#softy the washcloth
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(Again this thingy made by @just-michael799 ↑)
So, decided to remake all of my dw fankids, and I started with Softy cuz I didn't liked her design the most, so take it(if anyone forgot Softy is Poppy x Goob fankid) :]
Some small fun facts below↓:
-Same height as Toodles
-Very curious and optimistic girl
-Likes copying her parents attitude
-Sweet tooth
-Talks a lot
-May or may not have a crush on her bestie ant lover
-Doing then thinking
Idk what else I should add :p
#art#digital art#dandys world#dandy's world#dandys world fankid#goob x poppy#poppy x goob#bubblehugs#bubblehugs fankid#softy the washcloth#dw softy the washcloth#dw softy#my art#my drawing#my fankid#don't repost#only reblog
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The Ship of Theseus (prelude)
Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (?), pining - I really do suck at tagging Summary: Never fuck your boss. Never fuck your best friend. And definitely never fuck Aaron Hotchner. But you did anyways. And now you’re left with the post-coital edition of Mr. Practical and all the messy aftermath that came with it. And a makeout too. Apparently the big scary man fell asleep right into your arms. Warnings: It's mentioned that they fucked. Whoops. IDK. In doubt - +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. No actual smut, but it's STEAMYYYYY... way too suggestive. Also, some cuss words here and there. Hotch being a softie. Word Count: 4.1k Dado's Corner: It’s a Chekhov’s gun of Ethics but without the actual gun… unless, of course, we’re talking about Aaron’s GUNSHOTS - oh, wait, there it is! The gun! Aaron’s thick, throbbing GUNSHOTS - oh shit, that’s so cool
masterlist
If there was ever an Olympic event for post-coital efficiency, your dearest friend – and funnily enough – your boss Aaron Hotchner would be taking home the gold.
Truly, what a sight to behold.
One moment, he was wrecking you within an inch of your sanity, and the next - barely a minute later - him and his ridiculously long legs were back in your bedroom, carrying a towel in one hand, a damp washcloth in the other, like the world’s most disciplined housekeeper.
So proper, so effortlessly composed, even now.
Because of course Aaron Hotchner - former prosecutor, Unit Chief, insufferable neat freak - would handle post-coital cleanup like it was just another task on meticulously organized, color-coded to-do list.
Sex: Completed (highly successful, performance rating: exemplary)
Orgasm(s): Confirmed (3, official review pending, though “best orgasm of my life” was strongly implied)
Post-coital hydration: Pending (but water bottle is within retrieval distance)
Aftercare protocol: Initiated (warm washcloth acquired, towel deployment imminent)
Debriefing & emotional processing: Ongoing (mission parameters unclear, subject remains evasive yet sarcastic)
Sheets: Ruined (replacement required, but can be postponed in favor of further activity)
Boss/subordinate ethical violation acknowledgment: Not yet addressed, deliberately ignored
Cuddling: Proposal under review (high-risk scenario)
Exit strategy: TBD (complications may include the inability to leave this bed for the foreseeable future)
And, obviously, you could not let him get away with that.
"Look at you, being all domesticated," you teased, propping yourself up slightly as he walked over.
"Someone has to take care of you," he shot back smoothly, dropping the towel onto the bed and kneeling beside you like this was normal.
Like you weren’t both still bare, still caught in the strange, floating space that existed after.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
The teasing - the constant, insufferable push and pull - was easy. That was your rhythm. That was safe. But this was something else entirely.
Something that left you both a little flustered, a little unsteady.
Even you - you, who could talk your way out of anything, who thrived on throwing him off - found yourself at a loss, your mouth opening, reaching for something to say, for anything that would keep this from feeling like more than what it was.
But then he touched you.
Pressed the warm cloth to your skin with so much care, with so much intent, and whatever sarcastic remark had been forming on your tongue just evaporated.
It wasn’t fair how tender he could be, how his hands - capable of so much control, so much discipline - could be this gentle, this careful. On you.
"You don’t have to do that," you murmured, breathless and barely audible.
"I know," he said simply, his gaze flicking up just long enough to see you before returning to his task. "But I want to."
So you let him. Let him take care of you.
Let yourself watch him, tracing the way his thick brows furrowed with concentration because he wanted to get it just right, the way his jaw tensed and relaxed as he worked, annoyingly meticulous, like this was just as important as everything that had come before it.
Gentle. Steady. Intimate. Intentional.
In a way that made your chest ache.
In a way that made you terrified of what it meant - now that the lust had passed, now that you were both just... here, bare, with nothing but each other.
And especially when he started pressing slow, lazy kisses along your knee, your already-marked thigh, your hip - like he needed to, like he couldn’t help himself, like he wanted to remind you that he had been there, that you were safe with him, even now.
Every second was more devastating than the last.
When he finished, he set the towel aside and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a beat, then another, then another, until he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.
"There," he murmured, lips still brushing against your skin. "All set."
You shook your head, forcing a smile, forcing yourself back to safer ground. "So thorough, Hotchner. Truly, I’m impressed."
His mouth quirked, but apparently, he wasn’t done being insufferably tender, kissing your cheek up next. Wasn’t he just adorable?!
"I aim to please," it was so utterly him it made your stomach flip, but not even more Aaron Hotchner than when, suddenly, he was back to bossing you around in your own home.
"Now, we change the bedsheets, take a shower, and then I’ll see you back here so we-"
And then he stopped. Oh no. Cat got your tongue, bossman?
"We what?" you prompted, raising an eyebrow, watching with unholy satisfaction as the tips of his ears turned red.
He cleared his throat, hesitated in a way that was so unlike him it almost hurt to witness."We… could cuddle. If you want. Or talk. Or whatever you want to do, really. No pressure. I can leave, all you have to do is tell me."
The longer he spoke, the redder he got, his words tripping over themselves, and honestly, it was taking everything in you not to burst out laughing right in front of him.
"You’re adorable, you know that?" you said instead, leaning in to press a kiss to his flushed cheek, hopefully to calm him down – or at least that was your excuse. "Big, scary Aaron Hotchner, suggesting cuddling in the same breath as ‘no pressure.’"
You mocked him, because humbling him was your second nature, and judging by the glare he was giving you, you were winning yet another round. Still, you didn’t want him to just leave. That much was obvious.
He exhaled slowly, gaze steady. "So… what do you want?"
You pretended to think about it, dragging it out just to see that little furrow in his brow deepen.
"Well, I suppose I could settle for cuddling… " you mused, letting your fingers ghost along his shoulders, "but only if you’re the little spoon."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "Little spoon?"
Oh, wasn’t it just glorious. 2-0
"My house, my rules," you said smugly. "If you don’t like it, next time we’ll do it at your place, and you can do whatever you want."
And the second the words left your mouth, you definitely wanted to die.
Next time.
As if this was a thing. As if you had even talked about what it was, what this meant. As if you had acknowledged that what you’d just done was completely, wildly, against every rule in the protocol - and common sense as well.
Especially because he was your boss.
"I’m joking, of course," you backtracked quickly, though you felt the heat creeping up your neck.
"Of course," he echoed, but there was something in his expression, something behind his eyes that said he wasn’t entirely convinced, probably because he caught you with your hands in the cookie jar. "This was…"
Great. The talk.
"An accident," you supplied.
"Against protocol," he continued.
No shit, Sherlock.
"Because you’re my boss-"
"We work together," he chimed in, but his voice was softer now, trailing.
"Could cost us our careers," you pointed out, waiting for him to acknowledge it, to confirm the obvious.
"When there’s a pattern of offending behavior," he murmured, almost to himself, slipping into technicalities - because of course he would.
But then - he smirked. Just the slightest tilt of his lips, still – he smirked.
Oh.
And that could only mean one thing.
"A pattern," you echoed, watching him carefully.
And just like that, because he was only a man - logical, brilliant, but still just a man - he reached the same inevitable conclusion you had, just a breath later.
His fingers found yours, intertwining, and it was stupid how calming that simple gesture was.
Or maybe it wasn’t the touch itself but the truth laced between your hands.
Or maybe both.
Or maybe it was just this - how the whole conversation had shifted without either of you stopping it.
It didn’t mean you wouldn’t push and pull anymore. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t still play cat and mouse. You would. Just differently now. With your lips on the other’s skin instead of just grazing the air.
"We’re very good at patterns," he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, pressing a kiss there.
"At recognizing patterns," you corrected, your breath hitching as you tilted your head, catching the corner of his mouth with yours.
"What is a pattern, after all?" His lips moved along your cheek, his hands sliding up your spine, settling against your back.
"A repetition," you answered, barely above a whisper, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear.
"A repetition," he echoed, voice rasping, pressing one to the curve of your jaw.
"Exactly that." You murmured as your fingers traced patterns over his bare shoulders.
"Depending on a series of factors," he continued, shifting slightly, pressing another kiss to your collarbone.
"Such as…?" You exhaled against the bruise you left on his throat.
"Subjects involved," he murmured.
"Location," you supplied.
"A very important factor," he agreed, flashing his intoxicating dimples, nudging his nose against yours.
"Fundamental in analysis," you teased, smiling against his lips.
"If the location changes," he murmured, pausing just long enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, "the recognition of the pattern could be…"
You barely heard him, too focused on the way his breath ghosted over your skin, but still - hearing him talk like that, with his voice all low and thoughtful and dangerous, made you shiver.
"Devious," you countered, barely referring to legal theory anymore.
No, he was devious - the way his mouth was just barely touching yours, his hands skimming your sides like he wanted to devour you but was forcing himself to behave.
You've had enough. You tilted your head, catching his lips in a kiss, cutting off whatever legal analysis he thought he was about to give.
"Faulted," he corrected, the words slipping straight into your mouth, delivered onto your tongue by his, deepening the kiss without hesitation.
"You can never be sure…" your voice faltered, swallowed by the way he pulled you flush against his bare body, his fingers digging into the skin of your lower back.
"…if it’s the same pattern," he finished for you, just before his teeth caught your bottom lip, just hard enough to make you gasp.
"Or a copycat," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, feeling completely dizzy, straight-up autopilot - you barely even knew what you’d just said.
Judging by the way he chuckled, though, it was probably nonsense.
No, definitely ridiculous, because now he was repeating it back to you, still grinning, "…A copycat? You’re crazy."
Still, he never looked away.
Right… you definitely weren’t exactly talking about unsubs now.
"So one single act can still be admissible?" you asked, fingers idly tracing over his cheek.
"It was just a little lapse in judgment," he chuckled, but you could already feel the gears turning in that brilliant lawyer’s mind, already bending the rules in real time, looking for the inevitable loophole in the very system you both swore by.
"...At your place," he added, like that alone made all the difference. "And that’s just one location."
You smirked. "Not your apartment."
"To be precise," he murmured, his mouth brushing over yours, "it was just your bed… which means that technically-"
"Technically", you could still fuck each other everywhere else.
"Oh, I love the way your brain works…" you hummed, punctuating your words with another kiss, this time against the sharp line of his jaw. "So… not the shower."
And just like that, it became a game.
A list. A reckless, bucket list.
"The desk," he murmured, and fuck, you had to squeeze your thighs together at that one, trying so hard not to let your brain go there - not to picture which specific desk you wanted him to bend you over, not to imagine the feel of his hands gripping your hips, his voice low in your ear, telling you to keep quiet.
Definitely not the one in his office. No. That would be unethical.
"The kitchen counter," you whispered, voice already a little breathless.
"The floor," he added, lips dragging just beneath your ear, voice husky, teasing, unfair.
"Of all the rooms in this apartment…" you trailed off, tilting his chin just slightly so you could press a slow kiss right between his brows, smoothing away the tiny crease there.
"The couch," he murmured. Low blow.
You bit your lip, because that wasn’t fair, because now all you could think about was straddling his lap, sinking down onto him, rolling your hips while his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, holding you in place, watching you come undone.
You had never wanted to ride a man so badly in your life.
"Against the front door," you suggested next
“The armchair” he added, and okay - so he really wanted you to ride him. Noted.
"The stairs," you countered, throwing something ridiculous just to regain some control.
"We don’t have stairs," he said, lips curving against your skin.
"Fine," you huffed. "The car."
"Backseat or front?" he asked, way too inclined to indulge in your proposal.
"Front if I’m driving," you mused.
He groaned at that, and you took the opportunity to press your advantage, brushing your lips over his throat, smirking against his skin as you felt something become quite… hard.
"My bed," he rasped suddenly, and damn, you knew you were done for the second those words left his mouth.
Because that - that was dangerous. The thought of being wrapped in sheets that smelled like him, tangled up in his warmth, surrounded by the scent of sex and sweat and that insufferable, frustratingly attractive man…
You would not survive it.
"The elevator," you rasped before you could stop yourself.
And that was when he froze - for half a second, you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you. And then-
"Jesus Christ."
"I don’t think that one’s possible, Hotchner.."
Still, his mouth parted, his pupils blown so wide there was barely any brown left, and for a second, you genuinely thought he was about to die right then and there. Would’ve been tragic, really - death by horny legal loopholes debate.
Explain that to Erin Strauss...
But then he groaned, deep and wrecked, dropping his face into your neck like he needed a moment to recover. Maybe he wasn’t going to die just yet.
"The elevator?" he muttered against your skin, muffled, bewildered, like he couldn’t quite believe he was having this conversation.
"The elevator," you confirmed, absolutely shameless.
"Jesus."
"I’d prefer it be just the two of us, if that’s not a problem for you," you deadpanned.
He let out a deep, suffering sigh against your neck, like he was physically restraining himself from debating elevator logistics.
"I don’t even know what to do with you," he muttered.
"I have some ideas."
He exhaled, then lifted his head just enough to look you dead in the eye. "We are never having sex in an elevator."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"That sounds like a lawsuit," he corrected, still so visibly distressed that you could not stop laughing.
"Thought you used to be a good lawyer, Hotchner," you teased, your fingers dragging lazily along his spine. "Wouldn't you know your way around a legal loophole?"
"Oh, I do," he sighed. "I also know how to avoid federal charges."
"You’re truly a prude."
"You're truly reckless," he shot back, eyes closed, mentally revisiting every questionable decision he’d made in the last hour… or maybe the last two…
Honestly, who was even keeping track at this point?
You smirked, shifting until you were draped half over his chest, resting your chin on your folded arms as you gazed at him. "Oh, c'mon, Hotchner, live a little."
His eyes opened just enough to give you a look.
You huffed. "Okay, okay, fine. No elevators. If you really wanna be lame about it."
"Thank you," he said flatly.
A pause. Then, you couldn’t help it. "The jet."
His entire body went rigid. You swore you felt his soul attempt to leave his body.
"The jet?" he repeated, voice hoarse.
You nodded sagely. "The jet."
"Oh my God."
You grinned, slow and so wicked. "Can you imagine it?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Small, enclosed space-" you started.
"Oh my God."
"-turbulence, you pinning me against the-"
"No." He cut you off.
You cackled, absolutely delighted by his suffering.
"The team is on that jet," he tried to argue.
"Not always," you countered, “sometimes Strauss is there too.”
His entire face drained of color. For a solid three seconds, he just stared at you, mouth slightly parted, horror creeping into his very being.
"Get out."
You wheezed, collapsing against his chest, “Of my bedroom?! You can’t really dismiss me here unfortunately for you.”
"I don’t ever want to hear the words sex and Strauss in the same sentence again," he grumbled.
"I believe you just said them yourself, Hotchner"
A slow blink. A deep sigh. He was so close to reconsidering every single choice that had led him to this moment.
And yet-
Instead of answering, he just exhaled, letting his weight sink into you, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder like admitting defeat.
Because you both knew exactly what this was.
A game.
A flimsy, shameless, beautiful excuse to keep doing this - to keep falling into each other, to keep breaking rules and bending logic, to keep pretending it wasn’t something more.
But neither of you said that.
Neither of you needed to.
Instead, you simply thrived in the ineffable, in the space where words didn’t need to be spoken. In the way his body melted on top of yours, drawn to you despite himself, despite the attitude, despite everything.
Because with you, he could just be.
Simply, truly, exist in his truth.
Not Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Not the unshakable leader, not the man who carried the weight of everyone else’s burdens on his back, never allowing himself to falter.
Just Aaron.
The six-foot-two little spoon who swore he wouldn’t be, yet here he was, folded into you like he’d never belonged anywhere else, all because you’d jokingly set it as a condition for him to breathe this close to you.
At least, that’s what you told him.
But in reality a part of you wanted this.
A part of you wanted the man who always stayed close – from the victims, to the UnSubs, and everyone he cared about, always making sure he was the one who bore the weight so no one else had to - to have someone stay close for him.
To let him know what it felt like to be held.
Because the thought had been lingering at the edges of your mind for far too long now - unwelcome, unavoidable -
If he was there to protect everyone, who was there to protect him?
Not that you were volunteering. Not like that.
Actually if you said it out loud, he’d probably just laugh at you, and use that damned dry humor of his and tell you “How can you protect me if you can barely shoot?”
And you’d laugh, you’d tease him right back - and nothing would change.
But you knew the truth - you’d been his anchor for the past decade.
And so your fingers traced idle patterns along his back, thoughtlessly, feeling the tension unwind from his muscles, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against yours.
"You’re warm," he murmured after a while, rasping at the edges, making your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to think too hard about.
"You’re a bit heavy," you murmured, lips quirking slightly.
"Mhm." But he didn’t move, didn’t even try.
You smiled to yourself, dragging your fingers gently through his short hair, feeling the strands slip between them, coarse and slightly mussed.
"You don’t have to do that," he said softly against your skin.
"I know," you whispered, your hand still smoothing over his back, still holding him close, like you weren’t fooling either of you. "But I want to."
A pause. A deep breath.
Then-
"Thank you," he sighed, pressing a barely-there kiss to your shoulder, too tired to move, too tired to do anything but exist against you.
Just holding each other.
Just existing in the same space, in the same breath, with no expectations, no pressure, no future to consider beyond the feel of his heartbeat against yours.
"You know, there’s a philosophical dilemma called the Ship of Theseus-" you started, your voice a gentle hum in the quiet, earning a small huff from him in response.
"It questions whether an object remains fundamentally the same if all of its components are replaced over time. If every original part is gone, is it still the same thing? Because technically, it’s not… if identity is tied to its physical components and not something more abstract, like function or form."
You felt the slow, subtle curve of his lips against your shoulder.
"Which brings us to," you added, lips curving now too, " is this even the same bed if we just change the sheets? On some criteria, following this logic… it isn’t."
A beat.
No reply.
Just the steady, even sound of his breathing.
And - oh.
Oh.
He’d fallen asleep on you. Mid-philosophy. Unbelievable.
Great. So apparently, you were the boring one now. Perfect.
But before you could dwell too much on your bruised ego, he stirred, mumbling something barely coherent against your skin.
"Mmmh… we change the sheets… shower… come back here and-"
“’And’ what?” You sighed, your fingers still lazily running through his hair. “Aaron, you sound like a low-battery version of yourself.” You huffed a laugh, shaking your head.
"M'practical," he slurred, as if that was a valid argument.
"You’re half-asleep."
"Still practical," he muttered.
"If you move, I’ll take care of the sheets. You go shower," you offered, voice quiet, fond.
He barely responded, just a low, unintelligible grumble against your collarbone before-
"Mm-mm… we don’t… shower together?”
You sighed. Of course that was where his sleepy brain went.
"Will we just shower?" you asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t have the energy for anything else.
A beat of silence.
Then, his voice barely above a whisper-
"What if we don’t?" he muttered, already half-asleep. "S’not against the rules…"
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Aaron-"
"The ship… applies to your shower too…" his words trailed off lazily, completely nonsense, but you could hear the hint of a smile in them. "If you replace the soap… ‘s a different shower…"
Well, at least even in his on-the-brink-of-unconsciousness state, he was committed to following through with your logic...
"I’m saying this for your own good, Hotchner, because you really don’t have the energy for another round."
"I do," he grumbled, shifting, his arms tightening around you like you had to believe him.
"Sure," you murmured, kissing his forehead. "I’ll believe that when you make it to the bathroom without falling asleep in the doorway."
He made a low, unintelligible noise, like he wanted to argue, but his body had already betrayed him, too heavy, too settled against you.
"Go," you whispered, nudging him gently.
A deep sigh. Then-
"Fine."
He peeled himself off you with the effort of a man being dragged out of bed by force, his body moving like it was actively resisting him.
You bit back another laugh as he stumbled toward the bathroom, catching himself on the doorframe for just a second before disappearing inside.
And, of course-
When you finished your own shower and stepped quietly back into the bedroom, he was already collapsed against the bed, completely dead to the world.
Or so you thought.
Because the moment you eased yourself into bed, trying your best to be quiet, he shifted -
One sleepy, instinctive movement.
And suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you without thinking, his body curling into yours, his head tucking against the crook of your neck, snuggling.
Clingy.
"Annoying little spoon," you muttered.
You felt a muffled hum against your skin. "Next time… we switch."
You sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, letting your fingers drift through his hair one more time. "Go to sleep, Aaron."
He sighed against your skin, warm and content, the weight of him only settling deeper into you.
"Mmm. ‘M already sleepin’…" he murmured, words barely holding together.
A beat.
Then, even softer-
"You should too… two hours ‘til work."
Oh, he just could not help himself - spent a full minute reminding you, over and over, that you just fucked your boss.
Damn it, Aaron. At least he could try to pretend...
"Actually, it’s one and a half." you bit back.
A pause.
Then-
"Shit."
Shit indeed.
Phi's Corner: BOTTOM HOTCH RIGHTS!!!!!!!! Also don't worry filthy goyals, you will be fed with some actual smut tomorrow. And probably some context too... maybe?!?! hope you enjoyed this anyways...
taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24
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— 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 + 𝖉𝖆𝖟𝖆𝖎 ₊˚⊹
pairing: osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x fem!reader
content warning(s): non-descriptive illness, kisses, cuddling, osamu dazai is a softie, tooth-rotting fluff, sickness care, ailment treatments, pet names (love, belladonna, baby)
would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.
“Osamu?”
You had awoken in quite a predicament. Swaddled in a clump of blankets with a cool washcloth pressed to your forehead, bubbling cups of tea and soup spinning steam into the air.
However, you partially clued in on the situation when you felt your head pounding. Your throat felt raw as a cough encroached on your breath, your skin was inflamed as sweat gathered by your temples, and your muscles ached as you attempted to stretch your arms. You were sick.
The smirking man before you was how you clued into the next part of your predicament.
“Yes, my love?”
You had no idea how long you had been swaddled up on the living room couch, but knowing Dazai, he had clued in on your sickness hours before you did. A perked brow was your sole response to him.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re sick.” He snuggled into your side, a lopsided grin on his face as he pressed kiss after kiss onto your skin with a coo. “My poor sweet baby.”
“You seem a bit too enthused about this entire thing.”
“Me?” he gasped. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing!”
He quieted his voice as you winced. “But who wouldn’t be?” he teased, sweet nothing whispered into your ears as he ran his nimble fingers through your hair, massaging them into your temples. “I have an excuse to miss work and spoil my sweet belladonna. Sign me up.”
“Did you somehow get me sick?” you deadpanned.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he whined, digging further into the blankets until he was snuggled up with you, bracing your body against his chest as he lazily burrowed into your neck.
“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his hands. “Watch out. You could get sick.”
“You’re saying that,” he smirked. “But you’re doing nothing to get away.”
“I’m sick, and you’re warm. Sue me.” You leaned into him as you toyed with his bandaged fingers.
He trailed kisses across your neck, his cool skin drawing a soft groan from your lips. “And that means I’ll have extra time to spend with my baby because she’s so sweet, and I know she’ll take of me.”
“Mm, I’ll consider it,” you mumbled, eyes heavy.
He gasped, much to your tired amusement, as tiny giggles escaped your lips between a cough. His arms were hot as they squeezed around your waist, and before long, you found yourself nuzzled into his chest on the cusp of sleep. His fingers traced your features as your eyes fluttered closed, a kiss pressed against your forehead.
“Sweet dreams, my love.”
TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @dazaisms
© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.
#☆.musings#f!reader#series: [muse's advent event 2023 ❆]#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#osamu dazai#dazai bsd
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Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages
Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤
I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho
Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺
Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting
Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here
Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words.
“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.”
As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out.
“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face.
“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen.
“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.”
You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled.
Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.”
“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”
___________
It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.
“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly.
There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.
“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin.
“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly.
Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech moved around your stomach.
“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?”
You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y
You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for.
And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.”
Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.”
______
Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual.
A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach.
“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice.
Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach.
“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed.
“Darling, what—”
“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.”
And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started.
Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?”
“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile.
“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both.
“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s.
“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick.
“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side.
“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” Riley x reader
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Drunk Confessions (Flufftober 2023 Day 14)
Pairing: keishin ukai x female reader
WC: 678
Warnings: nudity (nothing explicit they shower together), mdni
Summary: you take care of your drunk boyfriend after a night out
Note: ukai is a big ole softie in this so ooc i guess? idc i love him
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late at night on a Saturday and you were finishing grading your students’ quizzes when your front doorbell rang, startling you. You carefully padded to the door, not expecting company, and you checked the peephole before furrowing your brows. You opened the door to reveal your boyfriend Keishin Ukai standing there with a lazy grin on his face.
“Did you forget your key again?” You asked, letting him into your shared home. He had gone out with his friends for a drink, and judging by his somewhat clumsy gait, he might’ve drank a bit too much.
When you got the door closed, he wrapped your arms around your middle, bringing you to his chest.
“I wanna cuddle,” He declared.
“Let me finish grading these last few papers and I’m all yours,” You replied, causing him to huff.
“But I missed you,” Ukai pouted at you.
You giggled, “You saw me a few hours ago.”
“I always miss you,” He buried his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply, “You smell so good.”
“Well you need a shower,” You pointed out, wrinkling your nose at the smell of sweat and alcohol.
“Yeah, yeah,” He let go of you and took hold of your hand, “Join me?”
You knew you probably weren’t going to get that grading done tonight, not when he was looking at you with the most prettiest pout. He would probably keep pestering until you said yes.
“Well I guess someone has to make sure you don’t drown,” You agreed with a teasing smile.
And so you led your boyfriend to the bathroom where you quickly got the shower started, finding a comfortable temperature that you both liked. He undressed himself and got in, and you followed suit. You had already taken a shower so you focused solely on getting Ukai cleaned up. You helped him wash his hair, massaging his scalp the way he liked and he left featherlight caresses to your skin as you worked.
It wasn’t sexual, and you didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment as he gazed at you so lovingly, like you had hung the stars themselves.
“Did you have fun?” You asked as you took a soapy washcloth and ran it over his chest.
He sighed at the feeling and nodded his head.
“I wish you could’ve come,” He said, and you cracked a smile. He was always so open and soft with you when he got like this. It was endearing.
“I’ll go next time,” You promised.
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” You held out your pinky to him, and he quickly circled his own around it. He then brought your hand closer to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
After he rinsed and dried off, you two made your way to the bedroom. He slipped under the cover and patted the space next to him as an invitation to join, which you did so happily.
A comfortable silence fell over you both and for a moment you thought he had already fallen asleep. It wouldn’t shock you, he’s been working hard balancing his time between you, work, and both volleyball team practices. It must be exhausting.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” Ukai mumbled suddenly as he snuggled into you, causing you to blink in surprise.
“You want to marry me?” You repeated curiously. You had been dating for a bit, but this is the first time he’s even introduced the idea of marriage to you.
“Mhm,” He nodded and pressed a sleepy kiss to your neck, “My pretty little wife.”
Your heart fluttered at the confession. Even though he was drunk, you couldn’t help but feel like he meant it.
“And when we have kids, you’re gonna be the best mom.”
Butterflies erupted in your stomach at that. He wanted a family with you too? Before you could let your imagination run wild, your gaze softened as quiet snores finally fell from his lips, signaling he was asleep.
“I can’t wait to marry you too, Keishin,” You whispered back.
And you meant it.
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#ukai keishin#keishin ukai x reader#keishin ukai#ukai keishin x reader#x reader#fluff#fanfiction#flufftober#kace writes#haikyuu#haikyu
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HI I absolutely love your fics and drabbles! I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a Sam drabble where he comes back from a hunt all dirty and tired and the reader takes care of him, like washes his hair for him and gets him a beer etc. Feel free to run with that as you like. Love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️
A/n: Hiii lovely!! This is so cute, I’m such a softy for whumpee Sammy.
Cw: She/her reader, being naked in a non-sexual context, nothin too crazy :)
-
“Stop being a big baby, and get in the tub.”
She ushers him into the bathroom in a gentle manner, closing the door behind them and moving to take off his jacket before he can even make the effort.
Once his clothes are off, Sam slowly sits in the warm water, wetting his hair with a quiet groan. She kneels beside the tub to turn off the water, before grabbing a washcloth and soaking it.
He looks over at her with soft, tired eyes. “You don’t have to do this.”
She moves the cloth to his face, gently cleaning the dirt and grime from his forehead. She pushes his bangs from his face, whispering a quick ‘shut up’ as she drags the soft fabric across his cheeks.
“Wanna pass me some soap?” She asks him as she brings the cloth around the back of his neck. Sam turns for the soap, so his back faces her. She winces at the sight of his skin being so littered with bruises and scratch marks, being extra careful when it comes time for her to wash the dirt from his neck and back.
-
Sam sinks into the crappy mattress, rolling his neck to the side to crack it with a strained sigh.
His eyes open at the sound of a cap being removed from a glass bottle. She shuffles towards him, handing him a cold beer to pair with her warm smile.
His hand passes the bottle and instead reaches for her wrist, pulling her closer to sit on the bed behind him. When he finally takes the bottle from her, she slowly leans against him, carefully wrapping her arms over his shoulders. Sam takes a sip from the bottle, as his head rests against hers she feels him swallow the liquor against her cheek.
“You wanna lie down?” She whispers to his ear, “You feel so tense, Sam…”
He shakes his head ‘no’, looking down at the bottle in his hands with pursed lips.
“It’s nothing… tonight was just…” He pauses to relive the past 12 hours, or so.
“Just a lot, y’know?” He forces out a small chuckle in hopes to ease any concern. His smile awkwardly fades as he fails to faze her by any means.
As he looks away, she catches his chin with her hand, turning his face back to hers. His eyes look so innocent in contrast to hers, always so lost, and maybe even longing. They captivate her everytime, she can never just look away.
“I love you, and I’m always here to bring you back to something that feels like home. If you’re hurt, or, or scared, or anything, I will always be here.”
Sam’s eyes somehow soften even more, and she finds herself just staring straight into them. His hand creeps up against hers, taking it between his fingers and softly stroking each knuckle. He nods quickly, his way of making sure she knows how much he understands.
A silent “… I know…” is all he can manage to give her tonight. Right back at him, she nods, as her way of letting him know that she also understands.
-
He finally gets the well needed rest he’d been craving all day. Rest that consists of her gentle arms draped over and around his chest, one leg swung over his. With an arm resting under her neck, Sam contently drifts to sleep with his hand softly tangled in her hair.
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AFTERCARE WITH LOTTIE • 💭
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summery: aftercare with lottie hc's 🌀
warnings: fluff !
notes: this is so short but oh well
is the sweetest EVERRRR . even if 2 minutes ago she was acting big and though the second you're done she goes right back to being a softie !
cuddles GALOREEEE!!! she lovesloves showing affection after sex!! she loves to pull you close and hug you and kiss your head!!! she just loves to feel you close to her( ꈍᴗꈍ)
puts on a show right after !! you'll turn around for one second and suddenly adventure time is on😭
will clean you up 100% !! she's so gentle with a washcloth:( she'll get it damp and even massage your shoulders if you're feeling tense😣
if you're naked she'll make sure to get a pair of fresh PJs to put on after !! she loves taking care of you:((
will fix up the bed if you guys messed the sheets or blanket up, she likes having a cosy environment after sex !!
she falls asleep sosososo fast!!! she's a sleepyhead ong ! she loves to fall asleep while cuddling you !! ofc with something on in the background 🙏
#lottie matthews x reader#lottie matthews x fem reader#lottie matthews x fem!reader#lottie matthews x you#lottie matthews#yellow jackets x reader#yellow jackets fanfiction#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets
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hiii i love your billie posts!!! i was wondering if you could write a soft smut post w billie being a soft dom w her plus sized pillow princess gf?? id love to see more fics like thissss!!! thank uuu<33
Softie
Billie eilish x plus-sized!fem!reader
Warning: soft smut :)
“B-Billie please…I need y-you..”. You whimper out as Billie leaves delicate kisses all over your body. “Shhhh…let me worship this beautiful body of yours angel…relax…I’m not going anywhere…” she said against your stomach as she left little kisses all over it. Billie knew how insecure you could be about your body so at every chance she gets she makes sure that you feel beautiful.
Everyday, all the time because to her you are the most beautiful thing that has ever walked this earth. “So beautiful…” she whispered against your skin as her kisses trailed up to your neck where she left a few love bites behind. She gave you a soft kiss to her lips and said that she will be right back. Billie got off the bed and went into the closet before coming back out a minute later with your favorite strap on was around her waist.
Your eyes widen and Billie smirked at your reaction. Billie went back over to the bed and climbed on top of you, the strap hitting your stomach softly. “You think you ready baby?” Billie said as she grabbed the fake cock and rubbed the tip between your folds, making you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. You nodded your head fast at her question and she smiled warmly at you.
She pushed the tip in your throbbing hole a few times before pushing in all the way, bottoming out. Her thrusts were fast but she was trying to be gentle as possible. “You’re being such a good girl baby…”. Billie said as she kept thrusting into you. Your face turned red at her praise and Billie knew how much you loved it. “Awww my pretty girl getting all flustered hm? So cute…” she said as she leaned down to give you a loving kiss.
It wasn’t long until you could feel yourself coming and Billie noticed too. “You about to cum babygirl? Go ahead. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.” Billie whispered in your ear and gave it a sweet kiss. You let out a loud moan as you came hard all over her cock and Billie smiled as she watched. She gently pulled out making you whine and she gently shushed you. “Shhh shhh…I got you baby it’s okay. You did so good for me angel…you looked so pretty when you cum…” she praised you and you gave her a tired smile.
She got up and went to get a damp washcloth and a bottle of water. Billie came back and cleaned you up, making you smile. You loved her aftercare and you loved how soft and gentle she was being towards you. She handed you your water as she started to clean herself and laid beside you, drinking her some water too. She pulled you into her arms and gave you a loving kiss on your forehead. “You will always be so beautiful to me my dear y/n. I love you so so much.” Billie said as you fell asleep, safe and loved in her arms.
A/n: I hope this was what you wanted and I hope you enjoyed it anon. Thank you for your support! I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)
#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie o’connell#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish
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i keep thinking about the scene in safe in your skin where he kisses her on the cheek and then on her forehead... would you mind writing aftercare with carmy? im so enamoured with how you write sweet boy carmen :')) im the 🫂 anon btw
i love that scene! 🥺 a softie in denial fr
here’s a much needed fluffy headcannon for you sweet friend <3
i imagine carmen just completely collapsing after sex, burying his head into the reader’s neck, hips slightly stuttering as he tries to remain as close as possible.
his hands smooth up her sides, grasping at the dewy skin, finding the strength to sit up and deeply kiss the tired girl, the intensity and heat of his lips conveying all he feels too tired to say. she moans, tapping his chest as a signal to pull out. he slips out of her, trying to keep from making a mess all over the duvet.
“stay right there,” he softly commands, rubbing her thigh, standing and walking to the bathroom. she watches as he comes back with a damp washcloth, coming in between her legs and beginning to gently clean her off. it’s warm, and she shivers at the sensation, her nerves still tingling from moments previous.
his eyes glance up to her, “this okay, baby?” thumb soothingly rubbing circles into her leg. she nods, closing her eyes, relaxing at his touch. carmy finishes cleaning her, then pulls away, standing to toss the washcloth in the laundry bin. he turns to retrieve them water from the kitchen when he feels a hand softly grab his arm.
“where are you going?” she asks in the sweetest voice he thinks he’s ever heard, drowsy eyes scanning his face.
“you want some water?” he softly returns, bringing a hand to card through her hair, smoothing it down to the side of her neck. she leans into the gentle touches with a mew.
“mhm,” she nods and brings his fingers to her mouth, kissing over the tattooed knuckles. his heart pounds at the simple action. “can i get some clothes?” she asks.
“you already know you can,” tone gentle, finger brushing over her lips. he leans forward to capture them in a quick kiss, then stands again. “i’ll be right back,” he leaves her with and walks to the kitchen.
upon returning, he finds her at his dresser drawer, pulling out an oversized black shirt, one that had a band on it and a small hole in the side. he watches as she slips it over her head, the hem falling around her thighs and concealing her nudity.
“drink,” he asserts, handing the glass to her, hand coming to rest on her hip. she finishes the water and sets it down on the nightstand, unexpectedly jumping up into carmy’s arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. he lets out a surprised laugh, hands coming to her upper thighs to support her. she hugs him close to her, peppering kisses along his cheek.
“can we watch a movie tonight?” her tone sweet, hopeful. his hand moves up, squeezing the upper curve of her thigh. smiling at her small gasp, scanning her face, an overwhelming surge of emotion overwhelming him. he had never been more confident of a person before meeting her.
“i love you,” carmy whispers, watching her expression go softer. the girl leans in and presses her lips against his, arms circling around his neck.
“i love you,” she returns in between kisses, “so much, carm,” grip tightening around him, giving him a few deep kisses before their lips separate.
“let’s go watch a movie,” he says, beginning to walk to living room, holding her closer.
he feels a warmth in his chest, his face, almost as if there were a light shining through his skin.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#the bear imagine#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x reader
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━━ ⟡ 𝓛𝐄𝐓 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓛𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝓘𝐍, kenpachi z.
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✿.*・。 ꒰ 𝐦. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, angst and fluff, soft n' sweet kenny who absolutely adorns and cares for his husband, yachi calls r. papa and kenny daddy, r. is extremely sick, pet name usage — [ sweets & darling ], sad kenny and yachi (•́︿•̀), a little short + happy ending. ꒱
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Kenpachi Zaraki has never been in love before.
Just the thought of love made him sick, but that was before he met you. The light of his life, his husband. You were loved by everyone, especially Yachiru, who always dragged you along with her to participate in her daily activities.
You used to be seated under the fourth division; you loved helping people. Kenpachi knew that you had a big heart. Every time you saved a life, your heart would swell up. You always told him stories of how when the person whose life you saved said ‘thank you’ or hugged you, it made you feel good inside. But all of that was over. The day you were diagnosed with an unknown illness was the day both of your hearts were ripped out of your chest and stepped on. He remembered vividly how he held you that night and said to himself that there was a cure to your illness and it wasn’t serious.
But he was wrong.
The day you fainted on the way to your captain’s office was the day she recommended that you resign from your seat, claiming that your sickness was heavily more serious than you realized. Kenpachi raced to your side after hearing the news. Holding your hand as Unohana explained the potential negative outcomes of your illness. Which included fainting, losing your appetite, breaking out in a cold sweat, and other symptoms. When Unohana told everything to him, he felt pieces of himself shatter and break. But he remained hopeful that you will be fine. Unohana promised him that she'd come by every day to see if you were getting better or worse.
When she wasn't around, he was usually the one who looked after you. He took the role of cleaning you and changing your clothes. He would frequently carry you outside on his back, allowing you to get some fresh air because he didn't want you to be confined inside all day. He didn't care how many times you apologized and sobbed when you puked on the floor or ruined his clothes with your blood/mucus. He could never be angry with you for something you couldn't control. He wasn't there to lecture you or make you feel bad. He was there because he cared about you and wanted to help you in any way he could. After all, he was your husband; he was a tough person on the outside with others, but a softie on the inside when it came to you and Yachiru.
Kenpachi watched as you slept blissfully in his lap, your cheek against his hard yet comfortable chest. He wiped your cheeks and forehead with the cold washcloth, cleaning away the sweat. You’ve been sleeping all day and the man was currently ignoring his captain duties to visit and care for you. He didn’t care about the consequences; all he wanted was to be by your side. His thumbs stroked against your visible cheekbone; due to your condition, you had difficulty consuming anything without vomiting. Which meant you were only on a liquid diet. He drew the blanket over your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. When he heard the door open, he slowly shifted his attention to it, which was Yachiru with flowers.
After hearing of your illness, the poor girl's joyful and lively personality faded a little.
When the little girl went in, she didn't say anything but sit next to him, holding your favorite flowers. She set the plants down and moved closer, her hand going beneath the blanket to intertwine with yours. Kenpachi's eyes saddened at the sight in front of him; he had never seen Yachiru so low before. That must've meant you had made an effective impact on her life. “Did he wake up yet?” She asked, worried by your icy fingers and shallow breathing. Kenpachi shook his head, the only time you awoke was to use the restroom. Aside from that, you spent the entire day sleeping in his lap.
“Please, wake up papa. Me and Daddy miss you.” The pink-haired girl begged while she squeezed your hand. She missed playing with you and being carried on your shoulders by you. But you were now so weak that you couldn't even raise a cup. “Don’t you wanna play some more?”
Kenpachi frowned and kissed your brow, noting that this was the longest you'd ever slept. His eyes widened as he saw you stirring in your sleep, struggling to open your eyes. Kenpachi grabbed the washcloth and wiped away the bulit up crust in your eyes, thinking that was the reason you couldn’t open them. Yachiru tilted her head when she felt your cold hand squeezing hers, were you awake? “Papa?” She moved closer to get a better look at your face, her eyes widening when you hummed softly.
“Papa!” She perked up when you opened your soft e/c eyes that were still full of light. Kenpachi’s gaze relaxed when your lips formed a small smile, still looking as beautiful as ever. “Please don’t be so worried about me Yachi, I’m gonna be okay. I promise.” Your raspy voice surprised both shinigami, Kenpachi frowned, remembering that you hadn’t drink anything since last night. Considering that you would cough it up each time.
“I'll go get some water for you, Papa!” Yachiru announced, jumping to her feet to receive a cup. Once she left you returned your gaze to your husband. Who stared back at you as if were the most beautiful thing in the world. The first thing you noticed about him was his tired appearance. His hair was more messy than usual and he no longer wore his eye patch, which revealed the dark markings under his eyes. “Kenny, have you been getting any sleep?” You murmured his name as you caressed the dark bags under his eyes. Kenpachi didn't respond since he knew you'd scold him if he replied no. Instead, he smiled and kissed your forehead, leading you to laugh softly.
“I’m so glad that you’re awake. You had me so worried.” His lips brushed against yours before kiss them, the coldness caused him to slightly shiver. “I’m sorry, I hope I wasn’t distracting you from your captain duties lately.” You kissed the large scar on his face, making him lean into your touch even more. You hated when he worried about you so much, you didn’t want to feel like a burden to him.
“It’s okay, sweets. You don’t have to be sorry, it isn’t your fault. And what did I tell you? You’re more way more important than my duties as a captain. I’ll give everything up just to be with you.” He gave your forehead a kiss and squeezed your hand reassuringly. You stared into his eyes, that had nothing but love and warmth in them. “I love you, Kenny.” You smiled, feeling a stinging sensation in your eyes, you were on the verge of crying your eyes out.
Words couldn’t describe how much you loved this man. Kenpachi hummed and used his thumb to wipe away the tears now falling from your eyes. “I love you too, more than you could ever imagine.” He gave you a gentle smile before kissing your ring finger, the beautiful diamond ring sparkling in the light.
“Papa, I brought back the water!” Yachiru held the cup of refreshing liquid in her hand as you laughed at her excitement. The pink haired girl couldn’t even sit still knowing that you were awake. Kenpachi put his hand on your lower back and began to sit you up gently, letting the blanket slip off your body. Which revealed your extremely skinny body. You leaned your back against your husband’s chest as he dropped his arm around your waist.
“Thank you, Yachi. You’re such a sweetheart.”
You smiled at her and pinched her pink cheek, which resulted in her giggling and smiling brighter than usual. Kenpachi picked up the cup before pressing to your lips, the refreshing liquid running down your throat with ease. “Mhmm—I needed this.” You smiled and continued to drink the coldness, making your throat open back up.
As you continued to drink the water as Kenpachi eyed you softly—he was so glad you were up that he wanted to jump up and give you a bear hug. But he knew he had to be fragile with your delicate body. Yachiru watched you with tears gathering up in her beautiful brown eyes, she couldn’t believe her “dad” was now up and speaking after being sleep all day! As much as she tried to deny it, her mind was heading for the worst.
Yachiru wasn’t dumb, she knew you were losing hair, weight, and had a hard time eating. As much as you and Kenpachi tried to hide it from her. She still remembers vividly how she sobbed her eyes out when she eavesdropped on the news of your sickness. Which explains why she’s more clingy than usual, she wants to spend all the time with you before something bad happens.
Once you were finished with the drink you could feel the rough hands your husband—who pulled the cup away from your dry lips and placed it on the floor next to him. “Papa, your lips are so dry! Would you like to use some of my lip balm?!” Yachiru broke the silence as she pulled out the lip balm, which was decorated in monster high stickers. You and Kenpachi couldn’t help but laugh when the little girl called your lips dry and offered her lip balm to you.
“Here Yachi, give him this. This is the one he usually use.” Kenpachi smiled and handed her the lip balm, which was pink with glitter and decorated in my little pony stickers. “Yeah that’s the one—Kenny!” You laughed and lightly punched his chest as him and Yachiru burst into a fit of laughter at your reaction. “Daddy! Did you see his face?!” She giggled as she rolled on her back at the sight of your shocked and confused face. Kenpachi chuckled and wiped the imaginary tear from his eye while he tried to give you the lip balm, the genuine smile never leaving his face. This was the most happiest you’ve ever seen them since you became sick, which made your heart swell up.
And after that, you spent the rest of your day with your little family. You all went to spend time in the garden There was no way you were going to let your sickness stop you from spending quality time with your beloved husband and daughter.
© gloryhrs, 102123. — notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦)
#(ㅅ´ ˘ `) @gloryhrs . . . !#anime#manga#animanga#bleach#bleach tybw#bleach imagines#bleach scenarios#bleach oneshot#kenpachi zaraki#kenpachi x you#kenpachi x y/n#bleach kenpachi#kenpachi x reader#bleach x male reader#male reader#black reader
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Unexpected and Undeserving
Here I am with another Cassiel fic. A bit long this time 🫶🫶🫶
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The pain had dulled to nothing. After years of getting wounded on the job, it was just something Cassiel had learned to live with. He gently pressed the gauze against his right shoulder one last time before tossing it into the bin. The bleeding had slowed significantly, he noticed as he inspected the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, considering the force of the strike. A blade like that should have been enough to take his head off, an utter reminder that even he couldn’t afford to be careless.
Yet, there were things far more painful than any physical wound, a truth Cassiel knew all too well. He could still feel the lingering ache of Audrey’s near death and the void her absence left in his already damned soul, gnawing at him relentlessly. After that fateful incident in the village, he found himself almost reluctant to give up his turn to watch over her, much to the dismay of Mikael and the others, who had become reluctant witnesses to his torment. Every moment away from her was pure agony.
He frowned, reaching for a damp washcloth, when suddenly, he froze. The door, he had left it open again. And now, in the dim light, he saw the unmistakable shadow of Audrey. Cassiel cursed under his breath just as she chose that moment to step forward, announcing her presence from the threshold.
“I-” Audrey stammered, her eyes darting everywhere but toward his bare torso, when he cut her off saying "I guess you’ve had enough of spying for today. Or were you afraid of getting caught red-handed?" he finished dryly.
Scrowling, she walked into the room and stopped close to him, her eyes now fixed on his shoulder. He could feel her exhilarating presence with his entire soul. Then she looked up at him, guilt was evident in her eyes. Ignoring his jab, she continued, "I was just passing by and heard you curse. Is it too painful?"
Cassiel shifted his gaze away from her face and continued cleaning the wound with a damp washcloth. "I’ll live. No need to worry about someone else cleaning the kennel, " he replied with a hint of sarcasm.
She rolled her eyes at that, and he couldn’t help but enjoy her reaction. Though he found it difficult with each passing day not to think about the other ways he could make her roll her eyes. Audrey moved closer and softy said, "You should stop being your cheerful self for a moment and let me help you with this." After a brief pause, she added with quiet insistence, "Please."
Her sweet scent filled his senses, and even in the dim light, he could see her lips move as she spoke. He was so captivated that it took him a moment to reply. "Aren’t you scared? I wouldn’t want to frighten away Astrea’s most valued employee just after her return. The guys, especially David, would never let me hear the end of it", he grumbled.
With a sigh, she gently took the washcloth from him and began cleaning the wound with careful precision. Cassiel studied her face, searching for any hint of repulsion or fear.
"You don’t scare me, Cas. You just don’t." She finally looked up, and he was stunned by the determination in her eyes. Then, as if embarrassed by her own revelation, Audrey lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of red. Something tightened in his chest. He wanted to lift her chin, make her look up so he could lose himself in her eyes again.
When she finished cleaning the wound, she set the cloth aside and picked up the ointment, applying it gently over the now clean cut. But suddenly, as if she couldn’t hold back any longer, she blurted out, "Do I need to call Raphael? Am I doing this right? Does it sting?"
He blinked at the fast paced questions she just threw at him and frowned. "I’m fine. Do you really think I can’t handle a minor wound?" he replied, irritation creeping into his voice.
Audrey bit her lip, trying not to smile, and looked up at him. "Oh, my bad! I forgot that the mighty knight who fought off the huge bat in my room is immortal and invincible."
His heart skipped a beat, and he asked, confused, "Is that a joke?"
Shaking her head, she picked up the bandage to secure the wound and asked again, "How did it happen?"
Cassiel, his voice edged with annoyance, said, “Are you always this inquisitive, or is it just me?”
Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Only with you, since you’re the most forthcoming and talkative."
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "That’s not funny," he grumbled.
"Then work on your sense of humor," she shot back, continuing to wrap the wound.
Curious to know more about what was going on in her pretty little head, he prompted, "It’s part of the job."
Audrey sighed and looked up, her eyes filled with questions. "Always, isn’t it?"
Instead of answering, Cassiel gently, though a bit awkwardly, tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. She was beyond gorgeous, especially in those moments of vulnerability when she opened her heart to him, allowing him to protect and cherish her. He couldn’t help himself.
In that moment, lost deep in each other's eyes, he wanted nothing more than to pull her close, to feel her soft body molding against his rough one, to forget about heaven, hell, and everything in between. But he knew he shouldn't. He would hurt her. More than anything, he needed to protect her from himself. The thought made him clench his jaw.
Her eyes widened, and as if reading his thoughts, she whispered, "I know you would never harm me. I know you care about me, Cas. I-I care about you too. So please-" She swallowed hard. "Please be careful."
Something snapped within him at the sound of her pleading voice. He suddenly pulled her toward him, their faces close, desperate to forget about their impending fate, the case, the beast, their differences, and their shared goal. Sensing his turmoil and taking it as his hesitation, she impatiently gripped his shirt and brought her lips close to his. They breathed into each other, and just as he started doubting her intentions, she suddenly crushed her lips against his.
Cassiel groaned in relief, but Audrey, mistaking the sound for pain, pulled away, frightened. "You better not stop now," he said breathlessly. "Or you might actually kill me."
Realizing what he meant, she carefully wrapped her arms around him, mindful of his wounded shoulder, as he pulled her onto his lap. Threading her fingers through his hair, she kissed him again, this time with assurance.
He drew her closer, not wanting to leave even the smallest space between them. He wanted her, wanted her with all his cold and chipped heart, despite who he was, despite what he was. His pace quickened, driven by a desperate need for more. He wanted to feel her until she was all he could feel, to be consumed by her as he had been by thoughts of her since the day she knocked on their door.
He felt her whimper against him and suppressed a groan, the desire to make her writhe beneath him nearly overwhelming. Just as he was about to invade her mouth with his tongue, she breathlessly pulled away, resting her forehead against his. He closed his eyes feeling her bossom heaving in sync with his chest.
They stayed like that for several minutes, not worrying about the consequences, just savoring the moment. He didn't want to think about what the guys would say. Nothing had felt so right in so long as this kiss.
After catching her breath, Audrey cleared her throat, prompting him to loosen his arms around her. She pulled away and looked at him. But instead of the relief he expected, he saw sadness in her eyes. Anxiety crawled into his heart. Slowly, they stood up, and it finally dawned on him. She was still unsure of what he was. Acceptance of their feelings alone would never be enough. But what will happen when she discovers his true nature? Will it leave her deeply scarred? Will she be able to accept him? Cassiel was determined to ensure she would never have to make that choice.
Quickly masking her sadness with sarcasm, she said, "Much the talker, Cas?" And then with one of her dry smirks, she hurried out of the room before he had the chance to thank her, thank her for giving him a part of herself he knew he didn’t deserve, for accepting a part of himself he believed should be condemned. That's when he decided that no matter what the future held for them, she would always be his to protect.
#Their first kiss 🥹🥹#Since Elena didn't#So I did#ABSOLUTELY LOVE HOW GRUMPY HE IS#LOVE HOW HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THESE FEELINGS BECAUSE HE ONLY KNOWS HOW TO KILL#Screaming crying throwing up 24x7 for him#romance club#rc Cassiel#rc abh#Astrea's broken heart#Rc Audrey#Cassiel fic#rc astrea's broken heart#Cassiel x Audrey
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Travis "Trapper" Beasley NSFW Alphabet
A = Aftercare (how good are they at aftercare?)
Once you start sleeping together, Trapper is excellent at aftercare, always bringing you a drink of water or whatever you’d like after sex, and bringing a warm wet washcloth to clean you both up in case things get a little messy 😉
B = Body part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner? Themselves?
Trapper doesn’t really have a favorite body part of his partner, he tends to look at the whole package rather than focus on any of your individual features, but he’d probably tell you it was your eyes if you asked him because he’s a big softie
His favorite part of himself is probably his hair, though he’d never admit it, he puts so much effort into making it look like he didn’t do anything to it
C = Cum (Where do they like to cum, etc)
Trapper will cum anywhere you want him to, and always asks permission before he does, but his favorite place to cum has to be on your stomach, he likes to fuck you until he can’t hold back and pull out, shooting his load over your tummy and sometimes onto your pussy
D = Dirty Secret
The only dirty secret Trapper might keep from his partner at first is that he likes to be pegged, he would be nervous to bring it up in a new relationship, afraid of how his partner would react to the suggestion. With you, it didn’t take long for him to feel comfortable opening up about this, especially once he decided he wanted to spend his life with you
E = Experience
Trapper has a moderate amount of experience, though has only had a handful of short-lived relationships in the past, everyone he’d dated had tried to change him in some way and so Trapper hadn’t stayed around for long with any of them, until you. He’d had a handful of one-night stands and never had a complaint, so he supposes he can’t be that bad in bed
F = Favourite Position
Trapper loves kissing you, so missionary is his go to, he loves to feel his body pressed against yours and stare into your eyes as he fucks you deep and slow
G = Goofy or Serious?
Trapper is absolutely goofy when it comes to intimacy, whether he means to be or not. He has too much personality not to be, giggling and outright laughter not uncommon when the two of you are intimate, though he can be serious when he wants to be, and very romantic
H = Hair (How do they groom themselves, etc.)
Okay so sorry girls, Trapper absolutely does not trim himself downstairs, that shit is au naturale and that’s what he prefers in a partner as well (no big surprise here, right?)
I = Intimacy (How good are they with intimacy?)
Trapper is a bit clumsy at first with physical intimacy, only because he’s so nervous, he’s never been with anyone like you before and he doesn’t know how to show you how he feels. However, he’s also great at flirting and general intimate conversation, always quick with the perfect thing to say, especially when you’re feeling bad
J = Jack off (How often do they masturbate?)
Trapper masturbates occasionally, but not often, preferring the real thing and just going without rather than substituting his hand most of the time.
K = Kink(s)
Trapper loves very light bondage, and has a particular interest in shibari, he finds it beautiful though he has no experience with it in his personal sex life, always having been too afraid to bring it up in the past.
L = Location (Where do they like to do the deed)
Trapper will do it anywhere you get the tiniest bit of privacy and time together, though he loves having you in the bedroom to himself for as long as he’d like, making your time together last as long as he can
M = Motivation (What turns them on?)
It doesn’t take anything more than kissing to turn Trapper on if he’s with someone he loves, like you. During a light makeout session there’s a tent in his pants within 30 seconds and he’s ready to go at it
N = NO (What WON’T they do with a partner)
Trapper will NEVER hurt you or do anything that has any risk of hurting you, that’s a hard line that he will never cross
P = Pace
Trapper likes it slow, he loves to take his time with you, sliding his cock in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm once you’ve moved beyond foreplay, which he also loves to take his time with
Q = Quickie
Trapper is always up for a quickie, he can’t get enough of you once you start seeing each other intimately, sneaking off whenever you get a spare few minutes for at least a little kissing and some heavy petting if you haven’t got time for anything else
R = Risk
There isn’t much to say here, Trapper is surprisingly not much into risky sex, it just doesn’t turn him on
S = Stamina
Trapper isn’t exhausted easily, though he does have his limits. He can go around three rounds in a night, though he can’t keep that kind of action up indefinitely, on nights when you’re both in the mood and not too physically or emotionally exhausted making love once or twice. Trapper especially likes to fuck in the shower and then again once you get to bed afterward, he loves the intimacy of bathing together
T = Toys
Trapper doesn’t have any toys when you get together, though he is open to trying them, happy to find which ones work for the both of you and which ones don’t through *ahem* a little experimentation
U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)
Oh Trapper thinks he’s so funny when he teases you in the bedroom, but you know how to give it right back to him, teaching him his lesson in the best way. He loves rubbing his cock through your wet folds without putting it in, teasing you as you beg him to fuck you. You pout when he teases you but he knows you love it and don’t ever want him to stop doing it
V = Volume
Trapper is very vocal in bed, though not very loud. He likes to whisper in your ear as he fucks you, telling you every sweet, romantic thought that pops into his head when you’re together.
W = Wild Card
Absolutely loves oral sex, eating you out puts him on cloud nine, he can’t get enough of the way you smell and taste, and he loves giving hickeys and light bruises from kissing/sucking his way down your body, the closest he’d ever get to anything painful in the bedroom, and only if you’re okay with it. He loves the idea of you walking around well loved and marked up by him and only him
X = X-Ray
Trapper is average length though a little thicker than average underneath those cargo pants
Y = Yearning
If he had his way, Trapper would be with you in some way or other all hours of the day. Once he can touch you and kiss you, he’s all over you as soon as you get a spare moment together, even if all you have time for is a few heated kisses. When you can’t be together intimately, he’s always touching you in some way, either draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you against him or holding your hand
Z = Zzz
Trapper likes to stay awake for awhile after sex, he likes to talk about anything and everything on both your minds as you drift off to sleep until one of you is snoring through the conversation (usually you). He chuckles and pulls you close to him, your head resting on his chest, Trapper gradually falling asleep as well, arms around you
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If your still doin Psychonauts self ship content then how about some Edgar Teglee or Fred Bonaparte x reader hcs (there’s like no self ship content for any of the characters much less the thorny towers patients)
OMGG THE THORNEY TOWERS GANG MY FAVS!!
BUT YEAH FR THERE’S NOT A LOT OF PN CONTENT IN GENERAL BUT ESPECIALLY NOT FOR THE ASYLUM GIRLIES ☹️
I’m doing both of em cuz I’m here to provide 😋
🎨Edgar Teglee General HCs🎨
💜 I feel like this is obvious but he loves drawing you and gifting you art.
-> You’re his default subject. Like I said, he LOVES drawing you :-]
-> He’ll also gift you art that he just thinks you’ll like.
-> His love language is gift giving & words of affirmation >:-]
💜 Edgar feels as if he needs to impress you all the time. This may be rooted in a fear that you’ll grow bored of him if he doesn’t.
-> You reassure him that isn’t true!!
💜 He can be a little protective over you around people he doesn’t know or trust.
(That old relationship got him MESSED up bro😭)
-> Other than that he’s a HUGE softie.
GUYS whatever you do DONT imagine Edgar teasing you by grabbing ahold of your face and smearing a bit of paint on you. Then you have a moment where he’s washing the paint off you with a warm washcloth!:! Don’t Do it Guys!!😦
——————————————
Ok babygirl Fred time 😎
💌Fred Bonaparte General HCs💌
♥️ For starters, if you weren’t aware, Waterloo by ABBA? 100% Fred and his love interest. Listen this song got me giggling and twirling my hair 😭
Mind animatics go crazy to this song lemme tell you 😭😭
Abba had the Fred selfshippers in mind when they wrote this in 1973 /j
♥️ His love language is acts of service and quality time !!
♥️ Ok hear me out. Fred doodling your name in pretty and cutesy calligraphy in his spare time. (additionally? the paper is adorned with lil hearts he drew? <3)
♥️ Fred doesn’t realize he’s falling for you until it’s too late oops.
-> He’d get bashful when thinking ab you. And won’t openly admit that he caught feelings. “Oh we’re just friends!”, he says but then proceeds to look at you the way the moon looks at the sun.
♥️ If you call Fred any french terms of endearment; i.e. mon chéri, mon amour, etc, he’s speechless. He is torn between his disdain for french & his infatuation with you (spoiler alert you win).
-> there’s just something about you?? he wasn’t sure what it was..
♥️ Fred constantly hovers behind you. Just hold his hand. It’ll make him feel a bit better. It lets him know that you’re still there.
…
So there’s this lil scenario that I rotate around in my head like a microwave where both Fred and Y/n work at thorney towers back in the day.
They don’t really know each other but they admire each other work from a distance because they’re both too shy to say anything.
You two gradually getting to know each other.
Thinking about the asylum courtyard in it’s prime. Or even walking down to the shore. Awkward yet sweet hangouts. Accidentally brushing up against each other and turning bright red, avoiding eye contact. 🤯
————————————-
Ok that’s all for now
(I lov u thorney towers self ship gang🔥)
(interact if u wish cuz I love hyping you guys up😋💖)
#you’ll never guess who my fav is#psychonauts x reader#edgar teglee x reader#fred bonaparte x reader#tbh might as well drop the Fred selfship mixtape (it’s a banger)
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Idk if you already did "vomite" in your "bad things happen bingo" but i was thinking in an scenario where Breagan has a stabilized relationship and Reagan starts vomiting and they think she's pregnant? Though it wouldn't be a "bad thing" of course so maybe they realized later she was intoxicated??
This was really fun to write. Sorry it took so long!
Note: Request are open. Bad Things Happen Open Too
—-
It was the middle of the night, and Brett felt something shifted around him. Although he was very tired and ignored it, pulling Reagan closer to him. At least she was okay. Maybe she just moved in her sleep.
—-
He fell back asleep but something in his mind told him to get up. Through blurred tired eyes, Brett expected Reagan to be in his arms; however looking down, it was just a pillow. Was he just holding a pillow this whole time? Where was Reagan?
The door to their bedroom was open and he could see the light under the bathroom door. She was probably in the bathroom. That makes sense. Looking at the clock it read three-forty-six am. He could wait for her and then go back to sleep. Both of them find it easier to sleep on each other's arms
Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Eighteen. Brett was getting worried. Eighteen minutes in the bathroom? Something might be wrong. He turned the desktop lamp on and got out of bed and to the bathroom.
The hallway was dimly lit as Brett walked through. It kinda gave Brett an eerie feeling despite knowing nothing was there. Maybe he should get a night light. He knocked on the bathroom door a few times.
"Reagan..? Are you there? Are you okay?" Brett hears a wet cough and gagging. That didn't sound good. "You think I can come in?"
There wasn't an answer and Brett grabbed onto the doorknob. Hee was getting really worried. Turning it, revealing that it was unlocked, Brett finds Reagan over the toilet. The smell of puke was strong. He came just in time as Reagan vomited into the toilet. Wincing, Brett pulled her hair back. There was vomit already clinging in there but he could clean it off.
Reagan eventually stop vomiting and leaned against the toilet bowl. Brett flushed the toilet and sat close, rubbing her back as she catches her breath
"Did.. did I wake you up?' Reagan asked. Her voice was raspy “Sorry..”
"No. You didn’t ." Brett whispered. "But I'm glad I'm awake now. How long were you in here for?"
“I didn't check... uh.” A pause as Reagan thinks “When.. was the last time we had sex?"
"Uh..I don't remember. Why?"
"Maybe.. I'm pregnant? I've been puking for half an hour and ..my period didn't come or.. maybe it's not time yet."
Admittedly, they had sex often. Sometimes in Reagan's lab or at home. Most times without protection. Honestly the idea of kids never appeared in their mind. Work made them too tired to and the idea of showing love to each other was too strong to resist.
"Brett.. are we even ready for that..,?" Reagan asked. Her eyes were wide as she thought about the possibility of having a kid. Would she be a good parent? Would her body be able to produce a healthy kid? Oh God, just thinking.. it made her want to vomit again
Brett frowned, and put his hand on her face, slowly caressing it. She was rambling. It snaps Reagan out of her thoughts and he gives a smile when she faces him
"Hold on. Let's not panic yet. I'll can go get a test. Maybe this is something else? But I think we would be great parents." Brett responds. He was a little surprised when she shook her head
"No.. Brett. I might turn out like my dad. I can't.. I don't want to see a kid deal with me. They'll hate if I screw- screw.." The sickening feeling overtakes Reagan and she's vomiting in the toilet again. Brett sighed sadly and grabbed a washcloth from the hook and soaked it into water. Once Reagan's done, he flushed the toilet, turn the fan on and went to clean Reagan up
"Why do you think you'll be like your dad? I mean, you already know what he did wrong?" Brett asked softy.
"I just.. I don't know. There's this feeling I'll be a shitty parent." Reagan replies. She tries to grab the cloth herself but Brett keeps it out of her reach. She sighed in defeat and let him wipe the vomit off
"I don't think so. I mean, I imagine we'll be better than our parents…Like spent time with the kid. Maybe they'll be on my shoulders while we're walking in the park. You can get them ice cream."
"Why.. can't I be.. the one carrying them?"
"We can switch! But we don't have to be like our family. We'll be loving. We'll play with them and comfort them when they're crying. And.. we don't have to put any pressure on them. No Shadow Government, no "always be in first place". Just.. a happy family."
"Yeah.. it.. sounds nice." Reagan smiled at the thought. It calmed the uneasiness she was feeling. The fan had also gotten rid of the throw up smell. Brett then smelt alcohol. Weird. It was faint but nonetheless, it was there. Actually it seemed like it was.. coming from… He brought Reagan closer to his body. He could smell alcohol in her breath.
“Reagan, did you have any drinks earlier? I remember you went out with Gigi and Andre for dinner tonight.”
“I..I think so..?” Reagan slurred. She was getting tired. “I.. don’t remember.. how much. You.. you were already asleep.. when I came home..”
“Oh yeah..” Brett mumbled. Guilt hits him knowing he could have taken care of her earlier, they probably wouldn’t be in the bathroom right now. It actually makes more sense than her being pregnant. Maybe her mind just came up with that idea because she probably got too drunk. He knew how Reagan was if she drank too much. Her mind doesn’t function right.
“Well.. let’s just go to bed okay. You need to sleep this off.” He cleaned the last of the vomit in her hair and picked Reagan up in his arms. Usually she would fight back about this but she was tired.
Brett settled her down and made her drink a few sips of water. Afterward, he opened the covers and they both got in. Immediately his arms reach around Reagan, and pull her close to him, making sure not to squeeze too hard. Reagan seemed relaxed at the gesture and snuggles into him, a hand grabbing his arm.
She’s asleep in a few minutes, and Brett follows along. Closing his eyes with a content sigh
#inside job#renew inside job#breagan#brett hand#reagan ridley#tw: vomit#bad things happen bingo#vomiting#inside job fanfic
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(dream anon) [they watch him, happy to see that he can move, picking up the warm washcloth and carefully wiping over the massive splatter of cum on his belly. his words make them smile again and they set the washcloth aside when they're done, kissing him on the forehead.] i think you were perfect, it can be hard to ask for these things. we're both still feeling out our limits. i'm really glad i did well for you. [he looks blissfully exhausted and it's, once again, very cute. they stroke his cheek, capturing his lips in another kiss before nodding.] i'd love that too, my sweet pet. i'm glad you like it, i think it really suits you. [they carefully remove the collar, setting it on the nightstand and pulling back the blanket.] are you ready for some hard-earned rest, Father?
Mm-hm, definitely.
[I sit up enough to move the blankets back and crawl under, waiting for them to join me and snuggling close when they do. I lean forward to kiss them again, softy on their cheek and lips. I can't stop smiling faintly, feeling so content and warm and worn-out. There's a brief shuffle as I get comfortable against them.]
Just for an hour or two, or I'll never be able to sleep tonight. You did so good, thank you. Treated me so perfectly.
[I can feel my eyes getting heavier, my breathing slower and deep.]
G'night for now. /Ee-ha wah/?
[Oh, I know I've butchered that, how exactly did they say it? Oíche mhaith?]
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The water began to run, making sure the temperature was just right for her before he laid out a towel and a washcloth out for on the counter. Then he tended to the quick last things he needed to do…apply deodorant, then move his towel away from his waist in exchange for pulling on clean boxers and his dark blue sweat pants. Once he put his towel in the hamper and took his phone with him, the blond stepped back out and chuckled at remembering what she said last.
“I’m not a softy for you, Lucy Gray.” he denied, smiling with a hint of amusement as he’s walking over, turning the overhead light off and going to his lamp. Pressing the on switch before he sits down on his bed, “You go ahead, water’s running and towels are on the counter.”
❝ you're a softy around me though, so i'll go back to callin' you gorgeous. ❞ lucy gray grinned as she looked at him. as he told her that he'll turn the shower on for her, the brunette nodded. ❝ thank ya', gorgeous. i appreciate it. i appreciate everything you've done for me today, ❞ she smiled at him, big brown doe eyes meeting his once more. coriolanus had done more for her in one night than billy taupe had their entire relationship, she was starting to realize just how bad her relationship had been, acknowledging it to herself. seeing how the blonde treated her was opening her eyes to everything wrong with her previous relationship.
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