards", especially if he doesn't love you. he's not an asshole though, so he texts you an apology when he knows you're awake and tells you that it was fun seeing you again, and that you should definitely go visit him on his studio sometime.
dokeyom is similar to hoshi, i think. he just wants you to be comfortable around him, so he's just his sunshine form when he's around you the morning after. he also stays, for as long as he can/you will have him, but always tell you "hey, i can go whenever you want" - no, dokyeom, you can't. you want to stay. you know you do.
mingyu is the type to wake up earlier than you, take a shower (because of course he already feels at home with you), and then proceed to make you something to eat. he shyly smiles when you come find him in your kitchen. even though the relationship he has with you is mainly sexual, his mom didn't raise a player - so he'll pay you back for having him on your bed somehow.
minghao stays with you. there's this spoken thing between the two of you, where you're not truly fwb but also you're not mere acquaintances - so he's comfortable enough to sleep next to you, but draws the line when it comes to breakfast together. he's out the door as soon as he has taken a shower (alone, of course).
seungkwan leaves as soon as he wakes up, not because he wants to, but because he's most likely late for something. he definitely texts you later, thanking you for the night and promising to see you soon. might also send something to your house, like your favorite dessert or something, since he couldn't stay as he usually does.
vernon doesn't stay. if he doesn't have feelings for you he's more than grateful that you let him have his way with you and always make sure to not be a player, and that includes leaving (it's not right after though, he takes his time to calm down and if you are already asleep by the time he decides to leave, he wakes you up. he will never leave without telling you so).
dino stays because he wants to be with you. i can't see this sweet boy not falling in love or getting obsessed with you, so deal with it. will crack jokes just to see you smile in the morning, and already knows how you like your coffee/tea. his smile falters when you tell him you have plans for the day, a polite way to tell him he can't stay for too long.
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aesthetictarlos · 5 months ago
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When Buck and Tommy sleep together, Buck always ends up on his side with Tommy spooning him. They haven't really talked about that, it's just– happened, and Buck may have mentioned that he really, really enjoys being spooned so it's a habit now.
One night, Buck forgets to bring his overnight bag with him so Tommy invites him to just pick some clothes from his closet and that's how Buck notices a weighted blanket in there.
"Hey, Tommy," he says after he retrieves a pair of sleep shorts and a worn out Air Ops tee.
His boyfriend is reading a book, but he immediately lifts his face up and takes off his reading glasses, tilting his head. "Yeah, babe? Come here."
Buck climbs on the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "Uh– I noticed you own a weighted blanket," he says casually, hoping to not sound judgemental or something.
Tommy swallows, then shrugs and takes a breath. "I– I have trouble sleeping sometimes. Nightmares and anxiety. You know– uh, souvenirs from my time in the army. It's not always bad, I just– my therapist suggested to buy one of those, and I thought it was useless and that I didn't need it but I gave it a try and it helped, along with the therapy sessions of course," Tommy rambles, avoiding Buck's gaze like he's embarrassed. "Things got better after a while but sometimes I still struggle and when I have a stressful day or something triggers me I– I use it. It's grounding, and it helps."
Buck pulls Tommy's move and lifts his chin with his index and middle finger. "I'm glad you found something that helps, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?" He says, cupping his face. "Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I love being spooned but we could– I could spoon you or sleep on top of you if that helps."
Tommy's eyes shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. "I think– I think it could help. I never asked because I don't know how to do that, you know? I'm not used to this, Evan. To have someone who cares, who looks at me and sees something worthy, something good."
"I know the feeling," Buck whispers, tugging Tommy close and hugging him. "But you have me now. I care about you, I love you."
"I know," Tommy echoes, and kisses his birthmark.
That night, Buck sprawls half on top of Tommy, his arm around his waist and his head on his chest, and smiles as Tommy sighs contentedly, allowing himself to be held and protected. It's new, but it's also good.
[this is inspired by a fic I've just finished reading, written by @zeraparker . The title is blanket (go read it!!) and well, she wrote about Tommy owning a weighted blanket which led to me writing this little thing about it because I apparently can't stop writing some Tommy introspection.]
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blingblong55 · 2 months ago
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What Would I do?-Simon "Ghost" Riley
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A/N: I woke up, wrote this in the middle of the night, listened to my sleeping playlist and decided that you could need this, so...here you go. All the events aren't written in chronological order, but rather moments at random that lead to something...I won't spoil this part, so read it, babes. I know this isn't to the quality of the latest ones I've put out but just bare with me on this one, I had a lot of ideas! And you’re more than welcome to search the title on Spotify, it’s a good song that obviously matches this fic
-- F!Reader, established!relationship, fluff, boyfriend!simon --
Boyfriend, what a word for a man like him. Is it the sweetness of your touch? Could it be the way you are so gentle with him? Maybe it's the way he found himself driving to your place instead of his own after a long day of work. Whatever it is, the answer to all his problems is you. You, you, you, and lovely you. 
From the beginning, he told you he isn't a man that will ever be called a husband. You, of course–saddened by this comment–just nodded and accepted it. He always meant it because, with the life he's had, there is no way in hell he would want to add to his worries. Plus, he doesn't need love, doesn't need the companionship. It's just him and the stress he carries. 
Then, you came in. 
"Before we begin this, I won't ever marry you, I'm not sorry if you feel bad, it's just my decision." He states and since it's a fresh relationship, you nod, "I understand." 
From then on, he didn't need to remind you. It was always in the back of your head that no matter what, he'd stay a boyfriend. Even now, five years into a relationship. Living in separate places, and different friend groups, your love for him persists and you stay through the good and bad. Maybe it's because even if you'll never wear the wedding dress in your Pinterest board, you will have him, for however long he'll have you. Please, god let it be forever. 
--
"I can't sleep," you say over the phone. This is how it started. How after one year together, he finds himself driving to your place, you didn't ask for it but he won't let your insomnia ruin your day off. What is it about you that has him finding ways to make your life better? Could it be that you drove to pick him up one time from the airport? Maybe it's the way kissing you feels? No, that can't be. Is it that you understand him? Maybe. 
Whatever it is, he unlocks your front door with the spare key you gave him. As he approaches your room, he finds you listening to the song you said reminds you of him. What's this weird feeling in his chest? Why does this scene make him feel warm? Goosebumps, no, he never gets goosebumps. 
He pushes your door gently and you turn around. "Simon, hi," you immediately pause the song, hoping he didn't recognise it in time. But he did and that caused him to smile—oh silly girl. "Hi, lovie," his voice much softer now. Hesits down, wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your head. "What's in that pretty head of yours, hm?" he asks and at the same time, you find yourself to be more comfortable in his hold. 
"Everything," you mumble and that's when you hear that deep and soft chuckle of his.
Within five minutes, he finds himself lying in bed with you, holding a book he found on your nightstand. He looks down at you, your head resting on his chest, right where it belongs. 
As you close your eyes, that's when you hear it, he starts to read out loud. Usually, he would just lay in bed until you fell asleep. But not tonight, something told him to just read to you. Is it that maybe he wants you to be comfortable? Toprovide you what you provide for him? Whatever it is, it has got him here. His voice is soothing, it's calming in many ways. He doesn't understand it, no matter how many times you explain that you love it. 
--
"Lovie?" he calls out to you when he arrives at your place. This is the first time he calls you a pet name. It feels...odd but good to do this. He steps further into your place, the lights are dim, something he knows you love because it makes the rooms more "aesthetically pleasing to walk into". "Love?" he calls out and that's when panic sets in. 
You always answer, to the first time he calls your name. 
He rushes into your room, only to see you asleep. There is a moment when his gaze softens. It's almost comical how much he has changed. How much he has wanted to change. 
He was never like this with past partners, I mean he did like them and all but with you, he is trying and trying to understand all your creases, to become someone worthy of much more than that sweet smile you give him. So, he leans by the doorway to your bedroom and watches you sleep. 
How can someone be so beautiful at all times? How can you make him feel so...good? So safe and happy? God, he loves you. And as he watches you sleep, he feels his chest warm up, something odd and for a second it feels like he is getting a heart attack. But then he realises it.
He is in love...true love. 
--
"What's this?" he asks as one day he finds you, sitting by the dining table with a cake and a candle. 
"It's your birthday, and I know you don't celebrate but...maybe this can be a one-time thing," your voice soft and that's when he feels his chest tighten. He drops his bags, makes sure the door is locked and sits beside you. He pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. You light up a singular candle, holding the small cake to him. 
At this moment, when the only light comes from the candle and the kitchen hood lights, he can take his mask off and appreciate how you gently sing for him. This was the first time he celebrated his birthday, well...first time in over a decade where it felt good to do so.
When he blows the candles, his gaze shifts from the cake to you. You kiss his forehead and his brows furrow whilst his eyes close. God, this is home. "Happy birthday, Simon," you whisper as you set the cake down. 
Maybe heaven is real after all. His faithless prayers were answered and his angel arrived. 
--
Coughs, headaches and long naps.
Simon has been sick for three days so far and has possibly got the best nurse around. You.
"Eat–"
"I'm not hungry, y/n," he says but you give him that mum look. "Eat, Simon." you persist and he sighs, opening his mouth as you feed him a spoonful of soup. You smile as you watch him eat. It worries you that this is the first meal he actually accepts but you're also content about it. "S'good," he comments and you nod. Of course, it's good, you think. 
As you leave the room to get him some warm tea, he lays there, appreciating the past days. He wouldn't admit it but he loves this, loves to get pampered by you. It's the first time in so long that where feels cared for, like someone out there means all the little things they do to make him feel better. 
--
Dinner at your family's house. He is nervous even though he's been here before. This time he feels different, there is something in the air tonight. He holds your hand as you walk through the threshold. 
Greeting family members was always the longest part but if you enjoy it, so will he. 'God, this wasn't me before you came in, Y/N,' he says to himself. 
Sitting around the family room, your sibling's children run around and while you get carried away talking and gossiping with your siblings, he finds himself being the centre of attention to all the children. "Uncle Simon, I want to fly like a plane again!" one of the younger kids exclaimed. You look around and see him there, holding a child in his arms, the biggest smile on him as he watches the child giggle while he parades them around the room as if they were a plane. 
He puts the child down, looks over at you and his gaze softens. Your heart melts at this. He has never looked so perfect like right now. 
On the drive home, he holds your hand in his as he drives. 
There is something in the air. Something sweet that screams future life. He looks over at you for a second then back at the road. That's how he finds himself picturing you and him, moving in together, settling down and running around the house you both call home, chasing your children while he tries to fix the light in the kitchen. 
Domesticty is what he craves when it's just you two.
--
There came a time when he lay in bed with you, shirtless with only his boxers on as he laid his head on your chest. Hisarms lazily resting at your sides, bodies intertwined while he listens to your heartbeat. Your hand caresses his back while the other runs from his neck to his hair. He hums, slowly mumbling about his day. Maybe after all havingsomeone isn't the end of the world. 
He closes his eyes, taking in the comfort of your hold, the bedsheets and the safety he feels at this exact moment. 
--
Three days, that's how long it took for a mission to last before he calls you, mid-day for him, midnight for you. "My love, where are you?" he asks in a panic. "Home, why? Is everything okay?" you ask before he cuts you off. "I was taking a nap and dreamt that you died," he says, nearly out of breath. 
"Trust me, it will be hard to get rid of me, you've got me for at least thirty lifetimes," you say with a smile and he can hear it. He loves it when you distract him with witty comments. "I better have you for more than thirty, my love," he says at that moment, the nickname feels right. More than right. He wants to keep calling you that until his dying breath. 
--
It was a random evening. You were stuck figuring out some hobby of yours as he cooked dinner. And as he waits for the food to be done baking he leans on the counter and looks out the window. 
He thought about the one time he dodged a failed relationship with you. 
What if you hadn't sat down and talked it out? Would you be in another man's arms? Would you be giving them the kisses that belong to him? What if your cuddles belonged to another guy? 
Your laugh rings in his ears and he can't imagine you laughing at any other man's jokes but his. Who but you to laugh at his jokes, your hand on his shoulder or chest as your eyes crinkle at the corners like always? 
It hits him suddenly that all those years ago when he told you that he would never be someone's husband should have never been said. You know why. It is because he won't be someone's husband, not when in his mind he has been yours all along. Sure he doesn't have the official title but the nose kisses you give him, the ones where he pretends to hate them with a grumble are something. 
--
"There is something, something I lied about years ago when I met you." he begins. You're in his lap, surely it isn't to end this sweet love. "I find myself hating on what I said, hating that it's been a lie. I love you," his voice softens at those three words, he sighs and looks into your eyes. "I have no idea what my life looks like from the outside, but when I look at my future, there is one thing I see," he clears his throat. "You, I see you and me. I always thought of myself as the guy everyone forgets about, because he had three friends and that was it."
He takes your hand in his, "And then, you came along, and I see a life, I see myself in ways I never did before. Youchanged me, you make me want to keep coming home, coming to hold you, to show you I will never break my promise." His lips find your knuckles, "I have no fucking idea what life is after you because I don't want a life after you, I want my life to be spent here. I have no clue what or who I was before you came into my life. What would I do without? No clue but I know what to do with you now," he looks into your eyes and you see how much he means every word. 
"Just promise me this, stay with me." he gently gets up and your gaze shifts as now you look up at him. "Stay, because I am nothing but a lifeless soldier, looking for someone and I'm done looking, y/n, I found you and that's all I need now," he says. 
He gets down on one knee, "Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He asks, his gaze full of so much hope and in that moment, your heart races. Tears well up in your eyes and you nod. Speechless but with a huge grin, you nod. 
"Yes," you manage to say. You don't even notice the ring, but you feel him slide it onto your ring finger. He smiles, like a child on Christmas as he gets up and embraces you, making sure this isn't him creating an illusion. 
"Oh, my love," his voice muffled, face buried in your neck. "I love you so much and I will prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. I will make you the happiest woman alive," he says, pulling away and kissing you with conviction. 
Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth
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not-rigel · 2 months ago
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I'm listening
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Rating: M
Warning: description of depression, depressive spiral, self loathing, soft sevika, sevika comforts you, sevikas love language is gift giving, words of affirmation is a very close second, I wrote this to cope with my emotions I hope that serves as a BIG WARNING, literally didnt sleep because I was writing this.
WC: 1.4
Darkness embraces you, literally and mentally, while you sit in your room. It's the dead of the night, the worst time for thoughts like the ones crowding your mind to exist. Each horrible thought stacked one atop the other, increasing in cruelty. 
A knock comes at your door and you're ready to pretend you're not home but you hear a familiar voice calling your name. 
“Open up. I got your fancy knife you asked for,” Sevika says on the other side of the door. 
You remember you mentioned wanting a specific knife, and Sevika offered to find it for you. But you didn't expect her to show up at your door in the middle of the night and you certainly didn't want her visit to occur in the middle of a spiral. You'd ask her to leave it by the door but you don't want any of your neighbors to help themselves to your new weapon. 
Shelving your self hatred, you make the exhausting walk to your door and open it for her. Sevika hears your footsteps approach and has the knife held out for you to take. She couldn't wait to give it to you, excited to see your reaction. 
But when you open the door and glance down at the knife in her hand, you don't look delighted. Instead you're indifferent. Sevika suddenly questions if she somehow misremembered which knife she was supposed to get you. 
“Did I get the wrong one?” She turns it over in her hand, checking the engraving on the hilt. She confirms it's the one you wanted. 
“Nothing like that. It's beautiful. I'm just too tired to appreciate it. Haven't been able to sleep tonight,” you half-lie. You gingerly take it from her hand and try to close the door but she holds it open. 
“Wait, I got you something else too,” she digs into her back pocket and pulls out a lighter. “For your candles,” she explains. Months ago she noticed you kept a candle lit inside your home so she brings you a new one whenever she can. A nice lighter felt like a long overdue addition. 
Still, you don't react and it worries Sevika. This can't just be because you're tired. She's been around you enough to know what you're like when you're sleep deprived and this wasn't it. She knows better than to outright ask if you're okay so she tries a different approach. 
“Is there something going on that I don't know about? I can tell you're not just tired,” she pries. 
“Personal shit. Nothing to worry about. Thanks for the knife and lighter. I really do appreciate it.” 
“Can you talk to me about it?” 
“I don't know. You probably won't understand.” You're trying to reject her support but Sevika won't stand for it. 
“Try me,” she urges and for a reason you cannot decipher, you pull your door wider so she can step in, shutting and locking it behind her. She's been in your home several times, walking over to your couch and taking a seat like it's her own. You timidly sit next to her, picking your cuticles and holding a staring contest with the floor. It takes a while for your words to find you. 
“I uh… Just keep having bad thoughts. It starts out small like… I'm not going to get enough sleep in time for work tomorrow then it becomes I'm not good enough at my job because I can't get enough sleep at night and it makes me perform badly. Then it's just… I'm not good enough period because no matter what I do, I'll mess up in some way and I'm just running around aimless. Trying one thing after another like it'll ever work out. All I could think before you showed up was I'm a failure,” you unload a few of your thoughts to Sevika and she listens intently. 
You're a bit caught by surprise when her strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. She gently pulls you across the couch and into her chest. Her right hand cups the back of your neck. 
When she speaks there's only softness in her voice, “I understand. I can't stop you from having those thoughts but I understand. Tell me more,” she soothes, determined to help you through this. She's never heard you speak like this, never heard such harsh words from your mouth. And it killed her inside that they were about yourself. 
You pull back to look up at her. Sevika was usually so stony, expression steeled into a scowl. But all of that roughness was gone. It's too intense and you look back to the floor. 
“I feel ridiculous and repulsive and stupid and worthless and hopeless and empty and like there's no fix for it. It's like I'm remembering every bad memory at once.”
Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your head upwards gently so she could look at you properly.
“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to look me in the eyes okay?” she asks you, knowing she's asking for a lot at the moment. Even if it's a gesture as small as eye contact. You frown as you fight to pull your gaze from the floor. Sevika watches the struggle heartbroken but she knows you can do it. Eventually, your eyes meet hers and she sighs in relief. 
Her fingers move from your chin to your cheek, holding you to keep your gaze on her, “Listen closely, okay? I need you to not look away. Can you do that? For me?” 
“I'm listening,” you promise, now that you're looking at her you're not able to break from her hypnotic stare. She takes a moment to think of what to say. 
“You’re a good person. Not just a good person, a great person. You don't deserve the blame you give yourself,” she affirms and you listen to every word. You face twitches, lips trying to pull into a frown and brows trying to pinch into a furrow. The words aren't enough to get past the wall but they weaken the foundation. 
“You still listening?” She checks in, making sure you won't shut down. She knows she would try to tune out every word to avoid feeling their weight. 
You nod, eyes welling with tears and sniffling up the snot that drips from your nose. 
“Good. Keep listening,” she continued to hold eye contact with you, “You're smart, you're resourceful, you're good at what you do, you're appreciated, and you're loved.” 
You can't stop the tears now. Sevika avoids lying, feeling like people only lie when they have something to gain and there's nothing she wants from most people. If anything, Sevika felt using the truth is what earns the most. With your tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto her thumb, she earned the sight of seeing you vulnerable. Sevika has never held something so fragile before. You were so frail, looking up at her with glassy eyes that made her afraid if she moved a finger you would shatter. But when she wiped the tears from your cheek, you remained intact. 
“I- I'm loved?” you heave between cries. Love is a strong word and it's rarely uttered in the Undercity so it's hard to know who really cares about you. You felt guilty for doubting Sevika's words, knowing she's trying her best to comfort you. 
“You're loved by me,” her confession is groundbreaking. Her thumb moved to feel the stream of tears, not wiping them away but allowing them to exist. 
“I never said it but I love you. And I have so many reasons to. Because you're more capable than you believe yourself to be. Because you're resilient. Because you mean the world to me. But mostly because you need love and I need to be the one who gives it to you.” 
Sevika needs to give you everything you need, needs to be the one to hold your face like this every time you cry. Needs to be the one to tell you how beautiful and wonderful you are. She needs to be the one you seek. Be the one to bring you gifts because she can't help but think about you.
“I love you too, Sevika. I'm sorry but … I wish I knew the person you're describing,” you sobbed. 
“No, don't apologize. You are that person, you might not see it that way but you are the person I'm describing. You'll see it one day. I promise. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, convince you that you're any other than the person I'm describing. Are you listening to me?” 
“Yes, I'm listening.” 
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b1tchyboyxd · 2 months ago
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˚₊‧꒰ა A oneshot for you guys ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Daddy's home kids and I brought the milk 🔥🔥🔥
So this is very bad, it's late and I'm sleepy. I only wrote this because I haven't posted in months and I have to feed you, my children.
Scenario ⊱ ☆ ⊰ :: Your boyfriend wakes you up in the middle of the night to f★ck you <3 (Smut yay!!)
W :: I don't know how to write Smut. It's really shitty, but fuck this shit.
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In the darkness of the night, your peaceful sleep was suddenly broken by the feeling of a warm hand shaking your shoulder. It was your boyfriend, awake and clearly up for something more than sleep. He gently rolled you onto your back, his hand grazing your waist as he straddled your hips, the weight of his body pressing against you.
"Wake up." he whispered, his voice husky with arousal, his gaze intense even in the dim light.
He trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch both a caress and a command.
"I need you," he murmured, his other hand slipping under your shirt to trace circles on your bare skin with his fingertips, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched.
"I can't wait," he continued, his voice a little husky as he began to rock his hips against yours.
His breath was hot against your ear, his words barely registering as your mind tried to catch up with the situation.
But your body was certainly awake now, responding to his touches.
His breath was hot against your ear, his words barely registering as your mind tried to catch up with the situation.
His mouth found yours in the dark, the kiss slow and sensual at first but quickly building in intensity. His tongue moved against yours, mimicking the motion of his hips in a slow, torturous rhythm as he pressed himself against you once again.
There was a desperation in his touch that betrayed how much he wanted you.
As if sensing your waking state, his kisses moved from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of heat against your exposed skin.
His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, tossing it aside to give him better access.
His mouth was everywhere; kissing, biting, and teasing in ways that had you arching your body towards him, wanting to be closer.
He took advantage of your position, pushing his hands under you, palming your behind and lifting your hips to meet his.
You could feel him, hard and eager through the thin barrier of his clothes, his movements becoming more insistent as his lips trailed down your neck, sucking and biting at your skin, leaving marks that would be impossible to hide.
He pulled back for a moment, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire.
"I want you so bad..." he whispered, his voice shaky with need. He didn't give you a chance to respond, his mouth back on yours in an instant, the kiss all consuming.
His hands moved to the drawstring of your pajama pants, toying with the tie for a moment before finally pulling it loose.
His fingers dipped under the waistband, teasing the sensitive skin of your hips. He broke the kiss again, his eyes locking with yours, silently asking for permission.
Your breathing hitch at his touch, and you nodded, the tiniest movement of your head letting him know it was okay.
He kissed you again as his hands worked your pants down, his fingers caressing every inch of newly revealed skin.
He quickly disposed of his own clothing, his movements rough and rushed, the desire coursing through him. He didn't waste any time, immediately pressing himself against you, his skin against yours.
His mouth found yours again as his hands skimmed over your body, caressing every curve and dip, his touch setting off a trail of heat and desire.
He shifted his position, pressing against you more fully, the contact both comforting and overwhelming.
His touch was everywhere, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that only added to the heat building between you.
He reached down again, gently taking one of your legs and hooking it around his waist, drawing you closer.
He moved against you, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, his breath catching in his chest as the sensation took over.
He needed you, you could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, and hear it in the sounds he was making against your neck.
He moved slowly at first, every movement calculated, every touch deliberate, his lips finding yours again and again, the kisses growing more needy, more desperate.
He murmured words of praise against your lips, his words a mix of praise and pleasure, making you feel desired and cherished in the same breath.
His hands moved to grip your hips, his touch grounding you even as he gradually increased the pace, the intensity growing exponentially. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, a silent plea for more.
His breath hitched against your skin as the waves of ecstasy grew, his kisses becoming more urgent, his touch more firm.
The heat between you was all-consuming, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the quiet room, your bodies moving in a synchronous rhythm.
His moans mixed with yours, his breath hot on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
He held onto you tightly, fingers digging into your hips as he moved with purpose, the tension between you mounting.
He reached down, hooking his arms under your legs, changing his angle and hitting a spot that had your back arching off the bed.
A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrated against your skin, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you.
His pace picked up, his movements more desperate, the intensity growing with every touch. Your hands found his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as you held onto him, the sensation overwhelming.
He reached down, his fingers finding your hand and lacing them together, pinning it to the bed beside you.
His lips found yours again, the kiss bruising, his tongue swiping across your lower lip as he swallowed the sounds you were making.
His rhythm started to falter, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his release, his breath panting in your ear, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I'm close." he whispered, his voice ragged, his words catching in his throat, his hand tightening around yours. He moved faster, his kisses becoming sloppier, his touch becoming more desperate.
"Come with me." he murmured, his words barely more than a whisper, but the command was clear.
He changed his angle slightly, hitting that spot again, and you could feel the tension in his body
The sensation of his body and the words sent you over the edge, your back arching off the bed as pleasure crashed over you, your grip on his hand tightening as you rode out the waves, his hand squeezed back.
As you came down, he held you, his chest heaving, his pulse racing. He kissed you again, his touch gentler now, his hand releasing your own to stroke your face.
"I love you ~" he murmured against your lips, his breath still unsteady, his words filled with affection and relief.
He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him, your head resting on his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close. He placed light kisses on your forehead, his thumb tracing idle circles on your skin, the after-shocks of pleasure still coursing through your body.
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Goodbye fags, time for disappear for 2 months again
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qatarsprint2023 · 10 months ago
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Birthday morning— OP81
Waking up early isn't Oscar's thing, especially not on his birthday, but he's always, always up for cuddles — Oscar Piastri x f!reader, sleepy Oscar, no use of y/n, implied nsfw content word count: 1.6k a/n: Please ignore that I didn't actually post this on his birthday because I kinda forgot I wrote this in the first place
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A soft groan slips past your lips as you slowly wake up, the sun tickling your face. You try to stretch your body but find yourself trapped in Oscar's arms. His embrace is nice and cozy, his bare chest warm against your skin.
Your eyelids flutter a little as you try to get used to the light filtering into the hotel room through the small space by the window you must've forgotten to cover with the curtain last night after you and Oscar got back from the track.
Instinctively your hand reaches for your phone and you squint as the screen lights up, displaying that one picture of you and Oscar his mum took when you were in Australia over Christmas. It was very weird celebrating Christmas in the middle of summer at first. Well, for you at least.
Your eyes flick up to the time. 7:12
With a sigh you let your head fall back onto the soft pillow. Oscar's got you trapped in a hug and you can't even get up to close the curtain in order to darken the room, so going back to sleep is going to be impossible. Great.
You turn in Oscar's embrace so you're facing his chest that rises and falls gently with every soft breath he takes. His hair is a little tousled and his face squished against the pillow. He looks so beautiful with the light from outside gently illuminating his skin in a soft morning light.
Your eyes travel over his features that look so gentle and innocent as he sleeps— he's got a bit of acne like so many people your age, the freckles that adorn his cheeks aren't that visible yet, but as soon as summer comes around and he sees some sun they'll be more noticeable. His skin is smooth, the stubble he was trying out now gone after you convinced him to shave it.
You let your eyes travel down to his arms as you lazily trace your index finger along one, noticing the firm muscles that tense and relax under your touch until you reach his hand. Your hand reaches for his and you absentmindedly start playing with his fingers, admiring how nice his hand looks.
A quiet groan escapes you as your eyes land on the window again. Sleep isn't on the table anymore. Once the sun is up, that option is out the window.
Your finger trails up Oscar's left arm once more, gently grazing his skin with your nail as you do so. He stirs a bit, a quiet grumble making it's way past his lips.
"Happy birthday," you greet him softly as a smile spreads across your face, careful not to startle him. Your boyfriend however only lets out a soft hum of acknowledgement and keeps his eyes closed as he pulls you in closer and buries his face in your neck.
"Come on," you giggle a bit and brush some of Oscar's hair away from his forehead, a soft smile making its way onto his features at the tender touch. "It's your birthday."
"No..." his voice is drowsy, a bit of a lazy whine as his lips curve up slightly into an almost pouty expression.
The sheets rustle a bit as he shifts in bed, trying to get closer to you. His body is so warm, his skin so soft, and you can't help but smile as you wrap your arms around him, stroking his hair with one hand.
"Yes, it is," you chuckle in reply and place a soft kiss against his temple. "And I'm not gonna let you have a boring birthday morning before Qualifying."
"Can it be boring if I'm just with you?" he mumbles, his words muffled and barely understandable with his face pressed against your neck.
Oscar lets out a soft happy sound and his hand squeezes yours, pulling it towards him. "Mh... comfy..." he mutters and moves his head out of the crook of your neck a bit, only one eye open. "What time is it even?"
His words are laced with sleep, his voice raspy, coated thickly in his accent. It always comes out more when he's just woken up.
"Like, 7:15?" you reply and shrug, not bothering to actually check. "Come on, Osc.. Be excited or something."
"I don't wanna..." his words trail off as he mutters something else from under the blanket he's got pulled up over his chin. "It's too early... And you're comfy." In a smooth motion, he runs his hand up your torso to give your waist a gentle squeeze and feel your soft, warm skin against his.
"And you're being boring," you sigh and let your head drop against his. "What if I had something planned, mh?"
A lazy chuckle leaves Oscar's lips as he snuggles in closer to you. "What if I just wanna stay here with you?" he hums a little and lets his body sinks into yours.
"What would you even plan that's better than sleep?" he queries, his voice still a bit raspy and his face scrunched up as the light shines into his face through the window.
"I'm sure I could come up with something," you shrug and nuzzle your face against his hair, pressing a soft kiss there. Oscar's body begins to relax more, melting into your embrace as he holds you close to his chest.
"Does it involve having to leave this bed before I have to head to work?" he asks with a sigh as you start to gently scratch his scalp. "If so, my answer's no. I'd say I'm rather content here."
"Come on, birthday boy," you let out a chuckle and tilt his face towards you, your lips brushing against his. "Cheer up. You're 23!"
"I know... don't remind me," your boyfriend grumbles, but can't help the hint of a smile that tugs at his lips when yours brush against them.
"But it can't get better than this... It's warm here.. and comfortable.. and you smell nice.. what else do I need?" His voice trails off into silence as he relaxes in your arms, sighing contently.
"Aw, so sweet," you chuckle teasingly, nose lightly bumping against Oscar's as you lean forward, causing him to scrunch up his face.
"Mmhh... don't laugh," Oscar grumbles and lets out a soft whine as his lips curl into a pout. He reaches up and his hand finds your cheek, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. "I'm still tired, and you're being mean."
"How am I being mean?" you laugh and prop yourself up on your arm to get a better view of his face.
"You're literally laughing," he huffs but you know he's not being serious. "I just wanna sleep in a bit with you..." His thumb continues to gently rub soft circles on your cheek as he lets the other hand come to rest on your hip, his arm and hand curling around you to pull you against him so you can get a bit more comfortable.
"Alright, alright," you say defensively and scrunch up your face when he leans down and his hair tickles your face. "If that's what you want."
"Exactly. It's my birthday and choose staying in bed," his voice is still a bit raspy, but he's obviously no longer on the verge of falling asleep again. He doesn't seem to want to talk that much, he's content with just holding you in his arms, cuddling.
Oscar nuzzles his face against you again, taking a deep breath. "You smell nice," he tells you again as his hand pulls your hip a bit closer, his eyes closing as he leans his head a little more into you. "Like... lilac."
"I should hope so. I paid some good money for this perfume," you reply with a smile and lean in to give Oscar's lips a gentle kiss. They're soft and the way his hand lands behind your neck almost instinctively makes you feel safe.
Your boyfriend lets out a soft hum of agreement, his lips pressing against yours a little harder, taking the kiss in as he leans his forehead against yours. His grip tightens around you, holding you close as his hand finds your hip and squeezes ever so slightly, his fingers gently tracing the soft dip of your waistline.
You twist in his embrace to grab your phone once more and check the time, which allows Oscar's arms to snake around your waist from behind.
"Almost eight," you mutter with a sigh and rest your head on the soft mattress once more before shifting out from underneath the covers, finally stretching your arms.
"Hey, hey, where're you going?" Oscar inquiries and blinks a little in confusion, his hand reaching out to grab yours as you sit up.
"I gotta shower, baby," you sigh and swing your legs off the bed. "I still have to get ready and we need to go down for breakfast and you have to be at the track by ten."
The smile on Oscar's face falls slightly as you slip away from his embrace, his fingers wrapping around your own as you make your way out of the bed.
"But I just like being in bed with you," he complains somewhat half-jokingly, his other hand reaching out to you as he tries to stop you from escaping.
"Come on, just a bit longer," he whines and lets his head fall back onto the pillow where he lets his body sink into the mattress once more.
"You can come with me if you want," you suggest with a small smile and the most subtle of winks before turning to leave the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.
At the mention of joining you, Oscar is wide awake, sitting up in bed with an excited smile as he watches you leave the room, his gaze following your figure before he rolls out of bed himself.
You feel a smile tugging at your lips as you take notice of the footsteps behind you and feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, his lips finding their way to your neck, knowing you did manage to make his birthday morning not so boring in the end.
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writerinlearning · 22 days ago
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𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭 | The One Where… Series.
plot: the one where henry saves swellview and accidentally reveals his secret identity to his oldest friend.
pairing: henry hart x fem!reader.
show: henry danger
warnings: none that i can think of. maybe some brief mention of blood and injuries.
word count: 5,3k
author’s notes: english isn’t my first language, so my apologies for the possible mistakes. this has been proofread so there shouldn’t be many mistakes, but still. this piece is a part of my the one where... series, of which you can find the masterlist linked below. it’s my first time writing for henry danger but uh, lately i found myself rewatching shows i used to watch before going to college and my current hyperfixations have been henry danger and lab rats, so here you go. not sure if anyone’s going to read this, or if anyone’s going to enjoy this, but i wrote this because i wanted to and i just thought i’d share it. i hope you enjoy!
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series masterlist || main masterlist
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Henry doesn’t mean to wake up one of his best friends in the middle of a school night, but truthfully, he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t know whether Charlotte and Jasper had made it out of Junk’N’Stuff in time before the collapse of all the Man Caves; he didn’t know where Piper and his parents were but he knew they weren’t at home; and he had no idea where Ray had ended up landing after deploying his parachute. Schwoz was still somewhere in the airport, last Henry knew. And besides, Henry had gone down with the blimp straight into Mount Swellview, and he still did not understand how he was still alive, but he knew his friends probably thought he’d died upon impact. That's why he found himself knocking on his best friend’s window at half past one in the morning on a school night, because her place was the first one he thought of when he woke up amongst the debris from the blimp. She is the only one unaware of his double life as Kid Danger, Captain Man’s sidekick. 
He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the light being turned on behind her curtains. He hears her footsteps getting closer, and the panic settles in his mind when he suddenly realizes he hasn’t changed back to his regular clothes. He’s still very much in his Kid Danger uniform, but he has no time to chew some gum and blow a bubble to hide his secret identity from Y/N because just as he realises he’s still in his superhero uniform, she pulls back the curtains from her window and opens the latch, making Henry stumble forward into her room, landing face first on her carpeted floor.
“K– Kid Danger?”
Her voice is soft and full of sleep, and Henry realizes she has yet to see his face. A groan leaves his lips, and he uses the strength he has left in him to push himself back up, bracing himself for her reaction upon seeing his face, half-revealed due to the half-ripped mask, as he sits against the wall under her window. 
“Hen– Henry?”
“Hey Y/N…”
Henry greets her with a sheepish smile as she stumbles back onto her bed. Her hands have flown to her mouth to muffle a gasp, probably trying to keep quiet so as to not wake up her parents. She blinks once, shaking her head.
“Oh my god…” She breathes out, reality settling in. “Oh my god! Oh my god! My best friend is Kid Danger… My best friend is Kid Danger!”
Her voice rises an octave higher with each sentence, eyes widening in full realization as she looks anywhere but at Henry sitting on her floor with his back against the wall. She stands up from her bed, arms falling at her sides as she starts pacing back and forth the length of her bedroom, muttering under her breath.
“I– I can’t believe it…” She whispers to herself, before she starts to ramble. “I– I mean… I kind of believe it now… It all makes sense. I knew something was fishy with you, and Charlotte and Jasper… even Piper… oh my god! They all knew you’re Kid Danger!” She says to herself, quickly glancing at Henry before averting her eyes and she begins pacing again. “I can't believe you lied to me. H– How did I not notice? You’re such a terrible liar! You’ve always been, ever since we’ve known each other, you’ve never been a good liar!” She pauses, taking a deep breath, and she runs a frustrated hand through her dishevelled hair. “I– I should have known… I should have figured it out! H– How did I not figure it out? H– How did you keep this from me? Wh– Why did you keep this from me?”
Her last question comes out as a heartbroken whisper, and Henry feels his chest tightens. He tries to forget about the pain spreading through his limbs from the blimp crash, his eyes solely focused on his oldest friend. He watches as she sits back on her mattress, head in her hands, and he swears he can hear his heart break when she finally looks him in the eyes, and he can see the tears welling up in hers. He bites down on his lip, lowering his gaze to her suddenly very interesting floor. He doesn’t know what to tell her, nor where to begin. By now, everyone probably believes that his alter-ego has died when the blimp crashed onto Mount Swellview, sacrificing himself for the good of the city. And Y/N is, as far as he is aware, the only one who knows that Kid Danger is still alive. 
But Y/N doesn’t say anything, and for a while Henry believes she has left her room because he cannot hear anything except for his rapid heartbeat and his trembling breath as he tries to forget about the pain in his body. Then, he feels a gentle touch on his shoulder and he lifts his head up, locking eyes with her. He wants to look away in shame, again, but her lips carve a gentle smile across her features, and she holds his gaze to hers as she drops down on the floor beside him, sitting cross-legged.
Y/N doesn’t know what to say to her best friend, her thoughts running wild in her mind. When she went to bed earlier, she did not expect to see Kid Danger standing outside her window at half past one in the morning. And she certainly did not expect Kid Danger to be her best friend. And yet, here he is, sitting on her bedroom floor with his silver and red mask half-ripped across his face, black ashes smeared across his skin, and pieces of his sidekick uniform burned here and there. She bites the inside of her cheek as she takes in his appearance, her gaze quickly flickering to the trails of dried blood hidden behind the ashes on his face. She sees him wince out in pain, inhaling sharply as he wraps an arm around his torso as if he were trying to stop the pain. 
“A– Are you okay?” She asks, almost tentatively.
“I’ll live.”
Henry chuckles, but he grows quiet again when she glares at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Of course she can see right through him; they have known each other since they were babies, there is no point in lying to her. Especially when she can clearly see that he is not exactly fine. She just asked out of politeness. 
He watches as she stands up and disappears in the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom, returning after a few minutes with a first-aid kit in her hands and a couple towels. She stays quiet as she sits back down beside him, handing him one of the towels before she opens the small red bag to take out some cotton pads and antiseptic.
“You’re covered in ashes.” She says without looking at him.
Henry lets out a breath, muttering a small sorry before he brings the towel to his face to wipe off the ashes. He stays silent when she takes the hand towel away from him, shifting her body so that she’s facing him, and she raises a hand to dab the cotton pad she holds against the cuts on his face. He bites down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a wince, but he can tell she noticed it when she whispers a small sorry and avert her eyes from his. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Henry blurts out when she’s done cleaning his face. He takes a deep breath. “I– I made an oath, back when I started, and… Piper found out by accident, it’s a long story. And Charlotte figured it out on her own, she was the first one to know and– and Jasper… Well, that one is kind of my fault actually. I thought he’d found out on his own, but it turns out it was something completely different and I ended up revealing myself to him. But them knowing? It put them in all kinds of danger, and I– I couldn’t put you through it too. I couldn’t risk something happening to you, if you knew about Kid Dan–”
“Henry?” Y/N interrupts him, and he sees the gentle smile on her face. “I understand.”
She says simply, and Henry lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 
“I have questions, though.” She says next, and Henry tilts his head in confusion. “When we were fourteen, and I got stuck in an out-of-control elevator… Captain Man sent Kid Danger to help me. That was you?”
Y/N glances up to her friend with an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t know exactly how long he’s been Kid Danger, and perhaps someone else had had that role before him so she wasn’t certain he’d been the one rescuing her that day. When he cracks a smile, however, she knows it had been him, and she returns his smile. 
“And the time that– that Doctor Maniac tried to take me because he thought I knew Kid Danger.” Y/N recalls, keeping up with her interrogations. “And Captain Man and Kid Danger just so happened to be where he was… that’s because you knew he’d come after me?”
“It's Minyak.” Henry corrects her, chuckling, but he looks down when she gives him a pointed stare. “But yeah… yeah, I knew.”
“How?”
“Jasper accidentally spoke out your name and mine when Doctor Minyak put a tab on the emergency line in the Man Cave.”
“Does he still know who you are?”
“No.” Henry shakes his head. “Captain Man wiped his memory of you and me. Minyak has no memory of who you are, and he only remembers me as Kid Danger, not Henry.”
Y/N nods and falls quiet, trying to process everything whilst she remembers the countless times she’s encountered Captain Man and Kid Danger, whether she was in actual danger or not. How had she never noticed the similarities between her best friend and the superhero’s sidekick? How did Henry manage to hide his secret identity from her for so long? She lets out a sigh, running her free hand over her face, before she turns to face her best friend.
“You look like you need some ice.” She says, nodding toward his arm across his torso. “I’ll be right back.”
Henry wants to say something, tell her that it’s not necessary but she is already walking out of her room, her footsteps soft against the carpeted floor. He glances at the clock on her bedside table, the bright red numbers letting him know he’d showed up to her window thirty minutes ago. 
It doesn’t take Y/N long to return with a bag of frozen peas tucked under her arm, two empty glasses in one hand and a pitcher full of water in the other. She puts them on her bedside table, and then she whispers a small catch before throwing the bag of frozen peas at Henry. He grunts when the bag hits his lap, but he picks it up and presses it against his left side, the pain flaring up in his limbs as the cold seeps through his uniform. 
“Here.” Y/N says, dropping fresh clothes next to him.
Henry realizes she doesn’t know about the bubble gum, or anything related to his Kid Danger life. He doesn’t need the clothes, he just needs to pop a bubble to change from his uniform, and yet he appreciates the gesture and he smiles when he sees the blush across her cheeks.
“Y– you can use the bathroom t– to change.” She stutters. “Your uniform is ruined.”
Henry hums in response and struggles to get up. He picks up the clothes from the floor, a brown long-sleeved shirt and a pair of plaid pants which he recognizes as his, and he heads for her bathroom. 
When he returns from her bathroom, Y/N is sitting cross-legged on her mattress, and she is fiddling with her fingers, biting down on her lower lip. Henry sits next to her, the bag of frozen peas still pressed against his side, and he puts his free hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Thanks, for the clothes.” He tells her.
“I told you leaving clothes at each other’s place would come in handy.” Y/N smiles, gently nudging his shoulder. 
Henry shakes his head, and he sees the clock on her bedside table again displaying the time: 2:10AM. Guilt washes over him and he averts his eyes from her, her bed covers becoming interesting. 
“I'm sorry.” He apologizes. “F– for showing up at your window in the middle of the night. I– I didn't know where else to go…”
“What happened?”
Her voice is soft, and full of concern, pulling Henry in to look at her. He sees the way she bites on her lower lip, and he knows she’s worried. She always does this when she worries.
“It's not that bad.” He says, trying to reassure her. “You should see the other guy.”
That's a lie, and he knows it. Drex was dropped into Swellview’s prison by Jasper via drone before he could reach the ground so, even without his indestructibility, Drex is fine. Better than Henry. But when he sees her brows furrow and the sharp line on her lips, he sighs and shakes his head. 
“I crashed down on top of Mount Swellview with a blimp.” Henry blurts out. 
“What?!” Y/N shouts without thinking, and Henry winces.
“It would’ve crashed into the Swellview Baby Hospital if I didn’t do anything!” He justifies himself. “I couldn't just stand by and watch.”
“You could’ve died! How are you not dead?”
Y/N springs up from her bed, and she begins pacing back and forth again, running her hands through her hair and tugging at some strands in frustration. But that’s one question Henry doesn’t have the answer to, how he is still alive. He wishes he could give her an answer, and he probably could have if Schowz was around with a logical explanation to it. Unfortunately, the clock was reaching two fifteen in the morning, and Schowz probably thought Henry died, like everyone else thought in this town.
“I wish I could give you an answer to that question.” Henry admits when Y/N sits back down next to him with a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “Truth is, I have no idea. I was on top of the blimp, steering it away from the baby hospital into Mount Swellview. Next thing I know, a bird ricocheted off of me and I crashed into the mountain.”
Y/N stays silent, trying to process everything that her best friend has dropped on her as she looks down on her lap. It suddenly dwells on her just how much danger her best friend has put himself through. She remembers everything she’d seen on the news about Kid Danger and Captain Man, and she wonders how Henry has managed to stay alive after six years, give or take. She doesn’t know for how long he’s been Kid Danger, but she can take a guess.
“You had to be a hero, didn’t you?” Y/N says, and Henry can hear the judgemental tone in her usually soft-spoken voice. “I still can’t understand how you’re still alive… I mean, you literally crashed on top of Mount Swellview! The impact should have killed you. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy that you’re alive, because I would have killed you if I found out from Charlotte or Piper, or even Jasper that you died. I would have found a way to bring you back to life, just to kill you again for dying while trying to be a hero.”
She is on a rant again, which makes Henry smile a little. He cannot blame her for ranting so much, he did hide a lot of things from her for the past six years, and he knows she must have a lot of questions for him. 
“Oh my god!” Her voice reaches his ears again. “Does anyone know that Kid Danger is at my house?”
Henry shakes his head. “No. Not even Charlotte or Jasper. Or Piper. They probably think Kid Danger is dead.”
Y/N looks at Henry with wide eyes. How can he be so chill about the whole situation, she wonders. Then again, he must have gone through crazy things while being Captain Man’s sidekick.
She runs a hand through her hair, another sigh leaving past her lips as she looks up to her best friend. Without thinking much of it, she rests her head on his shoulder as she fiddles with her fingers. If she had paid any attention to that, she would have noticed how her best friend stiffened afterward, trying not to move an inch, afraid to disrupt her comfort. He knows how tired she must be, and he is aware that today is graduation day; the last day of high school ever. He knows how much she is looking forward to it. But here they were, at two fifteen in the morning, awake and unable to sleep because he’d knocked on her window at half past one. 
“Why do they think you’re dead?”
Her voice comes out as a sleepy whisper, and Henry isn’t sure he’s heard her right. But even if he didn’t, she has the right to know the truth. Perhaps there are some things he can leave out, but he owes her the truth; he knows that.
“Well… when I started being Captain Man’s sidekick,” Henry begins, “I didn’t have any superpowers. Then one day, there was this criminal, Drex. He escaped prison by accident and I found out he used to be Captain Man’s first sidekick. I obviously couldn’t defeat him when he came after Captain Man and me; I’m sure you’ve seen that video of Kid Danger getting spanked by Drex back then.” He pauses and Y/N hums, letting him know that she did see that video two years ago. “Anyway, because Drex had trapped Captain Man’s hands in a Nut Cluster machine and his head in a box, I had to take on Drex on my own, so he had his science genius to call on people from his weird country in order for me to gain superpowers– like Captain Man’s indestructibility.”
“Your hyper-motility, right?” Y/N asks him with a yawn. “I remember hearing about it on the news, when people started dumping rocks on their head because they thought Kid Danger had an incurable disease.”
Henry lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, but hyper-motility is actually super fast reflexes, like hand-eye and foot-eye coordination.” Y/N nods in understanding, allowing him to continue. “Anyway…” Henry goes on, “after facing Drex, twice, there was this guy, Rick Twitler, who wanted to destroy the internet forever by using a super fast and indestructible virus. Long story short, he tried to steal Captain Man’s indestructibility and he stole my hyper-motility. I managed to get it back for a few hours through science and a super fast bee, but Schowz had created an antidote against the virus that could also take back my powers forever if my skin touched it.”
“You touched it, didn’t you?”
“Not the point… but yes. I had to, to win against Rick Twitler’s virus. The vial had broken on the ground and I had to take off my gloves during the fight if I didn’t want to turn into an evil virus person. I had no idea where Captain Man was, and I had to stop the virus from reaching the satellites, so I gathered what was left of the antidote in my hands and I smeared it onto the virus, destroying it and losing my powers in the process.”
Henry sighs as he recalls his fight against Rick Twitler’s virus, wondering if he’d still have his hyper-motility had Captain Man been with him in the satellite dish when it happened. Y/N shifts next to him, removing her head from his shoulder as she brings a hand up to scratch her scalp, like she did every time she was thinking about something. 
“So…” she trails out, “you what? Lost your powers around six months ago? Right?” Henry nods and Y/N goes on. “You should have died tonight, when you crashed with the blimp…”
She states in disbelief. She stands up from her bed and begins to pace again. Henry doesn’t know what to say to her, because he himself has no explanation for what happened.
“And, who’s Schowz?” She asks her best friend then, raising a brow. 
“He’s a science genius that works for Captain Man.” Henry tells her. “He’s the one who called on the people who gave me my hyper-motility.”
Y/N nods her head, but Henry can tell she’s still thinking about something. Perhaps she’s trying to figure out how it’s possible that he’s still alive after the blimp incident. She lets out a soft sigh when she sits next to him again and rests her head back on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his own as she begins to fiddle with a corner of the frozen bag of peas. It’s not so frozen anymore, and Henry doubts it does much to ease the pain of the growing bruise on his side, but he doesn’t want Y/N to be mad at him if he discards it somewhere in her room. He can feel her body growing heavier as she leans into him, and when she groans he knows she is fighting against the sleep that threatens to overpower her. He wants to tell her to go to sleep, that he’ll sneak out of her room through the window, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He knows the cavemen that Drex had sent have destroyed most of his house, and he cannot just show up like nothing happened. He doesn’t know whether Captain Man, or his friends, or even his parents, have gone to see the remnants of the blimp crash onto Mount Swellview. He doesn’t know if they believe he’s dead, or if they figured he’s still alive after not finding his body amongst the debris from the crash.
“Maybe we should call Charlotte.” Y/N says eventually, cutting through the comfortable silence and pulling Henry away from his thoughts. “Maybe she has an explanation as to why you’re not dead. Or maybe we should call Captain Man’s sciencey guy; maybe he knows what’s up with you.”
Her voice fades in the background as Henry suddenly remembers: the Omega Weapon. It dwells on him like a meteor falling from the sky straight onto the Earth. The weapon they used to strip Drex from his indestructibility, stripping Captain Man of his in the process. When Henry used the Omega Weapon on them, it went off with a blast that knocked out everyone standing close to the weapon. He jerks forwards, dropping the bag of peas onto Y/N’s bed, and his best friend comes into focus when she yelps out in surprise and he looks at her, eyes wide in realisation. 
“The Omega Weapon.” Henry breathes out.
“The what now?” Y/N asks, somehow fully awake now.
“The Omega Weapon. It’s something Schowz built in order to take away Drex’s indestructibility, and I guess something happened when I fired it.” He pauses, extending one hand towards her. “Give me your phone.”
“What? Why?”
“Mine broke during the crash. Give me your phone.”
Y/N shakes her head and reluctantly gives her phone to Henry. She doesn’t even need to unlock it because she knows he knows her password. He has it memorized by heart in the back of his mind. She watches as he composes an unknown number and presses the call button. He puts the phone on speaker, and the pair of them can hear three ringtones before someone answers on the other side of the line.
“Y/N? How do you know this number?” Charlotte’s voice echoes on the line.
“Charlotte!” Henry says before Y/N can speak. “Is Schowz with you?”
“Henry? You’re alive? Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”
“Charlotte, please! I need to talk to Schowz.”
The two friends can hear Charlotte groan on the other side of the line, followed by more chatters and questions, before a voice with a thick accent answers the phone.
“It’s me! Schowz, from work!”
“Schowz! It’s Henry. I need to know, did anything happen to the kids who were with us at the Swellview Airport after I fired the Omega Weapon at Ray and Drex?”
“Kids?!” Y/N whisper-shouts, hitting Henry’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me there were kids!”
“Not now Y/N, please.” Henry whispers back, pleading with his eyes.
“Eh, yeah, yeah. They have powers now.”
Henry can hear more commotion on the other side of the line, and he can imagine either Charlotte or Ray snatching the phone from Schowz’s hands.
“Henry?” It’s Charlotte again. “What happened? I thought you were going to steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”
“I did! It crashed!”
“And then he came to my house!” Y/N interrupted, standing up. “Dressed as Kid Danger!”
“How are you ali– wait… You know Henry’s Kid Danger, Y/N?” Charlotte asks, now realizing Y/N is, indeed, with Henry.
“Yeah, I do! He showed up at my window in the middle of the night, in his Kid Danger uniform! Now, before I go mad with more questions, is anyone going to tell me how Henry is still alive after crashing into Mount Swellview with a goddamn blimp?”
Henry winces when Y/N raises her voice, and he picks up on the worry and fear hidden behind her words. Yes, he did not tell her about his secret identity to protect her, and yes, she had told him she understood why he didn’t tell her, but she’s always been a better liar than him, and he realises just how worried and hurt and afraid she is about the whole situation. His chest tightens, and he swallows the growing lump in his throat as he watches her face fall when she looks at him. He sees the hurt, and the concern hidden behind her irises, and the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks. Instinctively, he reaches out for her hand and he squeezes it softly in comfort as he pulls her toward him, and she finally sits down next to him, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.
“I think the Omega weapon gave you powers.” Charlotte says through the phone. “Like it gave powers to Miles, Chapa and Bose; the kids that were with you and Ray at the Swellview Airport. Did you glow somehow, before the crash?”
“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I did.” Henry tells her, but he keeps his eyes on Y/N. “And a bird ricocheted off of me. Like I was protected from it crashing into me, somehow.”
“I think the Omega weapon gave you a force field.” Schowz’s voice echoes.
“And it kept you from going up in flames with the blimp.” Charlotte adds.
Y/N lets out a relieved breath; they finally have a logical explanation, of sorts. She closes her eyes as she lets herself fall backward onto her bed, her hand slipping from Henry’s. Opening her eyelids again, she looks up at her ceiling with tears brimming the corner of her eyes. Henry glances at her from above his shoulder, body slumping down from seeing the current state she’s in. He glances back at the phone, sighing when he can hear Ray in the background, shouting at God knows who for yet another person knowing about Kid Danger being Henry.
“I uh– I gotta go.” Henry says. “Thanks Charlotte. And Schowz. I’ll catch you later.”
He doesn’t give them the time to answer, having already pressed down onto the ending call button. He carefully puts his friend’s phone onto her bedside table, and he lets himself fall down beside her with a wince as the pain spreads through his body. He shifts in his spot as he lays beside her, and he slightly turns his head to look at her.
“You would have died, if you didn’t have a superpower…” Y/N whispers, her voice breaking a little. “You were willing to go down with the blimp, not knowing you actually had powers. You were willing to die, Hen… Why?”
Henry can see the tears silently escaping the corner of her eyes, falling onto her bedsheets. There are a number of possibilities as to why she would cry now, and not earlier; it could be the stress of the situation wearing off of her, or the sudden understanding of how dangerous his life actually is and she was left in the dark for all of it. Or it could be an entirely different reason, he actually had no idea why she was crying.
“Why did you have to be a hero, all of the sudden?” She asks and her voice waivers. “Couldn’t you just let Captain Man steer the blimp into Mount Swellview?”
“I’m not graduating tomorrow.” Henry admits, ignoring her second question as he turns his head to look up at her ceiling, avoiding her eyes. “I didn’t get enough credits, because I was too busy saving this town with Ray– I mean, Captain Man. I forgot to have a life of my own.”
From his answer, Y/N can figure out two things; one: that Ray, Henry’s boss at Junk’N’Stuff, is also Captain Man; and two: he probably wouldn’t have chosen to crash down with the blimp if he were graduating high school. For some reason, however, she understands why Henry did what he did; that perhaps in the heat of the moment, going down as a hero was the best option if he weren’t graduating. She sniffles, rolling around her mattress as she props herself up onto one arm, looking at her best friend.
“You still have summer school.” She says after thinking about his answer. “You can attend to have enough credits to graduate. Like Piper. She managed to graduate tomorrow because of summer classes, right?”
Henry hums in response, the exhaustion of the events settling into every bone in his body. Tiredness seeps into his limbs, and he tries with all his might to keep his eyes open. He doesn’t want to fall asleep in his best friend’s bed when he was the one waking her up in the first place. Then again, he has nowhere to sleep. The Man Caves have all been blown up, and his house had completely been trashed down by the cavemen sent by Drex.
“You know what?” Y/N asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I’ll help you study for summer classes, so you can get your credits.”
“Why?” Henry wonders.
“There is no way I’m going to let my best friend be stuck in high school without me. Remember what we promised each other when we were four?”
Henry chuckles. Of course he remembers the promise they made to each other when they were four. How could he forget about it, when his mother had snapped a picture of this moment and he had it framed on his bedside table at home. He turns around on her bed, facing her and mimicking her position, resting his head in the palm of his hand as he smiles at her.
“How could I forget? You know I have that picture on my bedside table.”
“So… deal?” She asks, a knowing smirk on her lips. “You know it’s always going to be you and me, no matter what.”
Henry lets out a laugh, shaking his head at her antics. “Deal.”
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ⓒ writerinlearning – 2025
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saturnniidae · 7 months ago
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More dragon rider disability headcanons for disability pride month!
(Ones specifically abt Hiccup are here)
Ruffnut has hypermobile EDS (when the twins were doing some bit that was basically Guinness book of world records she said smth abt 'worlds stretchiest skin' and my mom made a joke and said 'ruff has eds!' And it stuck)
A joke Ruffnut loves to make is saying Tuff is so insufferable she should just run away to join a circus and become a contortionist. She thinks it's the funniest thing ever
Hiccup also has some weird hypermobility stuff going on, when Ruff learns this she calls him a fellow circus freak (affectionate) and offers to let him come with her when she runs away. The response she got was "I'd rather stick my hand in Fenrir's mouth."
Tuff is visually impaired in his right eye from a childhood injury (another joke taken seriously)
All the riders are neurodivergent!
Snotlout has a frequently irregular heartbeat as well as memory issues due to how many times he's been struck by lightning. His whole book he wrote in that one episode isn't the only writing he does, he keeps a notebook to help keep track of minor things he might forget.
Astrid tries to make Hiccup breakfast in bed when he's having bad pain days and is too tired to do it himself. She almost burns the house down every time, so Toothless will go and get the other riders to help out while Astrid is kicked out of the kitchen and sent back to bed
Hiccup can be really fucking mean sometimes! Usually it's intentional bc he's in a bad mood and wants to be left alone. If it's seemingly unprovoked though, the others know it as a sign he's likely in pain and needs to be left alone (he still insists on getting work done but usually Toothless annoys him into resting)
Astrid has aches in her leg from when she got shot with that arrow, it being poisoned with dragon root did something to mess up the healing process so its worse than other old injuries (Dragon root isn't poisonous to humans but still having it in your blood stream isn't a good idea). She's also very mean when she's in pain, especially because it ruins her schedule since she can't train. Eventually her and Hiccup come to an agreement when they're having bad pain days they'll meet up in one of their huts and just. Sit together enjoying the others comforting presence but rarely talking
This is because Hiccup and Astrid both hate being in pain in front of people, they both share that almost extreme fear of vulnerability and the best they can do is take comfort in each other
Hiccup and Fishlegs are hyperfixation buddies! Fishlegs is the only one who doesn't get mad (it's just fond exasperation) when Hiccup wakes him up in the middle of the night to infodump, they just bounce off each other talking about dragons until woah suddenly the sun is rising and that is when Fishlegs gets upset because he values his sleep
All the riders have burn scars of varying severity. They literally work with dragons there's no way they wouldn't. And they all deal with their pain in different ways, but are unwavering supportive of each other when they can be
I've said it before and I'll say it again, a lot of characters should be disabled.
I know, cartoon logic and all, but the things that happen to these guys are things that should affect them for the rest of their lives. And watching characters struggle with permanent change like that, the realization you can never go back to how things were, and eventually healing and learning that's okay! You can still find happiness and be happy and it doesn't make your pain any less valid! It's so important to me and that's obviously reflected in my interpretations of my favorite characters lmao
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runa-falls · 1 year ago
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Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)
In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((
Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)
Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏
GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily
pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader
cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...
thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE
masterlist
--
sometimes miguel comes home in silence.
he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.
you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.
sometimes he doesn't come back at all.
sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.
miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.
he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.
the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.
he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.
so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.
and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.
---
today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.
he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.
even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.
he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.
you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.
he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.
this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.
his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.
he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.
slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.
ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.
it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?
there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.
like how it was before. how it could've been.
your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.
so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?
by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.
you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.
you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.
"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."
"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."
you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.
"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.
his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.
you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --
"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.
of course, he's tired. he should be tired.
"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.
it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.
"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.
"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.
"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."
he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."
"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."
his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"
his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.
but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.
"yes, really."
"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"
"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.
before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.
"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"
"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.
his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.
"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.
you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.
"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."
"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."
you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.
"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"
"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"
an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...
"i-i could--"
"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.
you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.
you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.
you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.
"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"
his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.
"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."
your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.
you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.
you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.
"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.
"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.
"...i want you to."
"really?"
"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."
"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.
you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.
he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.
miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.
he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.
he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.
he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.
his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.
"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.
you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.
"baby, enough, please."
you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.
"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.
"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.
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semperama · 3 months ago
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trick or treat! happy halloween!! 🎃
I know this is late, but it's still Halloween here! I wrote you a little something. <3
------
It was...ambitious of them, thinking they could take a eight week old to a Halloween party, even if it is just the rest of the 118. Everyone does their best. Karen walks her around Bobby and Athena's backyard, mouth close to her ear, talking about the moon and the stars. Bobby patiently feeds her a bottle, stuck on the couch for twenty minutes while she sucks it down slowly. Chim bounces her against his shoulder until she spits up all down his back. Jee sings the sweetest version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star they've ever heard, and Buck would cry if he wasn't so incredibly exhausted.
"The witching hour," Athena says when she deposits the poor screaming baby back in Eddie's arms. "I promise it passes."
They end up leaving early, despite everyone's efforts. Ava falls asleep in her car seat, and when Buck's about to take the exit for home, Eddie puts a hand on his arm and says, quietly, "Let's drive around a little."
She was dressed as a ladybug to start the night, but three spit-ups and one poop later, she's on her second back-up outfit, a plain purple footie. Her face is sweet with sleep when Buck glances back at her in the mirror. They could drive all night, he thinks. Circle LA as many times as it takes. Anything to let her sleep, because this can't be fun for her either, her little body still trying to adjust to the outside world. Even exhausted and feeling like a failure, Buck loves her so damn much.
"You okay?" he asks Eddie after a few minutes of silence. When he glances over, Eddie's head is tipped back against the seat, his eyes shut, shadows fanned across his cheeks, the antennae from his bee costume askew. "Sorry. Sleep. You should sleep."
"I'm not asleep," Eddie says without opening his eyes. When Buck reaches for his hand, he threads their fingers together, and his mouth curves into a grin.
"I know it's been hard." Sometimes Buck feels—bad. Guilty. Like he talked Eddie into something he didn't really want, and now it's all Buck's fault. The middle-of-the-night feeds, the diaper blowouts, these periods of inconsolable crying—all his fault. "Regrets?" he asks, and he hopes it sounds like he's kidding, but he also hopes Eddie answers.
The silence stretches just long enough to make his anxiety that much worse. But then Eddie extricates his hand from Buck's and slides it up his arm, up to the side of his face, sweeping his thumb across Buck's cheekbone. "Never," he says, quiet and sincere. "I was just thinking about how lucky we are."
"Hmm?" Buck asks, leaning into the touch.
"Our friends. Our family. The way she's going to grow up with all these people who love her." Eddie slips his fingers up into Buck's hair, massages his skull in a way that makes him groan. "I have no regrets, Buck. I love our life."
Now Buck is going to cry. He's on a hair trigger these days anyway, thanks to the sleep deprivation. The tears are already threatening to spill over. "I love you," he says, almost a whisper.
"I love you too," Eddie says. He lets his hand drop to the back of Buck's neck and squeezes. "Just—don't stop driving."
Buck chuckles, even as he reaches up to swipe at his eyes. "Take a nap, babe," he says. He looks over again, Eddie's beautiful face painted orange by the streetlights. Eddie, tired and trusting. Buck adores him. "I got this. You sleep."
Eddie shuts his eyes again, a smile on his face. His hand stays curled around Buck's neck.
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