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#and I'm so grateful that he's the dog he is
nocturnalazure · 2 days
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)
( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )
Oh, thank you Anon! What a lovely question!
I love daydreaming about my OCs and I can come up with a thousand little details about them. I also love integrating those details into my story whenever possible. But the game is sometimes limiting and I can't show everything that I'd like to show, that's why I'm so grateful for OC asks: I get the chance to mention all those things that make up my characters and that would never get mentioned otherwise.
(I'm writing a whole essay again, I'll try to make it short)
So here are a few facts from previous character development questions/oc asks in which I've mentioned a detail that was simply never mentioned or shown in the story, directly or indirectly. :)
Nathaniel: drives too fast and gets speeding tickets. Would have liked to be a piano teacher.
Theo: got the 'heart of stone' lifetime reward. Likes Carmina Burana.
Ralph: was an alcoholic at some point. [NB: that's actually more or less induced in the very first scene in which he appears, which is in a watering hole] Listens to country music. Likes to sniff Pippa's belongings (like a dog!).
Sam: is a fan of Lily Allen. Has a husky voice. Tried to make latte art but failed. Uses "moron" a lot. Is a spendthrift.
Noah: was supposed to become a gigolo in my original storyline for him. Is a repressed Borderline.
Ash: actually strongly autistic-coded. He described love as being (I quote) "a four-leaf clover". Forgets pens everywhere he goes.
Uli: is scared of pigeons.
Ivy: her mother died of cancer when she was a baby. Is scared of old age and her body failing her. Likes sex toys.
Seth: the car he repaired at some point in the story was bought by Yu Wong (Anh's grandmother). His greatest fear was that Erik would suffer from something he's done. Doesn't like people touching him (except his wife).
Tristan: his rings are signet rings (the one on his thumb bears his family crest, the one on his little finger has a rather unidentifiable gemstone coming from his mother). Met in person King Louis XIV of France, Bach and Charlie Chaplin.
Laurie: his favorite drink is Gin & Tonic. Has a Discord account.
Anh: loves mooncakes. Watches anime.
Eloise: doesn't like video games. Loves the holiday season and listening to Tristan playing the piano.
Erik: is a fan of Deadpool and Wolverine. Loves the smell of gasoline and cinnamon.
Romeo: went by Federico in gay bars. Would like to adopt a cat. Is an excellent swimmer.
Jamie: dips his chip back into the salsa after taking a bite. Doesn’t call ahead when he’s late. Chews on his fingernails.
Omar: loves pistachios and Candy Crush.
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fayeandknight · 1 year
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As Forte matures and continues to gain confidence in his training I can't help but appreciate his ability to work calmly and think through situations.
I had him tucked between me and the self checkout station at the grocery store. Without direction from me he got up and sat behind me, which is a trained task called blocking. It took me a few seconds to clock what he had. An unhappy customer was loudly complaining to an employee and coming towards us. They ended up getting so far into our space that they ended up almost on top of Forte. I don't think it was intentional, they were likely just too wrapped up in themselves to be cognizant of other people's space.
Forte didn't budge. Just looked at the person and then back at me. I paid him with chicken and told him he was a good boy. His tail thumped softly against the floor but he didn't get up.
While moving to sit behind me may seem like such a small thing, it makes a big difference for me. Due to my disability being crowded or bumped into can have negative consequences for me.
And I have to be impressed because that small thing is actually a big ask of most dogs. He didn't lean in to sniff or solicit attention from the other person, even though he's friendly and loves making friends. He didn't give to the spatial pressure of a stranger standing that close to him and move away. He didn't feed off of the annoyed energy of the other person or my getting uncomfortable.
He assessed the situation, loud person coming towards us, acted, moved into a block position, and held it until I was ready to leave.
A lot of service dog training isn't flashy or impressive to watch. But I'm so grateful to have him by my side. I know how much it truly asks of the dog and watching him embrace the challenge makes my heart grow three sizes.
He really is such an impressive dog.
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marathedemonoverlord · 11 months
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I feel like the game's trying to tell me something. I'm not even doing Nightmare often and suddenly I'm bombarded with special Diavolo cards.
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Okay I get it the man's fine as hell and his little dance sprite shooting fire is lit af you don't gotta tell me that I can admit defeat and now it's nice to have him in the battle - It's like playing Smash and you got to beat the challenger to earn a chance to play em lol.
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ryanthedemiboy · 1 year
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My cat has gone out three times tonight, so now he's locked in my room with me (with fresh water and a litter box) for the night.
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aromothmantic · 7 months
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LOOK WHAT @natashairostova GOT ME AS AN EARLY BIRTHDAY PRESENT AAAAAAAAAH
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neil-gaiman · 1 month
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hi Mr. Gaiman. My cat died two days ago and I really miss him. I’ve seen pictures of your dogs so I think you might be a dog person so I don’t know if you’ll get this but, I not only miss my cat (Kittywitty), but I also miss the the unconditional love that he gave. I’m scared that I won’t experience that kind of love again and it makes me very lonely. I’m scared of forgetting him, he deserves the world. He wandered into our farm one day and never left and I’m so grateful. He reminds me of you a lot, he carries this wonderful, otherworldly magic. I’ve known him since I was three. Life got less magical, but he never did. You could have the worst day, but then you’d see him and it was suddenly the best day. Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day. You’re truly amazing and your writing enraptures me.
I'm so sorry about your cat.
I don't believe that there are cat people and dog people. I had so many cats from 1992 on -- they would turn up at our house and never leave. I wrote a story about them, and about one in particular, called "The Price".
This is Zoe, who was blind, and died in 2010:
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This is Princess, who turned up (with kittens, and pregnant with more) in 1992 or 1993 and died in 2013...
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One day, maybe, I'll be ready to have a house full of cats once more. It took me ten years after my dog first died to get another dog though. It never gets easier. It's always wonderful.
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maiko-san · 3 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 1 )
Part 2 >>>
Relationship : Fluff
Reader : Female, age 20.
Plot : You are one of the Playcare employees that looks after the Smiling Critters and makes sure all the mascots are in good shape.
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The very first day you were assigned to the Playcare, you didn't expect the mascot to be huge and very tall. Hell, even taller than Huggy Wuggy themselves!
You were nervous to be around these mascots but it was your job to keep them at a top notch.
Dogday, the leader of the smiling critters was the first to greet you. His personality is as bright as the sun necklace around his neck.
The others follow his lead and greet you with smiles on their faces, welcoming you to the daycare.
Well, except one.
Which was Catnap.
The purple cat mascot is high up on one of the buildings, watching everything from above and his eyes looking down at you, judging you from afar.
For the first week, you monitor the smiling critters and their behaviours. The others are fine interacting with the children, except for Catnap who prefers to be on his own.
You tried to get the cat to do his job but the mascot refused to listen to you. Which was frustrating.
You were amazed that the technology in place is far more advanced and the mascots in this Playtime Co. have their own personalities like a real person would which was..... intriguing and at the same time.... terrifying.
According to Dogday, Catnap used to be very friendly but he had been distancing himself from the group recently.
He never knows why.
The supervisor told you that Catnap was the most troublesome in the group and they said to keep an eye on the cat and make sure he does his work and doesn't get in any trouble.
It would take time for you to properly work with him. So, you respect the mascot's boundaries and try interacting with him slowly.
Day by day, you make sure to visit him first every time your shift starts. you greet Catnap with a 'Good morning' and 'How are you doing?'.
The cat only stares at you with a swishing tail, you set down a bag of croissants and look up at the mascot.
"Hey, Catnap! If you're hungry, you can have these croissants! Eat it while it's still fresh, okay bud. You can't work with an empty stomach!"
"......"
Again, he just stares at you.
You also learn that these mascots are able to consume organic matter which again shocks you, so you always sneak in some food from the cafe for all the smiling critters, in secret.
The smiling critters began to like you and saw you as their favourite out of all the employees.
Things go on normally in the daycare, the smiling critters keep themselves busy with the children ( that you weren't allow to interact with )
You spend your time in the office and look through the papers. When you were about to take a sip of the hot drink from your cup—
"Hiya, there! Mrs. (L/n)!"
"Oh, f—k!"
You jump out from your seat and some of the hot drink spilled onto your pants causing you to curse under your breath.
It was Dogday.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"
The dog apologises for startling you and offers you a handkerchief that magically appears out of thin air.
You said you were alright. You turn to ask what makes Dogday come to your office.
The smiling critter just said he wants to see you, saying to you that you have been coup up in your office for hours now.
You were grateful that he was concerned about you but you told him that the papers kept you busy.
"Sorry, bud. I just have a lot of papers to look through. Ya know, I have to keep all of you in shape"
"I see. Thank you for caring and taking care of us angel........unlike the others—anyways!"
Dogday whispers the last part which cannot be heard clearly by you.
"Do you need help with anything? I'm free! I can help you with everything and as a leader of the Smiling Critters, it is also my job to help you too!"
Dogday offers a helping hand, his tail swishing as he awaits for your answers.
You told him you do need help sorting out the papers into the folders which the dog excitedly said yes.
He sits on the floor next to you, since how tall he is. You point out the paper that he needs to sort out in the correct order.
Dogday have trouble picking up the papers with his large hands. You couldn't help but stifle at the sight, yet he managed to find a way of picking up the paper without crumpling it.
After a few hours passed. The bell rings loudly, signalling it was recess time.
You stretch your limbs and stand up from your chair, you turn to Dogday who already finished sorting out all the papers.
"You did a great job there, Dogday. Thank you!"
"Hehe, no problem Mrs. (L/n)! Glad to help!"
"Just call me, (Y/n). Dogday. No need to be so formal and besides I'm not THAT old..."
"Alright, (Y/n)!"
You yawn escape your mouth as you rub your eye, a nice nap is the only thing that comes to your mind after a long hour of paperwork.
Dogday notices how tired you look.
"A good nap will make you feel energetic afterwards!"
"Yeah, it does. I'm going to the staffroom and sleep there. You can go back to the playcare, Dogday"
But the orange dog didn't leave and instead picks you up which surprises you.
Dogday held you close to his body and said.
"No need! You can sleep here with me!"
His arms wrap around your smaller body, your face buried into his chest and his fur smells like vanilla. Which was comforting....
Before you know it, you already drift off to sleep.
"Sleep well, angel...."
Next day.
Following the same routine, you visit Catnap again but the cat was nowhere in sight.
You call out for the feline and you hear a loud thud behind you. Hot breath tickles your back which causes you to quickly turn around to see the purple cat staring at you with beady white eyes.
You hold out an apple pie to him, which the cat takes and devours with a wide open mouth.
"I want....more"
"Huh?"
"More....sweets..."
It was the first time you heard Catnap speak, his voice was deep and distorted.
You now have learned that Catnap likes sweets. Which gives you quite an advantage over him.
"Yes, you can have more sweets.....If you do your job"
You told the cat which he grunts roughly in return.
"You can request any kind of sweets you want in return, I promise. Just as long you do your job as a play care attendant"
Catnap seemingly thinking about the deal that you had offered to him. The sweets seems to get to him since he never gets to eat such food....
It was tempting and he finally agrees with you.
"Okay..."
With that simple okay, Catnap begins to do his job in the play care to Dogday's delight.
After the shift is over, you give Catnap his sweet treats as you promised.
"Haha! See, it wasn't that hard, right! You did a great job there, Catnap! If you keep doing that, I might bake you a cake!"
You praised the feline mascot with a bright smile. Which causes the feline to look away slightly.
The feeling of praise makes his heart flutter with warmth.....
It was a very long day at work and you bid the smiling critters a good night before you leave the playcare.
Unknown to you, some of the higher ups have noticed how well you do with the Smiling Critters.
You are safe....
For now....
A/n : There will be more interaction with Catnap in the next chapter! I am aware that Catnap is Theo which is a child!
I am not sure who resides in Dogday and he might be one of the employees of the playcare since he knows so much.
Relationship between the three would be fluff. If romance, it could be focused on Dogday maybe...?
Well, it's up to you guys.
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thelaisydazy · 2 months
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Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out
“Riley! Bad dog!”
You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 
You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 
“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 
“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 
He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 
Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 
“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”
You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”
“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”
You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 
“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 
“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 
“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 
You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 
Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”
“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 
“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”
Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.
---
As a treat, here's a second one today <3
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flangore · 3 months
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❥ she loves me like a dog
feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader
summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.
warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion
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Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.
There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.
And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.
Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.
Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.
“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”
Your throat felt tight.
“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”
The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.
“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”
There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.
Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”
“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”
Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.
“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”
“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”
You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”
“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”
“Already on it, babe.”
With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.
In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.
A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”
“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.
Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”
You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.
Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.
“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”
Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.
Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.
Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.
“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”
At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.
You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.
You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.
At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.
Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.
“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”
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vaspider · 9 months
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Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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alwaysshallow · 5 months
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Simon playing guard dog and not allowing the cheating husband anywhere near your office, knowing you don't want to see him... just a thought in case you wanted to hear it or whatever...
hjadhgsbjn
ghost would be mean, that's no doubt. like?? you're talking about OFFICE and i'm thinking about the whole ass base.
recruits are afraid of ghost (rightfully so), that's why he uses them to his advantage. like, he's not even thinking of it twice, he's gonna do everything for higher!ranked reader, that's why recruits try to keep him away from the building.
mostly, they succeed, but sometimes it just doesn't work. either they are dumb, or they just can't spot him, but as ghost is around your office all the time, always when you need him, he stops your husband.
or, ex-husband, as he reffers to him. your husband corrects him constantly, and he's just smirking with cheeky "right" before he drags him out, growling something about final warning and how he should leave you alone before it gets messy.
you're grateful for that, really. very much so, but you scold him about his use of words, and how he shouldn't say shit like this. because your husband could sue his ass, for instant.
and he couldn't care less. not when he gets to be around you more, not when he wraps a blanket around you, when you're sleeping in your office.
not when he can have you between his arms, even if you're crying because, in your eyes, you're maybe not good enough. it's bullshit in his head, you're more than good. you're just perfect.
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Hello! I love your writing. Can I request an actress y/n story of her doing the Vogue 73 questions interview and some of the questions being cute stuff about her relationship with Tom and the interviewer going viral on social media.
73 Questions with Vogue || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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A/n: this was so fun to write, thank u for the request anon :)
Warnings: none
Wc: 606
Tom Blyth x actress!reader au masterlist
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Divider by @pommecita
You step into the grand foyer of your opulent home, adorned with exquisite art and gleaming chandeliers. Vogue’s cameras follow your every move as you prepare to answer their 73 questions. The air is charged with anticipation as fans worldwide await a glimpse into your glamorous life.
"Mind your step," you caution the interviewer, noting the subtle elevation that often catches people off guard. "Oh, thanks," he chuckles in response to your warning, and a reciprocal grin plays on your lips. The interviewer then dives in, initiating the conversation with, "What's your morning routine like?"
You flash a radiant smile, “I start my day with a strong cup of coffee and a walk with Tchai.” As you speak, you gently caress your spoodle, cozily curled up on the sofa.
"Tchai is so adorable! How long have you had him?" The interviewer questions, giving your dog an affectionate pat. "I've had Tchai since I started dating my partner Tom, it was actually his gift to me for our one year," you share with a smile, recalling the moment Tom surprised you with the dog of your dreams.
As you stroll through the expansive living room, the camera captures the elegance that surrounds you. A question about your career follows, and you share anecdotes from your latest film.
“I actually took this from the set of tbosas, it’s a photograph of my character and Coriolanus that was on Coryo’s bedside table during the first scenes,” You show the camera the photo, your grin reflecting the fond memories associated with it.
“Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?” The interviewer probes further. “FaceTiming for sure! I’m too slack most of the time to text, so I'd rather FaceTime people because then I can see their reactions,” you share, casting a glance over your shoulder as you navigate through your hallway, adorned with captivating artworks.
The interviewer then delves into a more personal inquiry, asking, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?” You take a contemplative pause, “I’ve learned to prioritize my well-being and maintain a grounded perspective. Surrounding myself with genuine people helps.”
Entering your plush home office, you take pride in showcasing the awards adorning the shelves. The conversation seamlessly transitions to your personal life, and a subtle smile graces your lips.
“Congratulations on reaching your three-year anniversary with Tom!” The interviewer beams, and you reciprocate, “Thank you!” “Could you share a bit more about your relationship with Tom?” the interviewer inquires.
Your eyes light up, “Tom is incredible. We support each other’s dreams and share a deep connection. He’s my biggest cheerleader. And I'm genuinely grateful to have someone like him in my life.”
The camera follows you into the stylish kitchen, where you casually pour a glass of water. “What’s the key to a successful relationship?” He asks. “Communication, trust, and a lot of laughter,” you reply, your tone sincere.
The resonant creak of the front door interrupts the air, and a familiar voice follows, causing an immediate and infectious smile to light up your face. “Oh, there’s Tom right now,” You chuckle setting the glass down before you make your way to the foyer, the camera effortlessly trailing your every move.
“Hi sweetheart,” Tom removes his sunglasses, drawing you close for a tender kiss before casting a warm smile at the camera. “Go, continue your interview,” He encourages, his eyes filled with affection, as you return the grin and redirect your attention to the ongoing interview.
Moving towards the sunlit terrace, you reveal breathtaking views. The interviewer probes further, "How do you maintain a work-life balance?" You chuckle, turning your gaze towards the camera, "It's a juggling act, but quality time with loved ones is non-negotiable," You point out.
As you ascend the staircase, your eyes meet Tom, engrossed in play with Tchai on the couch. A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection.
"What's something people don't know about you?" You ponder on the question before replying, "I'm allergic to most flowers," You reveal as a soft chuckle leaves your lips. "Really? I wouldn't have known," The interviewer comments, surprised at you revelation.
"Oh, absolutely! During the filming of tbosas, I couldn't escape the constant sneezing, and my eyes were continuously watery, especially when shooting scenes outdoors in the district. We had to take a lot of takes with those scenes" you confess with a sheepish smile, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.
The tour continues through a luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. "Favorite fashion trend right now?" You gesture to your chic outfit, "Effortless elegance. Comfort meets style."
"What are your top artists that you listen to?" You walk over to your vinyl player, hands flickering through the vinyl records. "That's a tough once since I listen to a wide range of music. But I think I'd have to say my top three would be Olivia Rodrigo, The Neighbourhood, and the Smiths," You smile, picking out the 'Louder than bombs' vinyl and playing 'back to the old house'
"This is actually Tom and I's favourite song from the Smiths," You reveal with a grin. "You seem to have quite a collection of hats, care to share some light about the meaning behind your huge collection?" The interviewer points to a wall where about 20 cowboy hats were hung up.
"Funny story actually, these are hats that Tom and I have either taken, or were given from the set of Billy the Kid." You pick up Tom's cowboy hat, "Those who have watched the series, which you definitely should, would recognise this hat to be Billy's," You showcase the hat to the camera.
"This one I was gifted to by the director," You point to a white hat, "And these ones are from other cast members like Daniel, Alex, Ryan, and a few others," You gesture to the others.
A sudden knock at the door causes you to look at the door where Tom peaks his head around, the camera zooming onto him as he grins. "I made some iced chai's, your with oat milk" He walks in, handing you yours and one for the interviewer, "Awe, thanks babe," You gratefully smile at him.
"Yeah, thank you Tom!" The guy smiles at Tom who smiles warmly before leaving. You take a sip and let out a satisfied sigh from the cold beverage. "Mhm, this iced chai is delicious! Is this something you drink often?"
"Oh I love everything and anything chai. That's why I named my dog tchai cause I love it so much," You chuckle, "Do you usually have it with oat milk?" The interviewer asks as you hum, "I'm lactose intolerant so I drink oat milk,"
“Oh I see, I can tell Tom is very thoughtful, what’s your favourite trait that he has?” He asks a difficult question, “You can’t make me choose, I love everything about him!” You giggle.
“Okay, okay, sorry just say one that comes to mind then,” He chuckles, “hmm, I love the little things he does like putting medicine and a cup of water on my bedside table when I’m sick, buying chocolate for me when he knows I’m not having the best day, braiding my hair when I’m in my office doing work because it de-stresses me.”
“He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for,” You smile like a schoolgirl thinking about him. As the interview concludes, you step into the sunlight, the epitome of success and poise.
The Vogue 73 questions interview becomes an internet sensation, captivating audiences worldwide. Your fans celebrate not just the actress but the genuine, relatable person behind the glamour.
In the days that follow, headlines laud your openness and authenticity. Your relationship with Tom Blyth becomes a the talk of the internet once again. The internet buzzes with admiration, turning the Vogue interview into a timeless moment in your career.
1K notes · View notes
seungkw1 · 22 days
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better late than never — kmg
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♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], best friends to lovers, non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.7k ♡ warnings: size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), riding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, mingyu is a boob guy, praise kink if u squint ♡ a/n: written for my bestie <3 and posting just in time for his birthday - happy mingyu day!!
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knock-knock-knock-knock
“come on! let me in!!” 
you approach your front door, but you don’t unlock it yet. 
“what happened to the copy of my key i gave you?” you inquire to the voice on the other side. 
“i forgot it!” 
you turn the deadbolt, opening the door to reveal the man standing outside - the look on his face is sheepish as he stands there, arms full of grocery bags. 
“kim mingyu i asked you to get me three things, not the entire store,” you say incredulously. 
“i saw your fridge the other day. you literally only had cheese, beer, and a jar of pickles in there,” he retorts, shooting you a judgemental look. 
“the three main food groups.”
mingyu rolls his eyes as he enters your apartment. “whatever, i'm cooking you dinner. a real dinner.”
“aye aye captain,” you say as you jokingly salute him. 
you met mingyu freshman year of college, when he burst through the door of your dorm room - thinking it was his own (he was on the wrong floor). his eyes turned wide as saucers as he realized his mistake. 
“SORRY,” he blurted out before fleeing out of the room. he was gone before you had even processed what happened. 
the next day he returned - this time knocking first. you opened the door to see the tall man, holding two packs of ramen. 
“sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, still a bit embarrassed. “i'm an idiot and thought i was on the sixth floor.”
“you're not an idiot, mistakes happen. it's okay,” you assured him amiably. 
“thanks, i’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything,” he replied with a smile. he extended the ramen to you. “it’s not much but i just… felt like i should bring a gift for some reason?” he told you, looking like he was second guessing himself as the words came out of his mouth. 
“ooo it’s the good kind too,” you replied eagerly as you took the ramen from him. “you wanna have one right now?”
he looked surprised, but delighted at your suggestion. 
“actually that would be awesome, those were my last two,” he admits with a laugh. you grin back at him. 
“well, come on in. again.”
and so mingyu inadvertently became your best friend. if not for the dorm incident, you probably never would have even crossed paths with him - he was your typical business bro, while you were majoring in psychology and literature. but, something just clicked between you two. 
a handful of years later now, he’s still your closest friend. and here he is, in your kitchen, grabbing the appropriate pots, pans, and utensils to get started on his spaghetti carbonara. as independent of a person as you are, you're not particularly the best chef - so you're grateful for his culinary expertise and willingness to make food for you. 
over dinner, mingyu is his usual chatty self. he tells you about his day, about how his neighbor has picked up the irritating hobby of learning to play the trumpet, about the dog he met yesterday while at the park, about his new coworker who seems to like him a little too much. 
“well, is she cute?” you ask nonchalantly, swirling the wine in your glass.  
“huh?” your question seems to catch him off guard. “i don't know. i mean, i've never thought about it.”
“bullshit,” you tell him, taking a big sip. 
“it's true!”
“right. well think about it, is she?”
“she's conventionally attractive i guess. i don't know why it matters though,” he says sincerely. 
“well if she likes you and she’s cute, you should ask her out.”
“that would be extremely unprofessional,” he scoffs, appalled at your suggestion. “besides, she's not my type.”
“what, is she weird or something?”
“no. and besides, i like weird. but i definitely don't see her like that.”
“what do you mean, you like weird?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. 
“i mean, you’re weird. and i like you.” he says it matter-of-factly, as if he was telling you the grass is green. 
“okay well obviously you don't want to date me,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “but come on, you haven't dated anyone in years. i'm trying to help to you here.”
the expression on his face changes, but you can't quite decipher what he’s thinking. 
“i don't need help.”
you give him a weird look. 
“not like that!” he quickly insists. “i just mean, don't worry about me, i’m fine.”
“ooookay, whatever you say gyu.”
his face remains calm, but you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly. normally, he’s not a fan of the nickname, but you know you're the only one who's allowed to call him that. he’s told you before. 
“well, what about you?” he asks suddenly. 
you look at him while chewing a big bite of pasta, confused. “what about me what?”
“are you, like… seeing anybody these days?” 
he speaks timidly, as if treading on eggshells. 
“why? are you asking me out?”
“ha ha, very funny,” he says sarcastically. he then shrugs. “i was just curious.”
“i actually did go on a date last week,” you admit. he looks up, surprised. 
“really? how'd it go?”
“surprisingly, really good,” you tell him.
“that's good. you have a long history of terrible first dates.”
“it was a second date, actually.”
mingyu pauses. “and you didn't tell me about the first one? fake as hell.”
“oh shut the fuck up,” you tease back, grinning at him. 
he picks up the bottle of wine sitting on the table. “should we finish this?” he asks. 
“duh.”
he removes the cork, pouring you another glass before refilling his own. 
after the delicious meal, you begin to clean up the kitchen, but mingyu quickly gets up and takes the dishes from your hands. 
“i got it.”
“you did all the cooking, let me do it,” you tell him. 
“nope,” he insists, already scrubbing plates. 
you help anyway, but mingyu is fast. the kitchen is sparkling within ten minutes. 
“damn, this looks better that it did before you got here,” you remark as you start the dishwasher. 
“don't go on a third date.”
you freeze. you look back at mingyu - he's reclining against the kitchen counter. his face, sincere. 
“what?” you ask hesitantly. 
“i said, don't go on a third date.”
he rises, walking toward you. he stops inches away from you, extending his arms, leaning his palms on the counter on either side of you. his face hovers above yours, his warm eyes locked onto yours. 
“gyu, are you drunk?” you ask, knowing full well he's not. your heart is suddenly pounding. 
“i'm not.” he brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “can i kiss you?”
you’re stunned, standing motionless, breathing deeply as he strokes your jawline softly with his thumb. sure, you’d thought about the possibility of dating mingyu before. more than once, even. and you figured he’d probably thought about dating you before. but truly, you never thought he had serious feelings for you. 
but here you are, pinned against your kitchen counter by your best friend. your best friend, who happens to be incredibly attractive. and the way your heart is racing - you really do want to kiss him right now. 
you try to think logically, rationalizing whether this is a good decision, but the emotional part of your brain takes control. you kiss him. you kiss him - and he kisses you, and you stand there, in your best friend’s arms, kissing each other, as if you'd both been waiting for this moment for years. and deep down, you know you have been. 
mingyu grabs hold of you, pulling you up onto the counter. you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands slowly up and down his torso, feeling his toned body through his soft shirt. he caresses you gently, kissing you still - you're suspended in time, just the two of you, bodies connected like never before. you suddenly cannot believe you've spent years with this man and never once made out with him - but better late than never. 
he softly brings his hands to your sides. your lips finally part - you instantly miss the sensation. he slides his hands under your shirt, pausing right before he reaches your breasts.  
“can i touch them?” he asks, his voice breathy. you nod fervously. he caresses your over your bra, kissing you again as he squeezes your tits in his large hands. you inadvertently let out a soft moan. mingyu grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. he looks at you in awe. 
“you're so perfect.” 
he is utterly gushing and swooning over you right now. you feel your heart skip a beat. 
you slip your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his abs and chest. he pulls his shirt off too, standing there before you. you've seen mingyu shirtless before, but not like this. his muscles are striking, perfectly sculpted - his golden, sunkissed skin glows beautifully. you feel a sudden, strong carnal urge to lick him, kiss him, bite him all over. 
you look up at him - the look in his eyes reciprocating your desire. you hop off the counter, taking his hands in yours. you pull his arms, tugging him in the direction of your room. his cheeks turns flush as he realizes your intent - a roguish grin spreads across his face, revealing his pointy canines you’ve always loved.
mingyu wastes no time taking your pants off as you throw yourself onto the bed, reclining against the soft pillows. he gazes at you lustfully as you lay there in your lingerie, unzipping his pants and pulling them off as fast as humanly possible. you feel throbbing in your core at the sight of him standing there - his light gray underwear doing absolutely nothing to disguise the prominent erection underneath. 
he crawls into bed, his body hovering above yours. you wrap your arms around his broad torso, pulling his large frame into yours as you begin to move your hips, grinding against his cock - the wet spot on your panties grows as you rub your cunt against him. it was clear from the moment he took his pants off that he is big, but feeling its length, its thickness, against your clothed pussy is making you clench around nothing - making you wish you were clenching around him instead. 
mingyu gently grabs your arms, pinning them next to your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. his lips lightly graze against yours. 
“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly. you nod immediately. 
“yeah.”
he buries his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you repeatedly. he gradually makes his way down your body, his hands moving to take your bra off, but he pauses.
“can i-”
“you can do whatever you want to me,” you interject.
you feel his cock twitch. “oh god, don't tell me that.”
he unclasps the hook, letting out a moan at the sight of your bare tits. immediately he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his lips. he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it - his hand squeezing and pinching the other as his cock grinds against your core. you're gone already - a moaning mess, putty in his hands. he eventually switches sides, cool air hitting the wetness remaining on your nipple. you get the feeling mingyu could suck your tits forever. 
he eventually moves on, planting kisses down your stomach as he situates himself between your legs. he kisses your inner thighs - slowly approaching your core, but not touching you just yet. you whimper as he finally touches his lips to your clit over your thoroughly wet underwear. he licks you slowly, his tongue running over the thin fabric several times before he slips his finger underneath, pulling your underwear aside, exposing your soaked core. he groans at the sight of it. 
“fuck, just as pretty as i imagined.”
you part your lips to say something, but your words become lost - instantly replaced with cries of pleasure as he begins eating you out. you run your fingers through his hair, grasping onto it as he sucks repeatedly on your clit. he places a large hand on your belly, applying pressure, as he takes two fingers to your pussy, slipping them in with ease. you moan as he begins to fuck you, your hips beginning to buck. 
“more,” you beg. 
you cry out as he adds a third finger - your cunt has never felt so full, but you know this is nothing compared to how his cock would feel in you. he continues sucking your clit, heat rising in your lower stomach as you feel yourself nearing orgasm. you writhe in pleasure, screaming mingyu’s name as he makes you cum - and he makes you cum hard. 
your head spins as you come down from your powerful high. as you catch your breath mingyu crawls back up, laying against you, his radiant body heat making your skin turn hot. he strokes your cheek, pressing his lips hungrily against yours once more. 
“can you… will you ride me?”
your pussy throbs at the mere thought. wordlessly you nod. mingyu reaches down, sliding your panties off before discarding his own underwear. you gasp softly as his cock springs free. you reach down, taking hold of it - its size making your hand appear tiny in comparison. he leans his head back, sighing as you stroke his length, your palm becoming wet with his precum.
you give him a push, rolling over on top of him. his tip grazes your wet cunt as you straddle him, his eyes locked onto yours intensely. you sit up, taking his cock in your hand, rubbing it against your folds a few times, before finally slipping it inside. you slowly lower yourself onto it, whining softly as its thickness stretches you. mingyu groans as you bottom out, sitting entirely on his cock. you haven’t even moved yet, but his breathing is heavy, inhaling deeply as he reaches up to grab onto your breasts. you begin to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down, his cock filling you up beyond anything you could’ve imagined. you gradually increase your pace, both of you moaning at the overwhelming sensation, until you are fully bouncing on his cock, your palms resting against his muscular chest to steady yourself as you unravel over him. 
mingyu begins to whimper. “you’re so fucking hot,” he utters between heavy breaths. “you’re gonna make me cum.” 
you ride him relentlessly, crying out at how good he feels inside you. his eyes close as he releases, thrusting his hips powerfully as he cums in your pussy - the warmth of his cum filling you up. your pace slows, riding him gently as he finishes, his moans tapering off as he begins to come down. you settle onto his cock, laying on him as you kiss him. he kisses you back lovingly, one hand running through your hair, the other caressing the small of your back. you lay there for a while, his chest rising up and down as he breathes deeply. your heartbeat slows, pounding heavily in your chest as you recover.
slowly, he finally pulls out. you roll to his side, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace, squeezing him with all your might. he giggles. 
“mingyu?” you ask softly after several moments of silence.
“hm?”
“you should’ve told me sooner.”
he sighs. “i wanted to - many times. but i didn’t want to risk our friendship. i didn’t think you felt the same way.”
“i think… i think i’ve always loved you. i just never realized it.”
mingyu smiles. he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
“so… what does this mean? for us,” he asks you.
you look up - his warm eyes are fixated on you, optimistic, awaiting your answer.
“well, i really don’t think anything is going to change.” a nervous look washes over his face - you quickly add, “except that we fuck now and also i want you to be my boyfriend.”
he closes his eyes, letting out a laugh. he pulls you closer into his embrace.
“i like the sound of that.”
687 notes · View notes
futureplayboibunnie · 6 months
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Heartless Pt. 4
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.
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“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.
Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”
“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.
“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.
Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.
“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.
Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.
-
You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’
The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.
You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.
You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.
Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?
You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.
In the garden.
-
Miguel heard a gunshot.
It reverberated in his ears.
More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.
His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.
But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.
You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….
Miguel frowned.
The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.
“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.
Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.
Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?
Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.
You were really fuckable.
Extremely fuckable.
It was an objective statement.
But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.
“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.
-
taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)
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yourmidnightlover · 2 months
Text
the sun
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?
warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!
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you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.
tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.
6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.
half of the world, gone in a moment.
in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...
sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.
this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.
"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.
"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.
she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.
a positive pregnancy test.
you were having bucky's baby.
without bucky.
you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.
they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.
god, it hadn't even been two months.
how were you supposed to do this alone?
"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.
eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.
"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."
you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.
"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.
"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."
"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"
"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"
-
you knew you were around eight weeks along.
according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.
bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.
banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).
you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.
within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.
in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.
you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.
as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.
he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.
"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."
steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.
you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.
she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.
just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.
you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.
he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.
he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.
he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.
truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.
in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.
oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.
and within the week, you were having your baby.
steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.
"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"
"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.
"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...
"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."
-
the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.
crawling, first words, first steps...
you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.
but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.
you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.
how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.
not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.
you never took off his dog tags, either.
steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!
you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.
banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.
then, you got a call from tony and banner.
it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.
of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.
the only thing is that nat never came back...
next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.
is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?
then, you felt a buzz in your hand.
although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.
shocker.
after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...
but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.
he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.
when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.
"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."
"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."
you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."
his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.
within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.
"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.
you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.
upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.
"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.
his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.
meeting you. falling in love. dying?
his son.
he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.
"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.
"i love you so much, both of you."
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Text
She-Wolf - Feral!Reader x Ghost
Content Warnings - Violence, blood, descriptions of murder, smut, afab!fem!reader
Description - Soap notices something new about Ghost.
A/N - here it is @groguspicklejar I finally made it.
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That's new.
Soap has never seen that before. In the military you get used to the general disregard for privacy. You shower together, sleep in the same place together, eat together and bleed together. So Soap has gotten used to the bodies of those around him. But also, he's always noticed when things on his teammates' bodies changed.
Like when Gaz got that new scar on his thigh. And like now, with a tattoo on Ghost. Which is odd, he's never seen a new one on him before, always that same sleeve. Weirder still... Is that a tattoo of a bite on his left arse cheek?
For a moment, Soap thinks his eyes are deceiving him so he rubs them. Ah fuck- his hands had soap on them. Fuckfuckfuck. He rinses his eyes out and then looks over at Ghosts arse again. No, that's definitely a tattoo of a bite, a nasty one too. Like someone just tried to get as much as his arse cheek in his mouth at once.
Soap jabs Gaz in the ribs, "What the fuck?" Gaz hissed but Soap redirects his attention.
"Do you see that?'
"Ghosts ass? Yes I've seen it before." Gaz replies but Soap shakes his head.
"No you dumb fuck, look closer."
Gaz squints and gasps. "Oh my God."
Soap grins at him, "I know. Hold on, I'm gonna ask him about it."
"Soap-"
"Hey LT." Ghost turns his head, a single brow raised. Soap had never been more grateful that Ghost had decided to suck up the communal showers. For both this moment and not having to deal with the vague smell of his BO on the flight back to the U.K. “What's with the new tattoo?”
“Yeah my girl’s a biter.” It's said so simply, Ghost turns and resumes washing himself. The soap suds run down his body and into the drain. Like he didn’t just say the most confusing shite ever.
“What?” Gaz laughs, “A biter?” Ghost shrugs and it dawns on Soap that he’s going to pull that classic Ghost move of saying out of pocket shite ever and then not elaborate.
A few months pass and Soap would like to say that he’s forgotten about it. That the bite mark tattoo did not haunt him and he didn’t- doesn’t- look at Ghost’s left butt cheek and wonder. Then they get a new mission and its all hands on deck, another task force joins in. Task force Medea. The 141 had worked with them a few times in the past, all very successful missions. The Medea task force was made up of seven women with varying skills but one always came to mind whenever Soap thought of the task force his mind wandered to She-wolf.
You’re wild, feral almost to a degree that makes him wonder how you managed to stay in the military. But your team members love you and when you’re not gnawing at the collar your captain tries to keep on you, you’re an amazing soldier.
“For this mission,” Price begins, standing at the head of the meeting table. On one side is Gaz, Ghost, and him. On the other is you and three other members of your task force (Viper, Circe and Artemis). Soap splits his attention between Price’s briefing (A terrorist group and cartel are working together to smuggle both weapons and people across the Polish and the Slovakian border) and you. You’re tapping your finger inaudibly, you keep glancing between Price and Ghost.
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Despite having worked with you before, Soap tends to forget the gruesome details. Viper and Circe were brutal in their own right, both combining their skills to gas out anyone in the building, Artemis and Ghost picked off the ones that fled. Now it was down to you and Soap to help clear out the building of any stragglers. Soap knew he was good at clearing rooms, it's how he got his call sign after all. But much like your call sign, you were a wolf. Predatory, sneaky and brutal. If you were a dog, he was sure you would be foaming at the mouth.
Soap tries not to focus on the gory details of your current appearance, (blood flecks on your face, hands soaked with blood after you gutted a man twice your size like a fish, blood smears on your pant legs from a man choking on his own blood and grasping for any sort of life line while you sneer at him), and instead clearing out the last room. 
“Steamin’ jesus.” Soap mutters and Gaz noticeably averts his eyes. Ghost, however, sighs.
“Lieutenant.” You chirp as Viper hands you something to clean your face with.
“Do you ever not make a mess She-Wolf?” Ghost asks and you bark out a laugh as you wipe the dried blood from your face.
“Nope.” You quip as he just sighs and Soap turns his attention to Gaz who is certainly not looking like he was enjoying this any more then he was.
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Your fingers dig into his pecs as you pant, your thighs, already sore from the mission, scream. “Did you like seeing me like that?” You ask between pants as you bounce on Ghost’s thick cock. You swear you can feel every detail of it, the veins rubbing against your walls, his tip constantly swiping against your g-spot and the very weight of him. “Did you like seeing me covered in blood?” You ask again as his hands dig into the meat of your hips. You stare down into his eyes that are swallowed up by his blown out pupils as he nods, a whimper crawls up his throat as your nails dig into him further.
You lean over and scrape your teeth against the junction between his shoulder and neck, you revel in the way he shudders. You bite down right as the thread snaps inside you and you gush all over his cock. Your moan around him as your pussy pulses rhythmically around him, your hips slow only for a moment. Instead you grind your hips against his as the last few shocks of your orgasm echo through your body. Ghost doesn’t move as you ravish him further in marks all over him. You love that about him, that no one will know these marks are here but you. He covers himself up a nun and only you know that he’s under you every time.
Only you know that his voice cracks and he throws his head back as he fills you. “Fuuuckkk.” He whimpers, his voice cracking and breaking. Only you know this view, of tears nearly spilling from his eyes as his chest rises and falls faster as you push him further towards overstimulation. When your hips finally stop you collapse onto his chest, he holds you close as you trace the multitude of bite marks and crescent nail marks.
“Wish we got to see each other more often.” You whisper.
“We’ll see each other when leave comes around.” Ghost- Simon, reassures you.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that little tattoo you have.” You tease and pinch his vulnerable nipple. He hisses and smacks your hand away while you giggle.
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