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fandomhcs · 1 month

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dating frank castle would include:

frank castle doesn’t do anything half assed. that includes a relationship. you may have a hell of a time actually getting him into one, but once he is he’ll never waver.

he would struggle between being the punisher and being frank, the man who loves you. though he fully understands that you can that care of yourself, he wants to keep his life as the punisher far away from you. of course its not always possible, but he wants to keep you as safe he can. rest assured, as long as he’s there nothing can touch you. he’d stop anything, give up anything, to keep you safe.

losing maria and the kids changed him, broke him apart and forced him to scramble to gather any pieces he could. losing you now, after facing all of that loss and all that pain? no way he could handle that.

and so he’s overprotective, he’s paranoid, he’ll check and double check the locks on your windows and doors until you drag him to bed. while the two of you don’t leave the house together too often, when you do he makes sure to keep you no more than an arm’s length away at all times.

his paranoia is the biggest source of fights in your relationship. he isn’t one for conflict, despite being the punsiher and all. fighting with you is different, and he doesn’t like it when it happens. often times you’ll have it out with each other only for him to go quiet, swallow his pride and take some time to calm down before he can come talk out the problem with you.

but outside of the danger, when things are quiet and peaceful between the two of you there is no sweeter man than frank castle. he’s head over heels for you, it’s easy to see. in his eyes you are everything he never thought he’d have again. sure, he may not have the whole wife, kids, white fence type of life with you. he may never be ready for that, but being with you feels like coming home. it scares him how good it feels to have a place, a person, he can call home again.

movies nights and television marathons are a must. the second you are both home for the night he’ll wrap you up in his arms and drag you to the couch for cuddles. though he isn’t too big on pda, in the privacy of your home he just can’t help himself.

he lives for the small touches. holding your hand, forehead kisses, fingers grazing your shoulders as he passes by you. its a reminder, every time he feels your skin under his fingertips. a reminder that you are there, with him, safe and sound and alive.

you make him smile. force him to watch stupid comedies or over dramatic soap operas that you both get waaayy too invested in. he makes you try your coffee black, does the dishes for you before you get up in the mornings, keeps you trapped in his arms whenever you try to get up for food.

he cooks for you sometimes. a lovely surprise that comes out of nowhere. the big bad punisher? popping out with restaurant quality meals all because you’d had a shitty day at work and needed a pick-me-up? that’s art. he doesn’t cook often, but when he does it is magical.

though as far as your cooking, he’ll eat literally anything. you could burn it to coal and he’ll eat it with a smile. he might make fun of you for it, but you’ll see him finish his plate no matter what. he’s a dork like that.

you both whisper your secrets underneath warm sheets with one of his hands tapping a chaotic rhythm on your shoulder and the other gripping your fingers tight. he tells you their names. maria. lisa. frank jr. he tells you of their laughter, their toys, their lives. and he tells you of their deaths, tears spilling from his eyes as he breaks into your arms. your heart breaks with him, but being able to share them with someone who loves him, and by extension loves and respects them too, is such a weight off his shoulders.

they’re ghosts, but not the kind that haunt. the kind that leave your chest aching but also a soft smile on your face. they don’t plague him anymore, he is finally able to think of them without his world going dark. they’ll always be in his heart, he’ll never allow himself to forget them, but you help him realize that he can have happiness once again.

life is perfectly boring with frank, something he forgot just how much he’d missed. you bring peace into his life, even though he never wanted you to. but he’ll be forever grateful that you did. this man will love you with a passion and an intensity that you’ll find nowhere else.

that is, if you can handle his snoring.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #frank castle reader insert #hcs #dwi

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 7 months

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"Did you lie to me?" Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F! Reader

Summary: The Daggers are about to embark on the most dangerous mission of their career. The odds are survival are slim. Too bad that your boyfriend Rooster has failed to mention that.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F! Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, lying, he's so pretty but that doesn't mean smart.

Cross Posted on AO3

“How you feelin’ kid?” Maverick sits at one of the stools, his hands tightening on the glass of bourbon before him, the glass sweating from how long he’s sat there.

You glance across the room at Rooster, laughing with the rest of the squad, “I don’t really want him to go, but it’s his duty.”

“You’re taking it a lot better than Penny,” he shakes his head, swallowing the last mouthful of liquor. Your brow furrows and you lean closer to hear him above the crowd, “I’m gonna do my best to bring him back home, but this mission,” he sighs, “this one I’m not so sure any of us are coming back from.”

The glass in your hand shatters and his eyes widen as he stands, “I’m sorry kid, I wasn’t thinking…” Maverick starts apologizing but you put a hand up, and it visibly trembles.

“It’s that serious?” You ignore the way he swears, obviously realizing that you have no idea. “Rooster didn’t tell me any details obviously,” you mumbled to yourself running over every word he’d said, “but he told me it was safe, a surefire mission, nothing to worry about.”

You glance up at Bradley, his eyes meeting yours across the bar and the smile drops from his face. He hands the pool cue over to Hangman and quickly crosses to you, “You okay, baby?” he reaches a hand out for your shoulder when you take a step back, out of his reach.

“Did you lie to me?” you whisper, the tears getting choked in your throat. From behind him the over aviators close in noticing the tension vibrating from your body.

“What?” Bradley furrows, “I can’t hear you, baby.”

“I said,” you raise your voice, other patrons turning closer, “did you lie to me?” His expression turns somber and you let out a sob, covering your mouth, “oh, my god,” you whisper, “you did.”

“Robbie,” Bradley calls out, “can you cover?” his eyes never leave yours, “she needs to go home.”

“Fuck that,” you shake your head, the tears falling down your cheeks, “you were just going to let me work till close while you drank a beer and played pool with your friends, knowing that you could be going off to die tomorrow?! You didn’t even have the decency to warn me.”

“I didn’t want it to change anything,” he shouts back, his voice cold, “yeah,” he nods, “there is a strong probability if I’m chosen I don’t make it back alive. Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

“Rooster,” Phoenix puts a hand on his arm, grimacing over at you, “calm down, man.”

He pulls his arm out of her grip, turning back to you. “I saw what losing my dad, did to my mom. I saw how she would worry herself sick waiting for him to come back. I didn’t want that for you. I just wanted to leave you with a happy normal night, is that too much to ask?! But no, you have to go turn it into a goddamn soap opera. What?” he throws his arms up, “did you want to lay in each other’s arms and cry? Is that what you want?!”

You wrap your arms around yourself, knuckles turning white with how hard you’re clenching, and the tears are silently spilling down your cheeks. He’s breathing hard, the anger seeping out as he takes in your trembling form, “fuck,” he whispers, pressing his palm to his eyes, “Baby, I-I didn’t mean it.”

“Please just go,” you whisper, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie you stole from his closet before work. He lowers his hands, his eyes watching you but you refuse to meet them, focusing on a point on the bar. “I just want to get back to work, we’ll have a normal night, just like you wanted.”

“Baby,” he reaches out but the others hold him back.

“She needs some space,” Bob puts a hand on his chest, “just give her some time.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix nods, “that was a lot Rooster.”

You can’t listen to them anymore so you switch sides with Robbie, his hand softly pressed to your shoulder. “You can head out,” he nods toward the door, “I can handle the rest of the night by myself.”

“I’m scheduled to close,” you remind him, “and besides, I don’t have anywhere I need to be right now.” He lets go with a nod and takes his place before the others, Rooster arguing with them.

“If you’re not ordering a drink, then get the hell out of the bar before I ring the bell on your sorry ass,” Robbie puts his beefy arms over his chest.

You tune the rest out, making drinks and focusing on the routine and pattern. Rooster is eventually pulled away from the bar and back to the pool tables but he stays in a hightop in the corner watching your every move. His eyes burn as they follow you but you don’t have the heart to even glance up at him.

Robbie clocks out, giving you a wave and glaring over at Rooster before he locks the door behind him. Everyone else is long gone, leaving just the two of you alone at the bar.

“Please just go,” you finally turn towards him when you hear the chair being moved out at the bartop. His eyes are bloodshot and he swallows hard, as you turn your back to him.

“Are you coming home?” he asks, his voice trembling.

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m going to stay at Penny’s. I sent her a text a few hours ago and she said it was no problem.”

“Baby,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you walk over to him, “Sorry for yelling at me in front of an entire bar for giving a shit? Or sorry for lying to me about how you're going on a suicide mission?”

He goes to answer when you cut him off, a hand to your chest, “Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasp, “is this too much of a soap opera for you?”

“I deserve that,” he nods, “and all the rest of it. Baby,” he holds out a hand, “I’m so fucking sorry for all of it. I should never have lied to you, I was just trying to spare you.”

“Spare me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he stands, coming over to the opening of the bar bending down to get in and walk to your side. “I was so fucking scared that if I told you the truth, you would spend the next few days worried sick. And when I didn’t come back-”

“If,” you correct him taking a step closer, “if you didn’t come back.”

“If,” he puts his hands gently on your waist, “I didn’t want your last memory of me to be sick with worry. I was trying to keep everything normal to spare you the pain.”

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, Bradley Bradshaw. I love you, I should be given the choice of whether I get to worry or not. And for the record, we’ve only been together a short time and I already know I’ll ALWAYS worry about you when you’re gone.”

He’s gone slack-jawed, and you realize what you’ve said. “You love me?” he whispers and the tears stream down his cheek, he clears his throat before asking again. “Do you love me?”

“I do,” you whisper, “I love you so fucking much, Rooster.” He grabs the back of your head and pulls you close, your back digging into the bar as he devours your mouth.

You come up for air a few minutes later and he holds your face keeping your eyes on him. “I love you,” he mumbles between kisses, “I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you. But I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Well you need to get used to something, Bradley Bradshaw, if we’re going to be together forever.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“And what’s that?” he leans back and forth taking you with him as he rocks you both to the jukebox still playing in the corner.

“You don’t spare my feelings, or try to protect me. I can make up my own mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, “noted.”

“Now Bradshaw?” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes, ma’am?” he grins, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Take me to bed, or lose me forever.”

#Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #Female Reader #Rooster x Reader #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Fanfiction #Autumn Writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Second Best 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your shift comes to an end and you heave a sigh of relief as you leave the hotel. You’re tired and slightly irritated. That guest Thor mentioned wasn’t friendly when you dropped of fresh towels. Not even a thank you.

Oh well, you’re free now. To do… absolutely nothing. Your agitation grows. Usually you’d call up Greta and waste time together but you’re not doing that anymore.

So what do you do? Go home and sew? Watch some soap operas with your mom? Maybe you could go for a nice walk…

Sure. Your feet are sore from your shift, you wouldn’t make it very far. You huff and roll your eyes. You’ll just hang out in your room or whatever. It’s par for the course in Hammer Ford.

You come to the bottom of Thunder Lane and turn onto one of the longer country roads. Your parents’ house isn’t terribly far, not when the weather is nice. You grip the strap of your slouch bag and yawn. A nap is tempting but with you’re luck, you’ll oversleep and end up awake all night.

The noise of an engine and mulching tires approaches. You don’t look back as you sidle over on the apron. There’s more than enough room for them to pass, you always make sure of that. Yet, you notice how the vehicle slows and the bumper pokes out just along your peripheral. As you walk on, the car keeps a snailish pace with you.

You glance over and withhold a cringe. Just what you need. The sheriff rolls down his window as he taps on the gas. He hooks his elbow through the door as he keeps his other hand on the wheel.

“Hey, darlin’, need a ride?” He drawls.

“No thanks, sheriff,” you turn your head straight and pick up your pace.

“You ain’t live far, I can drop ya off no problem.”

“Like you said, it’s not too far,” you agree, adjusting your grip on your bag.

He snickers as the gravel grits beneath the tracks of his tires, “I see,” he keeps his slow crawl, “you one of those ladies who don’t need no man, huh?”

“I… guess,” you shrug, keeping your eyes ahead of you.

“How’s that? Don’t you live with your daddy?”

You wince. That’s a low blow, even if it is true.

“Sure do,” you answer dully.

“I’m not sayin’ it to embarrass you, I’m just wonderin’,” he coaxes, “don’t mean nothing at all.”

“Thank you, sheriff.”

“You gonna look at me, huh?”

You peek over again. You don’t say a word as you keep walking. He watches you as you watch him. His gaze makes your blood run cold.

“Come on, get in,” he says.

You frown, “I said, I’m fine.”

“You sure are stubborn,” he clucks, “I thought an old man like yours would teach ya some respect.”

You face the horizon again, keeping one foot in front of the other, “I haven’t been disrespectful, sir.”

He huffs and doesn’t respond. You press on as he pulls ahead. You watch him drive off, picking up speed as he rolls away. You exhale and bite your cheek. That was weird.

You watch him stop just down the way and reverse. He veers his back bumper around and swerves back to face you. He must’ve got a call. You don’t think too much of it. He slams on the gas, revving back in your direction.

He gets closer and closer. You expect him to drive past but you realise, he isn’t following the lines. He’s driving right at you!

You stagger and jump to the side. You hurdle yourself off the apron across the ditch and hit the grass on your knees. Your bag swings up over your shoulder and weighs you down. You twist onto your ass and pant at him as he stops just short of the divet in the ground.

He laughs through the open window as he flicks his lights on and his siren whoops, sending your heart to lurch again. You scramble back on your hands and stand up shakily. He backs up again and steers the car straight.

“Better be careful on the backroads,” he idles just across the ditch from you, “lotta careless drivers around here.”

You gape at him. He didn’t just try to kill you. He wouldn’t. He’s the sheriff. And for what? Because you didn’t want to go with him and Greta? Or because you didn’t want a ride?

“See ya round, darlin’,” he taunts and spins the wheel, speeding off in the other direction. His tires kick up rocks and send a cloud of dust into the air behind him.

You reach down to wipe off your pants and try to shake off the adrenaline. You still can’t believe what just happened. It just doesn’t make sense.

You sniff and look around. It’s just you, out in the middle of nowhere. He did all that but he could have done more. You’re lucky he didn’t.

You stay on the far side of the ditch, edging close to the trees as you set back towards home. You’ll cut through the forest, just to be sure. You’d almost rather face a black bear than chance another run-in with the sheriff.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #drabble #series #backwoods au #second best #au #the devil all the time

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sunandmhoon · 5 months

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Love Songs

Genre: fluff Pairing: Jeonghan X Reader “He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his?” w/c: 1926 a/n: Hello~~ new story hehe!! Also it’s fluff this time wooohooo. Also idk if you’ve noticed but every svt story so far has been based off a song…hmmm i wonder why that is?? (also I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies) ps: pics are from pintrest ctto :) MASTERLIST; OTHER WORKS Jeonghan was never a person that falls in love easily.

It’s not that he’s anti-romantic, or that he hates the concept of giving love or receiving love. In fact, on some days when the rain gets too loud, the room gets too cold and the sky gets too grey, he longs for a nice warm hug from a person that he loves.

He’s had girlfriends before, but they always end in the same way. The same, ‘it’s not you, it’s me” argument. And it is true, he can never find himself infatuated with a person for more than a month. He still finds them attractive of course but he’s never been interested in them, their goals, their big dreams or even their small ones.

That was until he met you.

Meeting you was like an angel appeared at his door; like a gift from cupid to cure his lonely heart. A gift in the form of a new roommate.

Seungkwan was staying in the flat with him before he moved out to his hometown, leaving behind his room and another part of the rent he had to pay. In his absence though, Seungkwan–ever the social butterfly– recommended the place to you, and although Jeonhan was wary at first, he definitely had to thank Seungkwan now.

When he first met you he felt as though his house was graced by a higher being. The sun flooded into the room in golden rays, shining around you, creating a halo above your head. And though he was the known heartbreaker around town, he felt his palms go sweaty and his ears turn hot. And when you spoke, he felt he got worse. Your voice sounded just like it was dipped in honey; smooth and sweet. He could listen to it forever. Your expressions were kind and gentle, you were the type of person that could lure anyone into your charm like a siren in the sea.

He was attracted to you, so so attracted to you, but he brushed it off. It was probably just that, Attraction, nothing more.

As the days went by you two grew closer. First it was catching each other in the kitchen at 3am for a midnight snack. From then on you started talking to each other more. You find out that he’s been living in the flat for five years, he finds out that you just moved to the city. He’s taken you around the area to get you familiar with your surroundings, you’ve cooked him dinner in exchange (and because he only eats ramen in the house). He’s introduced you to his friends, you’ve introduced him to your family.

You even go to him when you need to rant. School’s being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, Your parents are being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, the neighbour that for some reason finds the need to be up at 4am every single morning watching their soap opera at full volume with their door open is being annoying? Go to Jeonghan. Just like the new flat’s been your physical home, Jeonghan has been your emotional home.

You tell him everything, and even though he loves it, he loves that he could be a person you can come to–can talk to and rant to about your hardships, feelings, accomplishments, he somehow hates it when you come to him for advice on love.

“How do I get a boyfriend, Han?”, “Why don’t guys like me?” to “Han, I’ve been talking to this guy”, “what do you think of him?” to the dreaded, “He asked me out on a date!”, “How do I look?” he’s been there through it all. And he won't admit it–he can’t admit that he likes you, he can’t admit that he hates when you tell him not to wait up for you because you’ll be at Woozi’s for the night. He can’t admit that it bothers him that you come home, greet him and go to your room. He can’t admit that he’s lonely again, and that he misses when you would talk to him late at night about your dreams, inspirations, aspirations, goals or even just your shopping list.

And most of all, he hates that you have him listening to love songs. He never used to listen to love songs on purpose, let alone with someone in mind. Love songs have plagued his playlists, and he dreads the day that spotify wraps up his year into one big lovefest. You were sea, sunshine, star and moon; you were his cocoa butter kisses; you were what comes up in his mind when he listens to Daniel Caesar, Frank Ocean and even Drake. You were his in his mind, his playlist, his heart but not his in real life.

He started doing his work in the living room just to see your face, to see you in the kitchen, on the couch or even leaving for school or work or to your boyfriend’s house, because the longer you were with Woozi, the shorter you were in the house.

That was until one day when he came home from work. The world seemed to mirror the same sad mood he’s been in for the past month; heavy rain, grey skies, cold air. It was the kind of weather that made him feel even more lonelier than he already was. He was just about to pass the living room to go to his room when he noticed you asleep on the sofa.

You looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to move, afraid that even the smallest step could wake you up from your slumber. He stood there for what felt like hours but were only a couple of seconds when he was suddenly snapped back to reality with a cold rush of air down his spine. The room was getting colder, he noticed, and he saw you rustling around the couch–no doubt affected by the coolness too.

He saw that your shoulder was exposed to the cool air and quickly but quietly rushed to get a blanket. He placed the blanket over your body, gently tucking the ends to your sides, effectively blocking any coldness from reaching your skin. He froze as you moved, thinking you had woken up, but sighed as he saw you snuggling into the warm comfort of the blanket, continuing your peaceful nap.

He cleaned the area around you, the tissues, empty soda cans, empty chips. You must’ve eaten yourself into a food coma, he thought, smiling at the thought of your well fed self falling into a deep sleep. However his smile dropped as your phone lights up. Rows and rows of notifications piled up on your lockscreen, all from your boyfriend begging you to ‘take him back’, ‘forgive him’, ‘trust him to do better’. And then it made sense to him. The food, the tissues, your exhaustion.

Once he finished cleaning up, he just couldn’t find himself to leave you in the living room all alone. You must have been sad, angry, upset, tired and vulnerable right now, and he would hate himself if he knew he was leaving you in such a state.

He also couldn’t get over the last notification he saw from your phone–he knows that it wasn’t the best thing to go scroll your notifications, but it was there and he couldn’t help it (pls forgive him)-- ‘I can be better than him’.

Him?

Is there someone new?

He sat on the ottoman, beside where your head was laying on the pillow and watched as you breathed. Your chest would rise and fall in steady patterns, showing that you’ve fallen into a deep sleep. Your eyelashes were feathered along your eye, and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it. Him, charmed by the simple sight of eyelashes? He couldn’t believe how much he changed, how much you changed him. Your lips were slightly parted, a pale pink and full. He wondered how it would feel against his own, would they be soft? By the looks of it, he thinks it would.

You looked so peaceful and angelic and he couldn’t help but think about how much you’re going through right now. He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his?

He knows that you had a boyfriend but still, despite that, why did you stop talking to him as much? You used to be texting him all the time, checking on him all the time, staying up with him all the time. But recently, your interactions were shorter than two sentences. Was it your boyfriend? Was it you? Was it him?

“If you let me,” he whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear gently, “we could paint a perfect picture, we could even last forever.” he sighed as he feels how strong he loves you–it scares him, he’s never felt this way with anyone before. “I’ll even let you wear my sweaters, I know how you get cold so easily,” he said as his eyes traced your face, from your hairline down to your eyebrows to your eyes, to your nose to your lips. He smiled at how perfect you were. “I’m so horribly down for you, Y/N,” he said, “for the worse or the better,” he added.

“To be honest, I hate it,” he said, surprising himself with the sudden confession, “I hate how much I feel for you because It’s so strong that it’s hurting me. But I don’t care, I will keep sticking to you, Y/n,” he breathed in, “Because I love you.”

And although you were sound asleep, he still felt as if the weight of the world has left his shoulders. The burden of keeping it trapped within his heart has finally disappeared, and even though he knew that this confession was done in vain as he knew that pouring his heart out doesn’t mean you have to reciprocate it, he still felt happy that it’s out there.

Maybe you were asleep, but your heart was listening.

He noticed how the sun had disappeared and the clock was moving into the double digits. He knew that your back was going to be painful if you slept there overnight, so he took you in his arms, the blanket wrapped tightly around you still; like a burrito, and carried you over to your room. There he tucked you in properly, propping your head gently a top your soft pillows, laying the comforter over your, keeping the sides snug. Before he turned off the side lamp, his self control had left his body with his confession as he bent down placing a gentle peck on your forehead. When he felt that everything was done, windows checked, you tucked in, lamp turned off, he headed out the door.

“Jeonghan,” you called softly, your voice still groggy from your nap. He froze by the doorframe, turning to you.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too,” you told him, a soft smile growing on your face before you turned over and fell back to sleep.

No amount of self control could stop the smile that was blooming on his face, his mind was fuzzy, his heart was racing. He watched you for a little bit more, the same love-struck smile on his face to see if you were still sleeping.

“Sweet dreams, love,” he whispered before leaving.

He needs to give Seungkwan a gift basket.

-fin.

Like, comment and reblog pls :)

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inoreuct · 6 months

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zosan with abba's super trouper.

is this essentially a pop star au? yes. bear with me anyway.

so the entire vinsmoke family are pop stars and they're perfect in the public eye but actually toxic as HELL, and sanji's sick and tired of it— so he breaks away from them and joins another agency, and zoro's assigned as his bodyguard.

they fight SO MUCH at first. i'm talking screaming and yelling and throwing things across the room (mostly sanji) and being stubborn and straight-up refusing to talk after a certain point (also mostly sanji) and then apologising with food and gifts and not words (mostly, well, both of them). they're like flint and steel; putting them together is just asking for trouble, but the years pass, and somehow through the endless bickering they end up best friends. who would've thought? their sharp edges have softened just enough and they're both too old and too tired and too busy to have cold wars anymore. they know more about each other than perhaps anyone else, and they care.

(they're also both in love and refuse to admit it. idiots.)

and then sanji goes on tour, and zoro has to leave for a training refresher course thing, and sanji's MISERABLE. luffy's with him as a bodyguard instead and it's fine, he's great, sanji loves him— just not the way he loves zoro. he feels fucking homesick in a way he never has because he's never really had a proper home and he knows, he knows it's because zoro isn't here with him. sanji turns around to tell him something and is met with empty air. he keeps trying to order double portions of food and booze before he catches himself and maybe he's being dramatic, but it feels like he's missing a fucking limb.

nami, his manager, has to yell at him to stop moping because all he's doing is eating chocolate and binging french soap operas in his hotel room and huddling up in the big leather jacket that zoro left behind. he just wants to get back to his tiny apartment and curl up on his shitty couch to eat pizza and watch Mean Girls for the hundredth time as zoro complains and gets invested in the drama all over again anyway.

he's nearly dead on his feet as finishes yet another exhausting show, trying to take comfort in the fact that it's his second last; his shoes are kicked off to the corner, his makeup barely removed, and just when he's about to turn in for the night his phone rings and when he sees the caller ID he SCRAMBLES to pick up.

"hey," zoro says, low and rumbly and so achingly familiar that sanji doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice," he breathes, and he means it. he means it more than he even knew he did and it hits him all at once as soon as the words leave his mouth. he misses his best friend, no matter everything else that zoro is to him.

zoro's chuckle is a balm to his soul. "i'm coming to see you tomorrow."

sanji sits bolt upright from where he'd been laid back against the pillows, eyes going wide. "are you serious?" he can't help the hope and excitement that unspools in his gut, the warm rush in his blood as zoro laughs.

"yeah. i'm done with the course. speedran the fucking thing and scored so well they had no choice but to let me go. couldn't miss the last chance i had to see you on tour, could i?" sanji can hear his grin through the phone. "i'm flying in tomorrow morning."

"i'll come pick you up from the airport."

"like hell you will," zoro retorts immediately. "you have a press conference at ten."

shit, he'd forgotten about that. "how'd you know, huh?" sanji counters, faux-petty and reclining back against his plush bedding. god, if there was one good thing about being on tour, it was the fancy hotels.

"been talking to nami," comes the reply, amused and teasing, and sanji groans. "what's this i hear about you acting like a widowed husband?"

"you fucking wish, you moron," he snaps, curling up on his side and hugging a pillow to his chest. the bed is awfully big and awfully cold.

zoro sighs, and there's the sound of something zipping up briskly. "missed you too, curls. look, listen— i gotta get to the airport. see you tomorrow night?"

"...yeah," sanji says, because there's so much he wants to tell zoro and no idea how. he doesn't know where he'd start. he doesn't even know what he wants to say. "yeah, i'll see you. you'll be in the crowd, right?"

"mhm," zoro confirms, accompanied by what sounds like the chirp of an electronic lock. "you just sit tight, curly. i'm coming home."

they exchange a few more words before the line cuts off, but sanji's mind is stuck on three specific words and the possible space for three more after. i'm coming home. but he isn't home right now; he's in a foreign country, in a bed that isn't his, and zoro's flying to him. this isn't home to either of them. unless... and that silence afterwards, like zoro had wanted to say something that would have fit right in. something that would have been a natural end to that string of syllables.

sanji takes a deep breath and does his best to push all thoughts of i love you, spoken or not, to the back of his mind.

still, he can't help but let it all boost him up like a buoy bobbing merrily on the sea. one call from zoro, one short conversation, and he's fucking effervescent; he wakes up smiling and breezes through the press conference with effortless charm. he's bouncing on the toes of his heeled boots even before he steps onto the stage, thrilled by the thought of zoro being in the audience. thousands of eyes on him, thousands of people screaming his name, and he only cares about one. he takes a deep breath as the lights change and the platform he's on begins to rise, fingers tightening around his mic. it's his last night here. he's doing it all for zoro.

it turns out to be the best performance of his life, if he does say so himself. he powers through the entire two hours with ease and hits every note perfectly. he enjoys himself for the first time in a long time, soaks up the glitter and glamour and blinding lights, lets the atmosphere wrap him up and tousle his hair, and he wonders just how it's possible that one person's presence could change so much.

(he doesn't need to wonder. he already knows.)

when he says his final goodbyes for the night he's breathless, heart pounding, anticipatory. the hands patting at his back in congratulation backstage are superficial compared to who he knows is here, and he spares nami a few seconds for a rare squeeze, pausing for a few more when she whispers i'm proud of you in his ear.

and then sanji sees him, and nothing, nothing else fucking matters.

he sprints forward and they crash together and something slams into place inside of him. zoro sweeps him off his feet, squeezing him tight enough that he laughs, bright and merry and real as they spin around and around and he's so dizzy when he's set back down, light-headed and his heart full. he doesn't care where he is, he's home.

zoro takes his weight as easily as anything, tucking sanji to his chest. "god, fuck, you were amazing up there," he says breathlessly, the words pressed into sanji's bejewelled hair. "you were incredible."

the words rumble through his chest and sanji clings tighter, holding zoro desperately around the waist and taking in deep lungfuls of laundry detergent and the fancy pine-and-sandalwood body wash he'd given zoro for christmas. "you're here."

"'course i am," zoro replies, matter-of-fact. "said i'd be here, so i'm here."

his earrings press against sanji's cheek. "can we go get pizza?" he asks meekly.

zoro's answering laugh pours into the horrible aching pit that's been gnawing away at him, fills it up with liquid sunlight as he answers, "we can do whatever the hell you want."

they get pizza. sanji lets zoro pull him around town swearing at the Google Maps on his phone before he finally takes pity and steers them towards the little pizzeria he'd found when he'd snuck out with luffy on their first night here. the tongue-lashing from nami had been worth it, but even so the experience back then had been dull. muted, at best.

now it's like he's seeing the whole world through a whole different lens; the fluorescent sign in the window beams charmingly as the bell above the door chimes, and sanji doesn't even care about the raised eyebrow zoro gives him when he wiggles into the booth seat with undisguised glee. between them they put away a large four-cheese pizza and a frankly massive slice of apple pie à la mode, and sanji's feeling pleasantly stuffed as he finishes up his vanilla milkshake and successfully fends zoro off from stealing sips when he isn't looking. he has plenty of experience with that, after all.

the walk back is filled with comfortable silence. sanji doesn't need anything else— zoro here with him is more than he could ask for. scary dog privilege aside, the man next to him is sanji's best friend, and he loves zoro more than he can, or will, ever say.

zoro drops him off at his room and hugs him goodnight. sanji strips down, blasts the shower as hot as it can go, and scrubs the gel out of his hair along with any of the remaining dregs of emptiness he resolutely tells himself are not there right down the drain.

it can't stop him from thinking, though. of zoro. of compression shirts and cargo pants and worn black boots. of the nights zoro had taught him self-defense and the time sanji nearly broken his jaw with a roundhouse kick neither of them had known he was capable of; the other had grinned up with him with blood all over his teeth, proud and raring to go, barking again! and sanji had glowed. his mind swims with it all even as he towels off and slips into his silk pyjamas— memories of late-night talks with wine and beer, sometimes tea, quips all around, beds shared back-to-back under unspoken agreements when neither of them wanted to sleep alone.

three knocks sound on his door.

sanji hates the way he rushes to the peephole and yanks it open as soon as he confirms who it is. zoro stands there, one hand on the back of his neck, looking bored yet unsettled in his baggy tee with his damp hair sticking up everywhere. "jetlag?" sanji asks, raising an eyebrow as zoro grunts.

"you could say that."

he steps aside in a silent invitation, and zoro looks around as he goes in. sanji topples onto the bed with a sigh of relief and crawls under the blankets, patting the space beside him as he switches on the television. "mean girls?"

"god, i fucking hate you," zoro groans, but he settles in anyways, and sanji grins triumphantly.

it's still not his apartment or his shitty couch— but zoro's here, so it's the next best thing.

they make it through the movie without incident. zoro parrots the dialogue and cheers when regina gets hit by the bus like he does without fail every time. sanji knees him in the thigh for it with a scowl like he always does and it starts a fierce kicking battle under the sheets that results in zoro dangling half off the mattress and sanji laughing so hard he can't breathe.

when they've mostly calmed down, sanji sighs out one final chuckle and sinks back into the pillows. "think you can fall asleep now?" he murmurs, turning to look at where zoro has his head propped in one hand.

"maybe," the other allows, and sanji swallows before he smiles.

"goodnight, marimo."

"goodnight."

the flick of the light switch feels like finality. in regards to what, sanji doesn't know, but now that they're in the darkness and zoro begins to get comfortable behind him he cannot deny that he wants.

he wants those arms around him. wants to sleep even better than he does when they're back to back, wants to fit within the circle of zoro's embrace like he belongs there. wants to belong there. wants zoro as his best friend and everything more. it manifests as a tight ache in the centre of his chest, a knot around his heart that he knows he cannot untangle by himself. sanji curls up into a ball and hugs a pillow to his chest, biting his lip— because zoro is right next to him instead of thousands of miles away, and he's still untouchable all the same.

he's on the cusp of restless sleep when he feels zoro shift, and he prays that the hitch in his breath is unnoticeable. he forces the rise and fall of his chest to stay even as the blankets are smoothed securely around his shoulders, a callused palm brushing his hair away from his face; a soft kiss is pressed to his forehead, a hand cupping his face tenderly and trailing away with the brush of a thumb over his cheekbone. "sweet dreams, curls," zoro whispers, before light cracks in from the hallway as his room door opens and shuts.

the electronic lock beeps, and sanji's eyes fly open. the white ceiling swims as he stares at it, unseeing, and the sheets on the right side of the bed are still warm. there's an indent where zoro's body was and sanji gasps as he drags himself into it, huddling down and pulling the covers over his head until all he can smell is zoro.

his heart stutters, mind racing, fingers tightening in the plush duvet. he's confused, so confused. hopeful. a little mad, if he's being honest, and his next breath trembles out of his lungs. mostly still confused, though, because what the fuck did that mean?

he'll find out, he swears. he will. he'll storm his way to zoro's room and break the damn door down if he has to. but for now, if he hides for a little while until he stops feeling like he's about to cry—

well, that's a secret for his hotel room to keep.

#inspired by @bidisastersanji’s zosan lay all your love on me post #lemme know if yall want me to continue this #actually please ask me to continue it i’m already working on the next part LMAOOO #THEY’LL SORT THEIR SHIT OUT BY THEN I PROMISE #zosan #zoro x sanji #op zosan #zosan au #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #op zoro #roronoa zoro #op sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #sanji #zoro #ino writes

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spacecowboyhotch · 3 months

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In Plain Sight: Tiana

summary: nathan does his best to support you.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader, f!reader’s mother (Tiana)

contents: this entire series is 18+, sick parent, parent death, grief, panic attacks, existential crisis, support!nathan

wc: 1,360

an: this one is a bit heavy so do heed the warnings. we also jump around in the timeline so it is important to have read previous parts or it won’t make much sense. be gentle with yourselves on this one

in plain sight masterlist | TIONB | planted | little hamlet

3 Weeks before To Atomize*

The day you told your mother about Nathan was one of her last good days. Many, many bad days came after. Celia— her nurse— sent you the usual report before you left to go home. It said that your mother had slept most of the day and gotten a burst of energy.

When you got home that day, she was propped up, watching some soap opera with mild interest. Seeing her genuine smile when you walked through the door had made your heart flutter.

You made her favorite tea, and brought a book to read though you really had wanted to talk to her, not at her. With working, taking care of your sisters, and her health you found that you didn’t get to do that much anymore. Talk with your mother, hearing her thoughts and opinions, her praises and suggestions. Feeling her intentional love. You crave it.

“Have you told your sisters?”

“No— I will. I wanted to tell you first.”

Her brows raise and teasingly she murmurs, “You’re serious about him.”

“I am,” You say through a laugh.

Her smile is so warm, like the sun, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You love him.”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“But you could?”

“I could.”

“Don’t be afraid to.”

“That’s easier said than done, mama.”

She sighs patiently, shifting more on her side so that she can look directly at you, “Does he love you?”

You grow warm under her serious gaze. You don’t particularly like thinking about Nathan feeling more deeply for you. He’s assured you that he’s in this for the long haul— that he’s ‘spoken for’ but words and actions are very different things. He hasn’t done anything to show he words aren’t true…yet. “I think so. He acts like it.”

“Then let him.”

“Mama—“

“When you find a man that treats you the way you’re meant to be treated, you can’t be scared, darling.”

“But it’s scary.”

“You’ve done so many scary things in your life. You’ve watched my health fluctuate with a brave face. You’ve raised those girls out there. And now you’re on the cusp of falling in love. A beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. Everything will work out how it’s meant to.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. Isn’t that more reason to grasp it while you can?”

“I don’t know mama, this is all so existential.”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything, mama.”

“Promise me you won’t waste the time. If you want him, if you love him, then don’t waste any time. When the time comes, let yourself as openly and honestly as you possible can. Promise me?”

“I promise.”

—

Present Day (5 months after Family Dinner)

“Honey?”

Nathan’s voice pulls you out of the haze that you seem to always be slipping into now that your mother is gone. It’s hard, not wanting to escape into memories so that it feels like she’s here.

You give him a wane smile, “Hey.”

“I’ve been calling you,” He says softly, sliding onto the couch beside you.

You sigh, shaking your head a little as if that’ll clear the fog, a task that you imagine will take years. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s alright,” He assures you, draping an arm behind you on the couch. His brows are pinched with worry— an emotion you’re still trying to get used to seeing on his face.

You sit up on the edge of the couch abruptly, looking around. Where’s your phone? Your laptop? “Wait, what time is it?”

“Almost 4.”

“I wasted my entire day here?”

“You didn’t waste it. You said you wanted some space, I gave it to you.”

“But this is the only day of the week that I stay this long anymore. You didn’t have to give me that much space.”

“There’s next week and the week after that…and the week after that. I could keep going but I hope you’re understanding our situation here,” He teases gently, running his hand over your back.

You lean out of his comforting touch, feeling guilty. “It’s not, I should be cherishing my time with you. Who knows when—“

He cuts you off immediately. He’s had this conversation with you multiple times since your mother’s passing. He doesn’t want you to focus on him— but on yourself and your sisters, on getting you all through this. “Hey, uh uh, don’t do that. Don’t go there.”

You’re already there. You’ve been there for weeks now. All you can think about is life slipping out of your grasp. Of not having the words or the feelings to make the time dwindling in front of you feel like it's enough. Your chest feels tight, and you scoot further away from him trying to keep yourself centered. Its futile attempt, everything’s all out of whack, you can’t find your balance, your emotions sway and crash around you unpredictably like the waves of a seastorm.

“But, it’s true. I could lose you today or tomorrow. I could lose you right now, you could have some fucked up brain vessel or something. You could choke o-or fall o-or– and Philippa, Emma–”

He cups your hands in his chest, brown eyes soft and desperate as he tries to calm you down. “Honey. I need you to take it down a notch and breathe, you’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.”

“I don’t— I can’t—“ You gulp frantically, feeling your breath grow shallow.

“She was sick,” He whispers, pulling you flush to his chest. “She was sick, sweetheart, there was nothing to be done. I’m healthy, I’m here— so are your sisters. We can get them check ups every month, get them checked out by oncologists as much as you want. Whatever you need to make you feel alright.”

“I feel like I’m going insane. How can having less to do and worry about make me insane?” You say through tears.

Nathan hates seeing you like this. He’s never hated anything more than seeing you in pain. He wishes he could take it away— he would do anything, pay any amount of money, invent any program if it meant that you could have some reprieve.

“Stop. You’re not insane, you’re grieving. Studies say there’s no right way— trust me I’ve looked high and fucking low for a methodology— but you’ve gotta take it as it comes, sweetheart. I’ll be here, right beside you the whole time.”

You’re quiet for a long time, letting Nathan hold you. He rocks you side to side, brushing soft, tickling kisses across your temple and forehead. You focus on the rise and fall of his chest, allowing your breathing to mimic his own. He’s warm and solid against you. He’s right here. Living and breathing and talking right beside you. He’s right here.

Finally you say, “I don’t want to take it as it comes. I want to feel okay again.”

“If I could make it so baby, I would,” He whispers, squeezing you a little tighter.

“I know. I’m sorry. Thank you Nathan.”

He cups your face, guiding your gaze to his own– its unyielding and firm. No nonsense. “You don’t apologize to me, alright? Ever.

He’s been more like that since your mom’s passing. More directive and firm, guiding and caring for you in ways that were necessary before. It’s exactly what you need right now. And sometimes, it has those butterflies settling in your stomach and heat simmering in your veins.

You refocus on him where your gaze had gone a little blurry. “Not even if I accidentally knee you in the nuts?”

Nathan pretends to consider your ridiculous question. “I shouldn’t have had my nuts where your knees are.”

“You may be the closest specimen to a perfect man.”

“I mean it honey, don’t apologize to me for this. I won’t accept it and I’ll yell you every single time.”

You raise a brow at him, “Yell?”

“Yell.”

“You’ve never yelled at me, not even when you were just my boss.”

“Maybe I’m exaggerating,” He allows, grinning at you mischievously.

“You are.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

“Trying to keep me guessing?”

He presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, and then another and another, addicted. “Always, baby.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman fanfiction #nathan bateman #ex machina fanfiction #ex machina #in plain sight #not sfw #arson writes

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shuttershocky · 9 months

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I like how Waai Fu's story arc went, and thought it was especially cool how they contrasted her journey with both Du Yaoye's, and her own father Huai Tianpei's.

In Invitation to Wine, Du was a spoiled rich girl trying to escape the shadow of her father, wanting to become a warrior while he set up a successful inn and restaurant business for her to inherit, since she believed her father turned his back on the martial arts out of believing his daughter shouldn't be a fighter. What Du didn't know was what made Zheng leave the bodyguard business was him failing to protect one of his new recruits during a terrible mission, and realizing he had to go to the recruit's father and tell him his son died in battle protecting a stupid goblet that they didn't even manage to secure. Zheng didn't want that kind of violent, heartbreaking life for his daughter, and so he pivoted to the restaurant business instead. This is why Du left Shangshu for Yumen, as she still refuses to leave the path of a martial artist and set out for a new city to make her fortune doing her dad's old job.

But while she complains about all of this to Waai Fu, Fu can't help but muse that even if Du's father was overbearing, he did what he did out of love for her. Her own father ditched her to go on a kung fu journey and never looked back, focusing only on becoming the best kung fu master in Yan and leaving Waai Fu to grow up without him. For Fu, having a dad like Zheng would have been much more preferable. Even if the path Zheng wants for Du is not what she wants for herself, at least he thinks about her, and lets her go her own way. Even if she's annoyed with her father, she still loves him, seen when she mistakenly assumes Waai Fu is still rooting for Huai Tianpei in his duel vs Chongyue, because obviously you'd still be cheering for your dad right?

There's quite a few details about Waai Fu's issues with Huai Tianpei. For example, whenever she watched TV at home, Hung or Mr. Lee would quietly change the channel any time a soap opera involved a child meeting their missing father. Lee is also concerned about Waai Fu losing her way and becoming too obsessed with a deadbeat that abandoned her and never even visited in ten whole years.

I liked that even after Tianpei saved her life by fighting a literal nature god for her, Fu thanks him for the rescue as is proper, but still immediately challenges him to a duel anyways. It's not going to be that clean, convenient story where Tianpei does one good thing and that somehow makes up for a decade of neglect.

Fu loses the duel. It's to be expected, as Tianpei has been training in kung fu for 40 years and has never lost to anyone, but despite that, Fu's satisfied. She managed to finally kick him right in the jaw as payback, and for her to be able to land blows on a master who's been training for longer than she's even been alive makes her confident the gap between them isn't impossible.

Eventually, she may surpass him, and even then, she doesn't have to. In the ten years since he left, she graduated magna cum laude in mechanical engineering, got a job at Rhodes Island, became a detective with her fellow strays in Lee's Detective Agency, she has a whole other life outside of the only thing her father cares about, and even then she's still on track to defeating him. She doesn't need him, and she doesn't need his respect, what with having her own life and family now. She just really, really wanted the opportunity to break his jaw, and she got it.

As a bonus, she also got to see Tianpei challenge Chongyue, First Under Heaven, immortal god, and the guy that literally created half of kung fu, and watch her dad get his ass kicked. Tianpei finally manages to find an opponent that even he can't defeat, and Chongyue is delighted to see that there's a mortal warrior so dedicated that someone finally managed to get the upper hand on him (momentarily) after centuries. It will take 360 more years of training for Tianpei to be able to surpass Chongyue, three centuries that he doesn't have (tigers don't live that long). It will take MUCH less time for Waai Fu however, to eventually catch up to him, though she may not even have to anymore.

In the end, Waai Fu is satisfied. And even when Tianpei leaves once again without saying a word, it doesn't bother her. She helped save the city, got to fight a god, got to punch and kick her deadbeat father, got to see another god demolish her deadbeat father, and now she can go home a hero with her real dad, the shady fish conman detective.

#Arknights spoilers

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pascallftv · 1 year

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Dad’s Best Friend (Pedro Pascal x Reader)

summary: as a retreat from your busy work life, you decide to stay with your dad and his best friend for a few days over the holidays. to your surprise, your dad’s best friend is much hotter than you anticipated. one night after the three of you play a drinking game, pedro waits until your father goes to sleep to make his move on you.

warnings: SMUT! oral (m & f receiving), edging, dom!pedro, dirty talk, some choking, rough unprotected sex, anal play

MY MASTERLIST

You never thought you’d be this excited to be back home. Since you’d moved to California, you had constantly been overwhelmed with work. You were thoroughly exhausted, and a short vacation back home was just what you needed to recharge your battery. As much as you loved the fast pace west coast lifestyle, you longed for the quiet of the midwest. You grew up in a rural area in the midwest, but moved to the city when you were a teenager after your parents split. Now your mother was off in Europe with a much younger man, and your father lived with his best friend in a quaint town house. Your dad had always sworn that if he never found his soulmate, he’d move in with his best friend, so that’s exactly what he did.

Your dad moved in with his best friend Pedro a couple years ago when they both decided they were tired of searching for replacement wives. You’d never met Pedro before, and had only heard stories about him through your father, and from what you could tell, he was a bit of a man whore. After him and his wife divorced, he fell into a routine of bringing home different women each weekend. When they moved in together, his habits didn’t change; your father said he’s sure there’s a mini Pedro running around somewhere that he doesn’t know about. Pedro wasn’t interested in dating, let alone having children. So at the age of forty-seven, he was living with your father with the tendencies of a horny, college boy.

You were sitting comfortably on the sofa of your dad’s living room with some sort of soap opera playing on the tv. You hadn’t realized you were zoned out until the front door swung open, and Pedro marched through the door, holding two handles of liquor. A wide grin was plastered on his face as he scanned his eyes around the house for your dad, but instead his eyes landed on you.

“I didn’t know you were here already.” Pedro said, setting the bottles of alcohol on the dining room table, his eyes still locked on you. You sent him a lazy smile.

“Got here this morning.”

“Well, I came prepared.” Pedro winked, gesturing towards the bottles on the table. “Figured we could play some drinking games to get to know each other better, maybe watch a movie or two.”

You simply smiled again. He was much more attractive than you’d imagined. You’d only seen fuzzy pictures of him on your father’s Facebook, and those did not do him justice whatsoever. No wonder he was pulling so many women.

Fast forward to that evening, and the three of you were sitting at the dining room table with a deck of cards playing ‘bullshit’. However, every-time someone lost, they had to drink. You were already pretty far gone, and your dad and Pedro weren’t far behind you. Your cheeks were red hot and sore from laughing, and the alcohol was only amplifying the heat in your body. You kept catching yourself gazing over at Pedro. You couldn’t help but admire his smile and laugh, it was intoxicating. You were convinced he would be an arrogant prick, but he was truly a pleasant person to be around. You couldn’t tell if you were only imagining things, but you could’ve sworn you kept catching Pedro staring at you too.

“You’re fucking cheating!” Your dad exclaimed, throwing his cards down on the table. Pedro was laughing uncontrollably.

“No, you just fucking suck at lying.” Pedro proclaimed through his laughter. He was absolutely kicking your asses at this card game.

“That’s it, I’m going to bed. I’m too old for this shit.” Your dad surrendered, running his hand down his face. He stood up from his chair and stumbled over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Goodnight, kiddo. Love you bunches.” He slurred, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll see y’all in the morning.”

Your dad saluted you and Pedro and stumbled his way to the stairs and out of sight to his bedroom. You bit your lip and smiled over at Pedro who was sporting an amused smirk.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not tired yet.” Pedro declared, stacking up all the cards scattered across the table. You handed him your cards and sighed.

“Me either, my body clock is two hours behind.” You said, leaning back in your chair.

“Want to watch a movie? Maybe the Hangover?” Pedro suggested, standing up from his spot at the table. His jeans were tight against his thighs, his button up shirt riding up slightly exposing his happy trail. You gulped, averting your eyes before you looked too long. But Pedro had already caught you staring, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Sure.” You said, following him to the living room.

Pedro sat on the middle cushion, giving you only two options to sit, and either way you’d be almost touching. You sat down beside him, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to lay over both of your laps. You stared at Pedro’s hands as he flipped through the tv settings to find whichever streaming service he was searching for. There was something so attractive about his hands, and your mind began to wander down a dangerous path. You envisioned his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing at the sides of it. You swallowed hard, pressing your thighs together and the sudden heat growing between them. Little did you know, Pedro noticed your body language. He could feel the attraction radiating off of you. You were so fucking gorgeous, and here you were squeezing your thighs together in arousal all because of him simply existing.

He pressed play on The Hangover, setting the remote down on the coffee table in front of you. He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head, and coming down to rest an arm behind your head. Such a cliche move, but somehow it affected you like you were a teenager again. Your heart was thumping against your chest so loudly that you swore he could hear it. You hadn’t realized you were so fucking touch deprived that you were desperate for you father’s best friend. Your thoughts were running wild again, and you fantasized about Pedro bending you over the dining room table. You pictured his hand running up the bare flesh on your ass, spreading your cheeks in front of his eyes so he could admire your holes that were desperate for him touch. You yearned for him to fuck you senseless, making you scream his name, hoping your father wouldn’t hear.

You were already drenched under your shorts. Your core was lit on fire, throbbing so hard that it was painful. Pedro side eyed you. You wouldn’t stop fidgeting; you kept adjusting your legs, and you were playing with your fingers in your lap trying to distract yourself from the longing between your thighs. He smirked. He loved the effect he had on you. He didn’t even have to try and you were an aroused little mess beside him. He slowly moved his arm from behind your head to rest on his thigh. He slowly tapped his forefinger, deciding whether or not he should act on his desires. You were his best friend’s daughter. He wanted more than anything to bend you over the couch and slam into you until you were drenching his cock, but every alarm was going off in his head. Did he want to risk losing his best friend over a fuck? There was something so intoxicating about you, and it frustrated the hell out of him. There were so many women on the back burner that would throw themselves at him, yet he wanted you. Perhaps it was the thrill of the chase.

He felt himself hardening in his jeans. He cleared his throat, his hand sliding underneath the blanket, resting half on his thigh, and half on the hot, supple skin of yours. Your skin was so fucking soft. Slowly, he moved his hand to fully rest on your thigh, giving it such a light squeeze that you thought you imagined it. If your heart was ready to thump out of your chest before, you were nearly about to have a heart attack now. His thumb began massaging slow circles in your thigh, traveling dangerously close to where you were craving him the most. You began breathing harder, turning your head to look up at him. He stared back at you, his brown eyes full of lust. Your eyes traveled down to his mustache, then to his pouted lips. It was as if a magnet was pulling you towards him, and your eyes fell to his lips, getting closer and closer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pedro whispered, his gaze focused on your parted lips. He squeezed your thigh harder this time, resting inches away from your core.

You say nothing and move even closer to him, your lips millimeters from touching. You could feel his hot breath on your mouth.

“Touch me.” You breathed out so quietly that you weren’t sure he could hear you. You were proven wrong when his fingers traced along the crease of your tights, grazing over your crotch through your shorts. Pedro began breathing harder the closer his fingers got to your waistband. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, traveling down to your folds. You gasped when his fingers spread your folds, gathering up your juices.

“Such a dirty girl. Already so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Pedro teased, ghosting his fingers over your clit that was throbbing with sensitivity. You whimpered at the softest pressure he applied to your bundle of nerves. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, you needed to taste him. You closed the gap between your lips and kissed him hard, trying your best to communicate your lust through the rhythm of your kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his free hand moving to tug at the hair at the nape of your neck. You were driving him insane. He pulled away momentarily to stare at you with hungry eyes.

“Do you know how wrong this is? Kissing your daddy’s best friend while he’s asleep upstairs.” He growled, slamming his lips back into yours while simultaneously slamming two fingers into your entrance without warning. You couldn’t help but moan a little to loud at his intrusion. His hand left your hair to wrap around your throat with a tight squeeze. “Keep fucking quiet. Wouldn’t want your daddy to hear, now would we?”

Your hand traveled down to his hardening erection and grabbed it firmly over his jeans as he fucked you hard with his fingers, a low groan escaping his lips. His hot breath was becoming more frequent against your mouth. He pulled away suddenly, his hand still gripping your throat.

“Can you suck my cock like a good girl?” He muttered, his fingers leaving your hole. You frowned at the loss of contact, but felt yourself throb at the thought of tasting his cock in your mouth. You nodded quickly, moving to get on your knees between his legs. Pedro was panting, his belly rising and falling quickly under his shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans with ease, unzipping his fly slowly. He lifted his hips off the couch to slide his jeans down his thighs, his jeans falling to his ankles. His cock sprung free from his jeans with no underwear constricting his erection.

You leaned forward, taking his length in your soft hand, admiring his size and girth. Your mouth watered at the sight of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You ran your thumb over his arousal, wetting his sensitive tip. You locked eyes with him, lowering down to slowly take his cock in your mouth. You teased his leaky tip with your tongue, swirling it around so you could get a taste of him. Moaning at the salty taste coating your tongue, you gradually lowered your mouth onto his length, soaking him with the mixture of his pre-cum and your spit. His head fell back on the couch, his hand tangling itself in your hair. He whimpered quietly and you began to stroke your hand up and down the leftover shaft that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. With your free hand, you cupped his balls, massaging them in your palm.

“Fuck.” Pedro breathed, sucking in a harsh breath. He gripped the nape of your neck, squeezing with his fingertips. “Taking my cock so well.”

Your hand moved from his balls up to his abdomen, running your fingers across his happy trail. You lowered your mouth even further, filling your throat with the rest of his length. You bobbed your head, the only sounds in the room being the wet noises of you sucking his cock, and his shaky breaths. You moaned on his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch in your throat. You lifted your mouth off his length, bringing your hand to the ridge between his shaft and his tip, stroking in quick milking motions. His legs began to shake, and a low moan escaped his lips. He grabbed your hand, stopping your movements.

“F-fuck, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He mumbled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up off your knees. He stood up from the couch, pushing you to sit in his spot.

“Take off your clothes.” He ordered sternly, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. He quickly undid them while he watched you strip down to nothing. No panties, no bra. You drove him fucking wild. His cock twitched at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. He stripped his clothes off completely, kneeling where you just were.

“I’m going to taste you, then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t remember your name.” Pedro said, spreading your legs completely open. Cold air hit your folds, your arousal glistening before his eyes. “Look at you. So fucking wet for me.”

He lowered his mouth to your core, spreading your folds open with his fingers, thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. His other hand traveled to your clit, rubbing soft, quick circles into your sensitive nerves. You gasped, your hand landing in his hair. It took all of your will power to stay quiet. The last thing you needed was for your dad to walk down the stairs to his best friend eating you out.

Pedro thrusted three fingers into you, not allowing you time to stretch to the fullness before finger fucking you so hard and fast that you were seeing spots in your vision. You were so fucking full, but you wanted his cock more than anything. His tongue flicked over your clit, sucking on it lightly while his fingers slammed into you, curling perfectly to the rough surface of your g spot. You weren’t going to last much longer. You slapped a hand over your mouth and whined into your palm. You orgasm was so close.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered through your fingers, locking eyes with Pedro as he finger fucked the life out of you. Your legs were trembling, and your toes began to curl. You were seconds away from reaching your high when Pedro halted his actions, and pulled his fingers out of you. You wanted to cry; you were so fucking close it hurt.

“Did I say you could cum?” Pedro slowly rose from his knees, his hand wrapping it’s way back around your throat. He pressed his lips to yours in a hasty kiss. You whined into his kiss. He pulled away, taking your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “You’re going to cum around my cock like a good girl.”

His words went straight to your core. You were in pain. You needed release so badly. You didn’t have a moment to comprehend what was happening until Pedro slammed his cock into you, your walls spasming around his sudden intrusion. You cried out, grabbing his biceps to squeeze. You were full to the brim, and the oxygen completely left your lungs when you felt him hit your cervix from how deep he was inside of you. He slapped a hand over your mouth, his lips lowering to you ear.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking sound.” He growled, his fingers finding their way back to your clit. His fingers worked in fast circles, your eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusted in and out of you at an agonizingly fast pace, his tip hitting the deepest part of you over and over again. You orgasm was near, and it was coming fast. You entire body trembled, and you dug your fingernails into Pedro’s toned back. Your face fell into his neck, your teeth lightly biting the supple skin there to refrain from screaming out.

“Are you going to cum?” Pedro breathed out, gripping your hips as he pounded into you. You nodded vigorously into his neck, feeling your vision starting to leave completely. With the nod of your head, Pedro slipped his cock out of you, and his fingers abandoned your clit. Tears began brimming at your eyes. You felt yourself on the verge of a meltdown when Pedro kept you from your orgasm for a second time. Without warning, Pedro flipped you onto your stomach, your knees propped up on the couch cushion, and your arms gripping the back of the couch to steady yourself. He slammed back into you from behind, grabbing your hips for leverage. He didn’t care how loud your skin slapping together was. He knew how terrible the acoustics were in the house, and how thick the walls were. He’d fucked so many women in this house to the point of screaming and your father still never heard.

You cried out as he somehow hit you even deeper than before. Pedro wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. In that moment, the only things you knew were how deep he filled you, and how perfectly he bottomed out inside you. His balls slapped against your clit, adding to the euphoria you were experiencing. Your nails dug into the fabric of the couch so hard that you thought it was going to rip. Just when you thought you couldn’t be stimulated anymore, you felt Pedro’s forefinger tease your tightest hole. He brought his index finger to his mouth, sucking on it until it was coated with his spit, then brought it back down to your rim, pressing it slowly inside. You groaned out at the foreign sensation.

“You like that?” Pedro leaned down into your ear, his torso laying against the curve of your back and he filled both of your holes. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

You shook your head, lowering your head to bite down onto the back of the couch. You wanted to fucking scream. Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. The feeling intensified when Pedro added a second finger to your asshole, alternating between thrusts there and your pussy.

“Such a good girl.” He moaned out, slamming into you even faster than before.

Your body couldn’t take much more. Your body was trembling, and there was no way hon would survive if you were denied your orgasm for the third time. Your eyes rolled back in your head and a hand reached back to the thick flesh of your ass to spread your cheeks apart, hoping it would bring Pedro deeper.

“God, you’re such a slut.” Pedro growled, placing his hand back to your neck, choking you harder than before. He lowered his mouth to your back, pressing a kiss to your spine. “I need you to come for me.”

His permission was all you needed before you were cumming around his cock, your walls clenching down hard around him, bringing him closer to his orgasm. Your jaw went slack as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your entire body being set on fire. You’ve never came so hard in your life.

Pedro’s fingers left your asshole and he wrapped his arm around the soft flesh of your belly, continuing to fuck into you with all the energy he had left. Your walls were extremely tight from your orgasm, constricting intoxicatingly around his cock. He moaned as he reached his orgasm, coating your walls in thick spurts. He whimpered as he filled you full of his cum, both of his hands reaching around you to grab handfuls of your breasts, pinching your nipples as he came down from his high.

Your eyes were squeezed shut still recovering for your powerful orgasm. Your body went slack against the back of the couch as tried to recover.

“What’s your name?” Pedro asked breathlessly.

You didn’t answer. You’d heard him, but your mind was so far into the clouds that you didn’t comprehend his question. You chest heaved in heavy breaths.

Pedro chuckled, squeezing your tits once last time before pulling out of you. You whimpered at the feeling; you were way too fucking sensitive. He pressed a soft kiss to your ass as he left you alone to grab a towel to clean you up with. You were still coming down from your high when he returned with a damp towel, and began gently wiping up his seed that spilled from your entrance. You trembled as he touched your sensitive folds, and you whined out.

“Shhhh, almost done.” He whispered, holding the towel there for a moment longer.

When he finished cleaning you up, he lifted you up and sat you down on the couch facing him. He picked up your shorts and helped slide them up over your soft legs, then lifted your arms to put on your sweatshirt. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead then lazily dressed himself, not bothering to button his pants or shirt.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He said softly, picking you up. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you up the stairs, your eyes heavy with exhaustion.

He carried you to the guest bedroom, and held you up expertly with one arm while he pulled back the covers so you wouldn’t be laying on top of the sheets. He carefully laid you onto the mattress, tucking you in under the covers. He couldn’t get over how blissful you looked. Your cheeks were bright pink, and your lips were swollen and plump. He bent down and kissed you one last time before leaving you alone in the guest bedroom. You drifted off to sleep before you could even realize he was gone. Before you knew it, you were waking up the next morning with soreness between your legs and a longing for your father’s best friend.

#pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #javier pena narcos #din djarin #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction

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igotanidea · 8 months

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Laugh: Jason Todd x fem!reader

requested by @thefandomdiaries07 - I AM SO SORRY!!

“Oh my god!” Y/N started laughing at another Bad dad joke Dick Just Said. Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether it made her giggle like a silly teenager because it was so stupid or because Dick was ginning and being so full of himself.

“That’s a good one right?”

“No....!” she gasped wiping the tears away, smudging her mascara in the process. “It was terrible. Terrible, Grayson! I swear every time I believe you reached the bottom of the groaner well, you surprise me with another one!”

“Now that’s hurtful!” Dick grabbed his heart, pretending to be deeply cut by those words. “Your words are like knife to my soul!”

“Please stop watching soap operas….” She laughed even more at his choice of words.

“Hm.” Dick smirked. The position he was in allowed him to see behind Y/N’s shoulder and notice something she could not.

Once her laugh reverberated through the room in the Manor, Jason, who was just casually passing by, with his signature face expression being the mix of broody and smug, stopped in his tracks. To give it justice, he looked like he was just struck by the lighting by the sound. Rooted to the ground. Frozen. Transfixed. Taken into another dimension. Whatever words might come to person’s brain �� he was just that. With his eyes almost turning into hearts he looked like a love sick puppy. Just because he heard her chuckling at something.

“Hey Jaybrid!” Dick called to his younger brother, unable to stop himself from a little bit of teasing. Todd might have been lying about how he felt for Y/N, denying the obvious, but his actions were pretty self-explanatory. Especially in the family of self-appointed detectives, trained to read into every detail and gesture. “You look surprisingly non-threatening.”

“Shut up Dickhead.” His face expression turned back to resentful, the slightest blush showing on his cheeks due to being called out like this. He was a grown ass man acting like a boy who saw a girl’s bra for the first time.

“What’s with the attitude, little bird? Someone step on your toe?”

“Shut up!”

“Oh come on, cheer up! How about I give you a joke to relieve the tension?”

“Oh, no!” Y/N cried out in despair, turning to face Jason “Jace! Save me! Dick won’t let me go until I die from the embarrassment from his jokes! Please, don’t let me suffer alone!”

Once she looked at him with those pretty, pretty, shining, smiling e/c eyes he was gone. Like gone. How could he possibly tell no to her? How could he…..

“Not in the mood…” he muttered, looking down, terrified to death to meet her gaze.

“Come on Jay! Pretty please? We’re friends. It’s kind of I’m in shit you’re in shit situation. You can’t run from it.”

“I hate you.” He hissed crossing his arms

“I give you a chance to realize that you hate Dick’s sense of humor more than you hate me. So? what’s it gonna be?”

Yeah, he couldn’t tell her no.

***

“Did you get home safe?” Dick texted a few hours later, once Y/N left the manor and got into her apartment.

“You could have given me a ride with that fancy porche of yours, so you wouldn’t have to ask after.”

“I was kind of hoping Jason will pick you on a bike and give you a romantic trip, but seemingly we can’t always have what we want.”

“Jason?” if they were talking not texting she would raise an eyebrow at the moment

“Sure? My younger brother? Do you remember Jason?”

“Fuck you Dick. Stop playing around. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Y/N for crying out loud. I saw that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing.”

What?!

“but yes, keep telling yourself you’re friends.”

What the hell?!

She lost her patience in an instant and dialed Dick’s number.

“Y/N.”

“What the hell was that Dick?!”

“I believe it’s something you call telling the truth”

“I believe it’s acting like a freaking gossip girl!”

“It’s not a gossip!

“stop playing with me!”

“Am not! Did I ever lie to you?” he trailed and for a moment there was silence in the phone as they both were thinking about the years of keeping a little secret of his vigilante persona. “It’s true. I swear. “

“so why tell me now?”

“Cause I am seriously scared of what injuries Jay maysustain if someone doesn’t speak up. Last week Steph did as much as mentioned your name and he fall off the stairs.”

“You’ll never let him live it down, will you?”

“Not a chance!” Dick laughed “but hey, we both know you have a crush on him too so…”

“This reverse psychology is not going to work on me Grayson. No circus for tricks.”

“Please don’t tell me you tease him absolutely absentmindedly…..”

“Tease? Dick this is just who I am. I play and twist words with everyone. I do that all the time with you.”

“can you at least talk to him about it?”

“wouldn’t that make it a bit awkward?”

“sure. And I’ll be right by the corner with the camera to video it.”

“I swear to god you’re the definition of an older brother.”

***

For three days Y/N was trying her best to avoid the conversation. No matter what Dick said, Jason was her friend and taking their relationship to another level was…. Hard. Honestly, Y/N wasn’t even sure how she herself felt about it. Did she like Jason as more than friend?

Yes,

no,

maybe?

How do you even recognize the moment when you stop thinking of someone as a buddy and move to I want to be more stage?

Sure, there’s physical attraction but that is not necessarily the sign of deeper feelings.

Just cause you feel you want to kiss someone doesn’t mean you love him.

So how did she feel?

She was postponing even thinking about it, but there’s no escaping when you serve as an emotional support and voice of reason for the whole family of vigilante seeing them *him* on a day to day basis.

So yes, Y/N was pretty much conflicted and feeling like a silly teenager, even though her metrics was showing quite a different age number.

And she was sad.

And that was something Jason could not stand.

“did you switch the position of your bed lately ?” he asked her after a few days of her being shy, withdrawn and silent. Obviously he did it in-character with the teasing tone and that freaking edgelord attitude.

“What?” she raised her gaze from the bat computer, frowning in confusion “there’s still no place for you to crush at my place one way or another.”

“Oh, please…” he rolled his eyes, plumping onto the seat next to her “as if that was what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“You seemed like you’ve been getting off on the wrong foot, hence the question. I thought you were smarter than that and will get the reference.”

“Haha… very funny Todd.”

“I’m serious though.”

“You are never serious.”

“I miss your laugh…..” he babbled without thinking and his eyes grew wide at the words. “oh, fuck…I mean… you have terrible laugh. Terrible. And I miss laughing at your laugh. That’s what I meant to say.”

“I swear you’re the only person I know who can both offend and complement someone in one sentence.” She scoffed, turning back to computer away from him

“Yeah, kind of my signature.”

“You’re a terrible person Jason Todd and I hate you. God I swear you’re so annoying. I can’t believe Dick was thinking you likelike me….” She babbled and this time it was her turn to blush because of saying too much. “oh, shit….I mean… Dick is delusional obviously and I’m pretty sure he was drunk while using the word.”

“Grayson told you I liked you?” Jason smirked.

“Yeah…. Funny, right?” she chuckles awkwardly

“Extremely funny.” Jason looked down avoiding meeting her eyes.

“Haha ….” She muttered.

And then, once they mocked Dick and the whole situation to the most possible extend and there was nothing more to say the silence fell between them. At first it was normal since they were both lost in their heads but after a while it started getting uncomfortable. Even the air in the batcave became heavier and it was becoming hard to breathe.

“Y/N…..” he looked at her

“Jace…..” she looked at him

And when their gazes met they were gone.

Acting on impulse they both moved forward, meeting halfway when their lips connected.

It was not like they write it in the books or how you see it in the movies or not even how you imagine kissing someone you like.

It was their first kiss together and yet, there were no sparks, no electricity, no butterflies in the stomach.

No.

Nothing so obvious and, well, spectacular.

And yet, there was something more to this display of affection.

The deep sense of doing something right.

Something pure and perfect.

Feeling of finally belonging somewhere.

With someone.

The inner peace.

It was….natural, but it didn’t take away the wonderfulness of being in the bubble together with that person.

Getting out all those emotions they were trying to hide.

And at this moment Y/N knew she was fooling herself. She did like him more than friends.

“Y/N…..?” he pulled back after a second, both pair of eyes closed, foreheads connected.

“Hmmmm?”

“I like you.”

“Yeah, I kind of notice……”

“Y/N……?”

“Yes, I like you too.”

“So what do I have to do to make you laugh again?”

She pulls back, opening her eyes and smirking teasingly.

“You can just be yourself. I swear sooner or later you will do something silly or stupid enough to make me laugh. At you…..”

“I think you and I have very different definitions of liking someone.”

“Maybe….but if there’s anyone I want to work towards creating joint meaning…. It’s you , Todd.”

“Oh….” He cooed “don’t give me diabetes with all that sweetness.”

“enjoy it while it last, Todd…..” she laughs and hearing that sound after a few weeks of silence he couldn’t help but grin widely.

Like a man in love.

Who he was.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood imagine #red hood x oc #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction

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earthry · 8 months

Text

How to Tempt Your Papas (Headcanons)

How to get your papas home early, inspired by this post (also mentioned in Copia's section).

sfw mostly, a little spicy imagery in some parts, gn!reader

Primo

Primo has such a soft spot for you. All you really have to do is send him some really sappy message telling him that he makes you so happy and you love him very much and he just melts.

He’ll send an equally long message about how he feels the same, how he loves you without requisite and that you make him want to be a better man every day of his life. That’s your hook and line.

For the sinker, send him a selfie of you in one of his sweaters all cozy in bed with a empty space beside you with a text saying ‘I miss you so much, I’m so cold and lonely without you :(‘ no matter how cheesy you think it is, it will capture good ol’ peepaw’s heart.

He’ll go ‘Oh no :( I left my dearest all alone, how could I? Shall I come home early tonight, amore mio?’ And voilà he’s home in less than half a hour. Mission successful.

Secondo

You’d think if you send nudes it’ll rile him up enough to come home and have his wicked wiles with you but no. This man is shameless. He’ll get off right then and there to your picture and send one back of his handiwork with a promise to absolutely ruin you later for trying to tempt him.

The first time you do this you learn that while it is a good motivator, it does not get him home any faster. Kind of backfires because when he sends you a well-framed shot of himself in hand entirely spent and messy, you're the one getting all hot and bothered now.

What really gets him home quickly is your home cooking. Make any authentic dish (especially with his mom’s recipe) and mans will be home in less than 20 minutes because that shit is fire when it’s hot out the oven.

He knows if he waits it’ll either get soggy or cold and he hates re-heating food. If you make his favorite he’ll be back in even less time.

Terzo

Where nudes don’t bring Secondo back, it’ll send Terzo packing for home. He’ll be back so fast you barely have time to put your phone down. He is so enthusiastic and most times it feels like he just can’t get enough of you.

Sure, he could wait until he’s done with his work to go home to you, glance at his phone every so often to motivate himself to finish quicker, but where’s the fun in that? His tesoro’s ready for him and who is he to keep them waiting?

He’ll dump his work onto some poor unsuspecting sibling of sin or ghoul and be out the door in seconds.

While it's very effective, you should be prepared to follow through with this man

Alright. For my ace-spectrum lovelies and those who feel uncomfortable with the idea of sex, I love you and you are so valid. Your method of choice will be Italian Soap Operas.

Every night before bed you'll watch a few episodes of a soap opera together, following along and commenting on outrageous choices or acting and pointing this out to each other.

Tell him if he doesn't come home, you're gonna start it without him. If that doesn't seem to get his butt moving, send another text ten minutes later saying 'do you want spoilers' or 'i did not expect that to pan out this way' or something about the episode coming up and he will respond with keysmashes and be on the way in no time.

Copia

Rat photos. Send him cute photos of his rats and he will cave and want to go home.

He’s a hard worker so sometimes he pulls all nighters and then just stays in the office for the whole next day as well. To lure him back to make sure he’s taking care of himself and getting food and sleep, make pancakes.

Make some for you and him and then tiny pancakes for the rats and take a picture. Tell him they’re waiting on him to eat together! They’re starving! But they really wanna wait for their papa to have breakfast together. Copia is home in minutes.

You can also send vaguely threatening (but not really) texts with a blurry photo of his beloved rats (like this post that I love very much) with a text saying “come home or she/he gets it”. He’s not worried that you’ll actually do anything to his babies, but he’ll still want to come home faster because fuck that’s really cute and funny of you.

#the band ghost #terzo #copia #ghost band #secondo #ghost bc #primo #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #cardinal copia x reader #headcanons

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tartigglez · 8 months

Text

"do this again...?"

zhongli x gn!reader

・❥・fluff fluff!

・❥・1.5k

・❥・helloooo i'm suffering an ungodly writers block rn so im really sorry if this is a MESS, i really don't mean for it to be sigh.. also inspired by that art where zhongli is fangirling over baizhus hair and going "so soft!" and then starts scrubbing his own head with a bar of soap (i can't find the link but if someone finds it lmk)

・❥・momentary dragon zhong!! modern au, readers a bit cuddly at the start lol, might not be suitable for all readers bc reader is a haircare nerd!! reader swears (this is a general warning for all my fics atp), i think thats it?? lmk??

zhongli was always put together, well presented, clean shaven, and always smelled of mahogany and vanilla, in fact, these were some of his most admirable traits. however, there was one thing that always puzzled you a little.

when he was in his dragon form, zhonglis hair was always soft and silky, and looked perfectly healthy. but of course, nowadays it is rare for him to be in this form, and so he usually stays in mortal form for long periods of time in order to blend in with the general population of liyue. when in this form however, zhonglis hair is brittle and dry, seemingly with little to no explanation as to why.

“zhongli,” you whisper against the fabric of a hoodie you insisted he buy (which he rejected initially. if it were up to him you would both be dressed in formal attire at almost all times of the day) “what’s up with your hair?”

“whatever do you mean?” he asks, large palm slowly rubbing the small of your back. he tilts his chin down to look at you as you rest your eyes, laying on his chest and fiddling with the ends of his ponytail.

“don’t you think its a little frizzy?” you ponder, moving your hand from his hair to instead grip on to his hoodie, fingers interlacing with the soft fabric as you sit up a little to meet his eyes. he would never admit to it, but watching you grip on to his clothing, looking all cozy was making the article grow on him, plus he knew you were a little sleepy, given you had gotten home and immediately insisted he cuddle with you.

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he laughs, moving to a straighter sitting position, and allowing you to adjust by placing your legs either side of his, stretching them out behind him and tucking your head in to the gap between his shoulder and neck.

“m’no, just an observation” you mumble against him. "it's always so healthy n-" you yawn mid-sentence, heaving your arms up around his neck, playing with the few stray hairs that sit at the back of his neck. "it's always helfy when y'do the thing… with the horns and the tail- n'stuff" you smack your lips a little every few words, eyelashes fluttering against the small portion of his collarbone which is exposed from under his hoodie.

"you're tired dear, you should sleep" he says gently, palms still rubbing up and down your back.

"buh if I sleep you'll-" you yawn again, unsurprisingly "you'll go n'do work or somethin'"

"who told you that, hm? I've done all my work for the day. I'm more than content to lay here with you," he whispers "besides, I'm intrigued to hear more of your sleepy opinions on my appearance"

“don’t have any opinions, only facts,” you giggle, placing a soft kiss on his skin before putting your cheek down against it, closing your eyes. “trust, i’ll get to the bottom of this t’morrow” you smile and yawn another time.

“fine, although i don’t think there's any problem with my haircare methods. rest well dear” he says, hands stilling on your back as the room falls to a desolate silence, only the sound of his breathing lulling you to rest.

brightness is normally a positive thing, but not when it's hitting your eyes so early in the morning, and the bed is so empty. shouldn’t zhongli be here? you yawn, opening your eyes a little more to see the whole room, and no zhongli in sight. however, your ears quickly hear it, quiet liyuean opera music coming from somewhere downstairs. he has already started his day.

you slowly, but surely make your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. you stumble upon zhongli in the living room, a computer on the coffee table in front of him, shirt sleeves rolled up and the muscles of his arms flexing as he types furiously, a puzzled expression lacing his features.

“you’re awake, darling. did you sleep okay?” he asks, eyes parting with the laptop to meet yours.

“like a baby” you giggle as you take small steps over to him, tiredly flopping on the couch beside him, hugging one of his arms and looking up at him. “whatcha lookin at?” you ask, closing your eyes and taking in his scent, and the environment around you, the twang of the guzheng and soft air of flutes coming through the speaker in the corner of the room, and the feeling of his arm moving slowly from your grip, instead snaking its way around your shoulders

“haircare methods,” he sighs, “i think i’ve realised the error of my ways”

“and that is…?” you raise an eyebrow at him, and he ultimately just looks embarrassed, cheeks flaring a slight shade of pink.

“well, it would seem that the soap i use is rather abrasive” he sighs, leaning back in the chair and opening up a tab on his browser to reveal a branded bar of soap. soap. not shampoo, not conditioner, but soap.

“soap?!” you ask, face contorting as if you had just had the shock of a lifetime. he nods sheepishly as you stare at him, moving up from your seat to get on your feet, grabbing his hands to drag him with you.

“come”

“where are we going?” he asks, smiling a little as if to be doting upon your sudden investment in his hair.

“bathroom” you say, dragging him up the stairs, feet thumping as you march up the stairs.

“what are we doing?” he inquires, following you into the bathroom, chuckling at you.

"reciting an extensive apology to your fucking hair follicles" you stare at him, face dead serious. your entire body is turned in the other direction, pulling out a wicker basket full of all your haircare products.

"language" he reprimands, folding his arms and taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"fuck fuck, shit fuck" you giggle, trying your hardest to invoke a reaction as you pull out different conditioning products from the basket. he just sighs. if it's you, such profanities can be excused in private, he supposes.

"don't be rude" he says, but he's secretly holding a laugh, watching you pull out some sort of deep conditioning pack, then squishing the liquid around in the packet.

"i'll be rude if i so wish" you taunt, sticking your tongue out before bursting out in laughter. "okay, sit on the floor" you say, setting the conditioning pack on the edge of the bath.

"excuse me?" he questions, standing up beside you, suddenly seeming a little taller than you remember.

"you heard me, head over the edge of the tub, chop chop"

"what on earth…?" he questions, kneeling with his head hanging fair over the bathtub.

"trust the process" you say, grabbing a towel from the rail on the other side of the room, putting it over his shoulders. you gently pull his hair tie out, watching the brown locks fall on to the towel.

"is this necessary?" he whines, tensing up a little when you move his hair off the towel, so that it went straight down in to the tub.

"yes," you answer flatly, "now close your eyes" you say turning on the shower head.

"why?" he asks, jumping a little in shock when you run the water over his head.

"too hot?" you ask, soaking his hair from scalp to tip. he shakes his head, and he's audibly breathing a little louder when the water runs down his cheeks. immediately after he feels you dump some sort of thick substance on his head.

"what on earth is that?" he asks, watching your hands reach to rub the mask down through his hair.

"conditioning mask" you answer, rinsing your hands under the tap, washing off the excess. “stay here” you instruct.

“my love, where are you going?” zhongli sighs, but you’ve already ran to the bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt to wrap around his hair.

“okay, lift your head up” you smile, and he awkwardly complies, trying his very best not to get water everywhere as you get his hair together to go inside the tee. he stands on his feet once again, before sitting on the toilet seat, legs awkwardly jutting out in to the room as you clean up any spilled water.

after you finish wiping around the edge of the bath, you look up at him from where you are, and a fountain of giggles spills over somewhere within you. you simply cannot stop laughing at him, meanwhile zhongli is staring at you like a wet dog. frowning, he meets your eyes.

“do we have to do this again?”

sfw masterlist || taglist: @lioria @celestetalkstoomuch

#zhongli #genshin impact #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin zhongli #genshin fluff #zhongli fluff #genshin impact x reader

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onedayimgonnasnap · 2 years

Text

MC giving the Yandere’s the Side eye

Warning: Crack, Cursing, Yandere

The MC’s gender is up for the reader to decide btw

(I decided to write this before school starts so have fun)

——

Riddle: What the fuck… how dare you not acknowledge his speech, his 30 minute essay that he worked sweat and tears on. He memorized the whole damn thing. For what?

He proceeded to stare at you back while you both had a staring contest. He could do this all day-

-Illuminati music-

As he was staring into your eyes when he started to see his whole past flash before his eyes. How his only friend besides Trey and Chenya was his homework, to his mom not letting him eat a tart-

Wait, is that Bob Ross painting happy trees?!

It felt so overwhelming.

Next thing you know, Riddle let you go back home with tears in his eyes. He transferred out of the NRC.

—————

Leona:

He was mad that you just stared at him. He kept staring at you back with at you until,

MC: “ tf are you looking at you walking second place trophy looking mother fucker-“

The whole dorm had to hold him back while you ran for your dear life home.

———

Azul:

Mc: “Bitches?”

Azul: “What are you talking about-“

Mc: “You kidnapped me because you had no bitches isn’t that correct? Shit with this attitude you have, you don’t even talk to me at school, after school and when you do it’s for business? The only friends you have are the Eels and even then they’re gonna get bored of you what then? You look mad stupid kidnapping me. 🤨”

Azul: *sniffling* …

Mc: “That’s what I thought you 50% off Squidward”

———

Kalim:

Kalim: 😃

Mc: 🤨

Kalim’s face slowly dropped as he felt like he made a mistake.

You got to go home with some gold as an apology.

———

Jamil:

As you both stared at each other he tried to use his unique magic but it didn’t work because you were staring at his forehead.

Mc: “Damn bitch you got a big ass forehead, I remember me and Grimm played Tic tac toe on your forehead once while you were sleeping-“

Jamil: “WAIT WHAT-“

———

Vil: Vil rolled his eyes as you side stared at him.

Mc: “You kidnapping me is some motherless behavior.”

He kicked you out faster than you can say motherless.

Rook had to cheer up Vil watching Soap Opera with him on the couch and some Ice cream while Vil sobs that you broke up with him.

———

Idia:

Idia couldn’t handle the tension. He kept looking away to avoid your gaze. It was like the whole school watching his every move.

He started to cry after 2 minutes of you staring at him in silence.

Idia: “THE EXIT IS ON THE LEFT, PLEASE JUST DONT HURT MY FAMILY-“

———

Malleus:

Malleus stared at you back thinking this was a human thing. It soon began to be a 3 hour staring contest with no blinking.

Malleus soon saw your eyes turning fully black and you were whispering some Satanic shit from ChernaBog or whatever the tf.

You gave Malleus trauma, Sebek hates you, you got to go home.

Malleus still gets nightmares of it crying into Lilia’s shoulder.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland riddle #yandere malleus x reader #yandere vil x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere idia shroud #yandere kalim al asim #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere jamil viper #Yandere crack

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cosmichoneibeee · 11 months

Text

Dating Reyna hc's

Reyna is strong and powerful, a true queen and a queen don't fall in love with any mere pawn.

You're truly special

Your abilities on and out field draw her attention first

And your shiny personality keeps her interested

Flirts 24/7

With Reyna, it's never 'if' you like her, it's 'when'

She's as charming as she can be deadly

It's not a surprise when you fall under her spell

"I like you"

"I know, cariño."

Loves to kiss you and is a very good kisser

She has so much fun when she leaves her crimson lipstick mark on your lips and you don't notice, walking around for the rest of the day like nothing happened

Can't go without kissing you or touching you in some way for many hours straight

When you are in the same room, her arm automatically goes behind your back, holding you close

Asks for kisses as a good luck charm before going on missions, even though she doesn't need luck, as she herself says

Missions together are a nightmare for the Valorant leaders

It's usually faster and more efficient, yes.

But at the same time, Reyna begins to ignore the call-outs and the other allies asking for help, striving only to protect and help you.

Loves to friendly compete with you

Likes to bet on things that makes both win, like kisses or dinner

Zyanya loves to show herself off to you, make daring kills, aces, or knife eliminations

She gets really mad if you're not looking when she does something impressive

Hurts her little heart

Makes her have certain passive aggressive moments with you

But she goes back to her passionate ways once you apologize, even though you weren't exactly wrong

Mission-free weekends are dedicated to the two of you. She loves to take you on dates.

You usually go out to dinner and she won't let you go to any restaurant, of course not, you only go to the fanciest restaurants of the region and eat the most expensive food on the menu

Baby you so much

Won't let you pay anything unless you say that's really important to you

Also loves to take you on shopping dates and will only leave if you two have both arms full of store bags

When she is tired because of missions during the week, she likes to stay at home and have a self-care night.

Order pizzas, shower together (if you want and without any sexual intent), let you go through her 15-step skin-care routine with her before finally sitting on the couch and watching a movie marathon or her favourite culebrón [soap opera] all night long

Like it or not, you will end up learning Spanish because Reyna always mixes languages

If you ask her to teach you more than just a few everyday words, she'll be more than happy to help.

A great teacher, despite the rigidity

Tries to learn your language (if it's not English) in secret, and aside from her heavy accent, she does it pretty well.

"It's about having discipline, cariño."

Your shoulder to cry on 24/7, anytime you need it

She would do anything for you, from boosting your self-esteem with honest words to helping you hide a corpse

And secretly hopes that you'll be there for her that way too

It is not a person with a stable psychological state to be honest, being with her is knowing that there may be outbreaks

She most commonly has nightmares, about Lucia and about losing you, in different ways.

But sometimes some triggers make her go beyond

After a particularly difficult mission, comes the obsession with keeping you safe and close..absurdly close

Or some odd noise in the middle of the night and the paranoia that someone is coming to kill you both

At these times, she needs her support and not only to tell her that everything is fine, but also to encourage her to seek professional help

Few of the Protocol know what happens to Reyna and having you help her overcome all these demons, she is very grateful

Despite all this, she is not a jealous partner at all

Zyanya knows her worth and she knows you, you wouldn't dare to do such thing

If someone tries to flirt with you, she just smirks, enjoying their attempt.

But that doesn't stop her from...talking...to this person if they make you uncomfortable

Loves you unconditionally

You are the reason she became a better and more understanding person

And she is the reason you became a braver and more confident person

You are the perfect match, besides all the differences and she would not trade you for anything in the world

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠

@ Do not copy any of my works, translate and/or post it on others websites.

#valorant #valorant x reader #valorant hcs #valorant headcanons #reyna #reyna x reader #reyna x you #zyanya mondragón #zyanya mondragón x reader

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