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#her voice could lull me to sleep
breadtheft1796 · 1 month
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gloria obianyo | these days all i have is music to keep me anchored, 30.03.2024
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widevibratobitch · 3 months
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yeah sex is cool but have you ever taken a nap in the early afternoon while cuddling with your cat with your favourite true crime podcast playing softly in the background and woken up when its still light outside?
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alastor-simp · 4 months
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Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap
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Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!
Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.
You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.
Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.
**2 Hours Later**
As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.
Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.
Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.
Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.
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donatellawritings · 2 months
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i think if rafe was dating a girl who had a oral fixation he would let her suck his dick or fingers to get rid of the habit of her putting other things in her mouth 🎀
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you couldn’t help that you’d subconsciously end up with things in your mouth — whether you were biting down into chewy skin of your plump bottom lips, or mindlessly chewing on your acrylic nails, it kept your mind preoccupied. despite being a catalyst for all things pure and kind, you had your fair share of anxious moments, more often than not. rafe had caught on to how you’d bite the skin of your inner cheek when you were deep on thought, or how the tip of your cocktail straw would be left mauled from the onslaught of your sharp teeth, way after you’d finished your drink. i mean, he was even painfully aware to how you’d grind your teeth while you slept.
rafe lazily scratched at your scalp as the two of you laid on the bed, the morning news playing lowly from the tv as you laid with your head against rafe’s bare chest. a small yawn escaped your lips as you brought your thumb to your mouth, setting your acrylic nail between your top and bottom set of teeth. your lightly scraped your teeth against your nail for a few seconds, before the sensation of rafe’s hand patting your bare ass, ripped you from your trance.
“cut it out, y’gonna mess up those pretty nails,” he scolded blankly, pressing his lips to the top of your messy bedhead as he gently pulled your thumb from your overly eager mouth, earning a low huff from you, “i dunno why you get your nails done, just to fuck them up,” he comments, raising your hand to his view as he carefully examine the now chipped gel polish that was scraped from your nail.
you sighed sleepily with a curt shrug, “i get these, so i don’t bite my actual nails — it hurts if i bite too deep, papi” you mumbled, your curling closer into rafe’s side with a mischievous smirk, before softly biting into his chest. your sweet laugh vibrated against rafe’s skin as you bit into him once more, smiling cheesily at the sight of of your teeth imprint in his smooth golden skin.
rafe waits until you finish your assault on his chest, random hisses coming from him as you bite down harder and harder into his skin, nearly drawing blood, “a’ight mama, y’gonna make me bleed” he sighs, bringing his hand to comfortably grab ahold of your jaw, your swollen lips stretched into a giddy smile as rafe glances at your lips, seeing how you’ve nearly chewed them raw. “we gotta get you some gum or some shit, you’re always chewing on something,” he decides, lightly mushing your cheeks together with his barely-there grip on your jaw.
with a shrug, you pulled your face out of rafe’s hold, grabbing ahold of two of his long fingers as you glanced at your boyfriend with needy eyes, parting your pouty lips as you licked a long wet stripe up his fingers. rafe watched closely through hooded eyes as you continued licking at him, before he decided to speak. fuck, you could bring this man to his knees and you didn’t even realize it.
“y’want my fingers in your mouth, princess?” he asked, his voice carrying a condescending tone as you nodded furiously, eager to suck on rafe’s rings. your wet cunt ached at the thought of your tongue lazily lapping at his gold ring. rafe gently tapped your jaw, allowing you to open your wet and inviting mouth as he slid his fingers onto your tongue, allowing your slick, spit-covered lips to close around his signet ring.
now content, you hummed happily as you laid back against rafe’s chest, his fingers remained in your warm mouth as you allowed your preoccupied mind to rest. every now and again, you’d lazily suckle and nibble at the tips of his fingers as you lulled yourself into a mild sleep. rafe attempted to pull his fingers from your mouth, once he assumed you were asleep, earning a displeased groan from you as you snuggled yourself further against him.
pressing a kiss to the top of your head, rafe let out a sigh of defeat into your messy hair, “hopefully that puts your ass to sleep, y’been at it all morning,” he commented, making a mental note to ask if you’d rather keep his cock in your mouth when you woke up.
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sainzproductions · 6 months
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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳
THE OTHER WOMAN / SEQUEL !
where you acclimate to the current dating scene after eight years of being with carlos...
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liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others
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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
You felt like you had done a good job all by yourself. You took your sweet time getting used to being alone again, having spent the better part of the past decade accompanying carlos and living together with him.
As embarassing as it was to admit, there were days where you'd wake up abruptly as if hearing his footsteps, or the faint rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep. There were moments where you'd break down crying upon seeing an article of clothing belonging to carlos, or seeing pictures when you were still happily together.
It wasn't easy to forget an eight year relationship. You soon realized. He was all you've ever known and adored... You dreamt a life with the guy for crying out out loud!
You wanted all the permanent things, the domestic future, him.
But the reality was that you were different people who wanted starkly different things in life. Carlos was set on his career while you had the burden of being a woman. You didn't have forever to waste away, and you didn't want to spend it waiting for a future that could never be in the stars for you and him.
You had accepted it. It wasn't all tears, and tearful reminiscing anyways. Your life had picked up after a couple of weeks. It was a lie. You spent a month and a half being pathetic. But who was counting?
You were having the time of your life. Your singleness provided a way for you to realize new and old hobbies.
You finally went back to your hometown, despite your fears of facing your parents' knowing looks and getting an ill timed i told you so's from their ever skeptic way of seeing life. Especially your relationship with Carlos..
But your mother took one look at you; in your deshieveled and devastated form, wordlessly opening her arms and craddling your pathetic self as you wept about your broken heart.
You found peace in the tranquility of your childhood home. Reacquainting yourself with your horse, champion whom you had been neglecting— you realize belatedly. The help couldn't take the horses out that much, where you formerly took the stallion out for most of the day. You made sure to make up for lost time however.
You were also able to rekindle old friendships, quickly becoming fast friends once again as if no time had passed at all. You traipsed all over Madrid, enjoying the thrill of meeting new people, of learning new things... And how forward the current dating scene seemed to be in regards to matters concerning...
"Wait, wait." You press a hand towards his broad chest, breathing roughly. Your chest rose and fell with excitement as you tried to come down from how fast the things had quickly become heated between the two of you. "We're going a bit too fast, don't you think?" You whine under your breath, as his face came down to press open mouthed kisses on your neck, easily finding your most sensitive spot as he expertly manouvers your body, backing you up against the wall.
"Relax. We won't do anything you don't want." He says, softening his tone, "I'm not a hooligan." He tuts, pressing a feather like kiss on the side of your lips.
"Says the man who pulled me into a dark room to play tonsil tennis." You retort amusedly, stroking your fingers on his neck. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the sensation of his lips against your skin, his fingers making quick work of slipping under your skirt, and you hissed from the sensation of his cold rings against your thighs, "You're cold!"
"Warm me up then, love." He was evidently amused by your reactions and the way your cheeks flushed at his crude remark. He wiped away every other thought from your mind, as he kisses you wantonly. He made sure to hold your gaze as he pulls away, sinking down to his knees... and kissing your thighs softly. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I couldn't think of anything else when you walked into the room. Nobody else mattered but you... you're bad for my business, darling."
You could hardly register anything else after that
↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
The breakup came with the long forgotten territory of male attention. Sure, there were some bold and uncaring lads few and far between, but Carlos had quickly shut down every attempt with a swift glare and a possesive hand over you. You didn't mind. You only needed him and his attention and everyone else were merely annoying backnoise.
As it is, your breakup was made public through the urging of Carlos' management and his public relations team. You cooperated seamlessly despite being civil, to the point of rudeness, to their every demand.
How ironic was it that through his blatant act of wanting to separate himself from you and everything else that had to do with you; he made a declaration to the world that you were readily available.
Your dms were sure packed to the brim when you'd later had the energy to do anything asides from the basic tasks of taking care of yourself. You couldn't laugh nor cry upon seeing several of carlos' work acquaintances making their presence known in your dms. You even saw his former (and possibly current) teammates taking their shot.
You couldn't help but wonder for how long has he been... Non committal towards his best mates about your real score. They couldn't possibly muster up the courage had it been the true duration of your separation. Men aren't that proactive. They atleast had some base sense of loyalty.
Then again, it didn't take very long for him to be spotted with some model on his arm. He looked happy, invigorated... Annoyingly handsome. Fuck him and his perfect face. You wished you atleast threw a heel at him for being a dickwad.
Were you seeing other people out of spite or trying to prove yourself to him? You wouldn't exactly say so. You'd had an agreement with the well established, and good looking gentleman who had made you tremble and writhe under his tongue. He was incredibly lax and cool, and great company in every sense of the word. He made you laugh, he also made you cry just now.
And so while you made yourselves look presentable, you were first out the door while he waited a few minutes to make his entrance into the party again. You gratefully took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, wetting your parched throat as you looked around as normally as you could. Blending in with the fancy people in their cocktail dresses and designers.
You heard footsteps approaching after a few moments. Another man spotted him, and he grinned in recognition upon the sight of the ever famous....
"Sir Hamilton!"
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whateveriwant · 5 months
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Hello, i hope you dont mind if i request agian! Could I get TF141 with an S/O who are just super prone to panic attack?
These are not meant to be taken as mental health advice. I'm just playing around here <3
Soap
The first time it happened, he didn't know what was going on. The sudden heavy breathing, the tremors, the loss of speech; he thought you were dying, honestly
It nearly sent him into a panic as he tried to figure out what he could do to help. Should you stay put or should you be taken to hospital? He just didn't know
However, once it had passed and you were able to better explain the situation, Soap was pulling you into a hug, the biggest breath of relief escaping him knowing you were going to be alright
He wasn't “happy” per se to learn this is something you struggle with regularly, but knowing there's at least something he could do to help in the future put his mind at ease
Nowadays he's got the drill down pat, so when he sees the signs an attack is incoming, he's whisking you to a safe environment where you can attempt to de-stress
Oftentimes it leads to him sitting beside you out on a curb somewhere, his warm hand rubbing soft circles into your back as he comforts you through it
Gaz
From the second he notices you start to pull away from him, Gaz is immediately on top of it, deploying a technique he's quite familiar with
“Tell me five things you can see,” he says, unbothered by having to repeat himself when you don't respond because he did not seriously just ask you that right now
But after enough prompting by him, you shakily list out five items, wet eyes darting around the room as you try to take stock of your surroundings
Once you do as bid, he'll continue, “Now four things you can hear.” And now you're starting to think you see where he's going with this
He'll work his way through all five senses, counting down to one, and once he reaches the final, you find that your pulse has slowed tremendously and your tremor has stopped entirely
Afterwards, you give him a shy thanks, asking how he knew that would work. “Simple,” he tells you. “Used to do it with my sister when we were young. It helped her then, so I thought it might help you now.”
Price
He takes the most heavy handed approach when trying to bring you down from such a rocky high. And while some people might find it smothering, you just see it as grounding
“Hey. Look at me,” his order is firm though his voice remains purposefully gentle. “Don't look anywhere else, just look at me. That's it. Just focus on me.”
If he has to, he'll even push a finger against your chin until you're meeting his eye and holding it, trying to focus on his soothing words instead of the anxious thoughts racing through your head
Slowly and deliberately, he'll breathe in through his nose then out through his mouth, guiding you to follow along with his measured pattern
If that's still not enough, he'll then take your hand beneath his and hold it over his heart, letting its strong, steady rhythm lull you back to a calmer state
“You alright?” he questions once you've settled down again. When you nod and assure him you are, he'll kiss your temple, promising, “I've got you, dear. Always.”
Ghost
When he realized what was happening with you, he quickly jumped into action, but in a way that was completely unexpected
“Remember when you first took me out for sushi and I didn't know wasabi was hot?” he asks you seemingly out of the blue. “Ate a whole spoonful before I realized. Burned like hell going down. But that was nothin’ compared to when it came out again later.”
The memory of that night stirs to life in your mind, and through your rapid breaths and trembling lips, you're able to crack the barest of smiles
He continues, “Or remember when I got sprayed by that skunk in the garden? You made me sleep on the couch for three days. Said I smelled like a garbage bin’s arsehole.”
That memory has you huffing out a short, low chuckle, and though you don't notice it, your pulse begins to hammer a little slower
And so he keeps going, distracting you with funny memories and personal anecdotes until all you're doing is smiling and laughing brightly, totally forgetting what had made you panic in the first place
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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months
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This Broken Body
Alastor x GN!Reader
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A/N: Kind of a part two of ‘Shedding Season’ but with Reader
TW:Broken bones, blood and use of medical drugs
After getting off work you meet some unfortunate people who were after your boss but turned their attacks to you instead. Luckily you have a very powerful Overlord who is protective over you.
You shook your head as you limped into the Hotel trying to fight off your exhaustion and how your vision wanted to fade out. The adrenaline was wearing off faster than you wished now you could feel how you could barely put pressure on your left leg. Blinking you watched as Charlie ran over to you,her hand accidentally applying pressure on your side causing you to yelp loudly and fall backwards onto your ass. Why could you taste blood? Why was the room spinning? Why did Charlie have horns and why was Alastor there? So many questions that got left unanswered as your vision went black and you promptly passed out on the floor of the foyer.
When you woke up you were groggy and whining from the pain but you could hear light jazz play, looking around you were in your bedroom but Alastor had made his presence known with him humming along to the tune, carefully sewing your favorite jacket back up, his eyes glancing at you for a moment. “Sleep well?” He asked softly as if not to scare you but you still jumped as your groggy mind was slipping in and out of sleep. “Yeah…What happened, Al?” You slurred out internally grimacing from how you sounded.
“You passed out in the foyer, Dear. I’m wondering the same thing as Charlie, you have the poor girl in a tizzy.”  He hummed out looking back at the now sewn hole in your favorite jacket. Your lucky jacket as you would call it. He ran his fingers across the familiar pattern of the little microphone you had hand sewn for him. “Got jumped after work..” You called out whimpering as you tried to move. Immediately he was by your side moving a pillow under your leg that was now in a cast and helped you get comfortable. 
“Now, no need to move your leg needs to heal as well as your ribs.” He hummed out, he’ll be feasting on the ribs of those who hurt his doe to this degree. “Sorry Al...Sorry you have to see this broken and weak body.” You whimpered out tearing up. His undead heart squeezed at the sight of tears in your eyes, his clawed hands carefully wiping them away. “No, you’re not weak, Dear. You’re as strong as can be, a wolf amongst these sheep.” A tired smile graced your busted lip letting out a low chuckle. 
“I won’t stop you from going after the people who jumped me, Al..but just come back to me?” At those words his heart skipped a beat and with a kiss to the head, he whispered “Always Dear~” Before he melted into the shadows to go find those poor unfortunate souls who decided to prey on you. No one messes with the Radio Demon’s Partner and gets away with it. As you were drifting to sleep thanks to the medication Charlie had thankfully gotten for you as well as some soup in your stomach, the radio that sat on your dresser turned on with a loud ear piercing screech Alastor’s voice cutting through as he welcomed everyone to a new and exciting broadcast, you tuned out of most of your beloved’s dialogue but shook back awake hearing screams of the sinners who had jumped you. Their begs falling on deaf ears as meat was ripped from bones and bones snapped easily.
And then as soon as it started the broadcast had stopped with a soft, “And to my Beloved, rest up now. I’ll be home soon.” Then soft jazz started to play. The same soft jazz that had lulled you to sleep every time he played it.
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moon-rivr · 5 months
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cara mia
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: mostly told from miguel’s pov, mentions of religious guilt, somnophilia, soft sex, unprotected p in v, riding somewhat, pregnancy, and a wee bit of angst (muahahah)
author’s note: i did get inspiration from the addams family for this personality wise but i didn’t use the goth elements (sry)
word count: 4k+
Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre
The prayer had imprinted itself in Miguel's head after countless hours of being on his knees, forcing himself to pretend that he felt the same type of enlightenment as the other people around him. He envied the people at his church, he wished that he could devote himself and his life to God the same way that they did, but he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall every time he prayed.
The gold cross around his neck felt more like a burden than a symbol of salvation, reminding him of what a failure he'd been to himself and his community. Countless hours of bible study that were supposed to provide him with some hope about humanity, provide him some clarity about his existence and role in the world, only gave him headaches and more questions.
The day that Gabriella was taken away from him, he selfishly prayed in his head that everything would be okay. He knew that it was wrong to pray only when he needed something, but he needed for something to be out of his control for once. "Por favor no te me lleves a mi hija, Diosito. Ella tiene toda su vida por delante. Te lo suplico," he spoke in his mind, hoping that God would listen to him. that he wouldn't lose the only ray of light in his life. (please don’t take my daughter away from me, God. she has her entire life ahead of her. i plead you)
"Please daddy!" Gabriella’s voice clouded his mind as she faded away into nothing, the buildings around them collapsing into pure ash. He cursed God for not listening to him as he fell to the ground on his knees, his head dropped. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hands, having just the remainder of what was. Peter had rushed to his side, attempting to get him to stand up before the universe faded into nothing but everything inside Miguel hurt. He felt like his limbs were 50 pound weights as he stepped into the portal to go back home, the reminders of his selfishness lingering.
Devotion had never come easy to Miguel, whether it be to an entity or to a thing, but you were the only exception to that rule. He wasn't sure if you'd done it out of sympathy after seeing his weakened state or if you were just simply doing your job as a barista, but you had given him a free bagel with his coffee one day. "I know this probably won't help much, but you look like you need it," you told him once you handed him the small bag and coffee cup.
Miguel didn't answer you, his mouth felt like sandpaper every minute of the day, but he appreciated the small act of kindness you'd shown him. You didn't even have to ask him for his order, making him the cup out of memory. He felt people's stares on him as he walked to one of the tables, their noses scrunching up from his body odor. He hadn't had the energy to come out of his room, but he decided to take the healing journey step by step.
He wasn't sure of when was the last time he took a shower was but he was certain that it must've been a while with the way that everybody scooted their chairs to be further away from him. He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip from it as he tried to will himself to swallow it. The coffee beans tasted like wet mud as they went down his throat, the walls of his throat constricting. He eventually gave up on trying to drink the coffee, placing his head down on the table as he shut his eyes.
The melody in the coffee shop lulled him to sleep after countless hours of staying up, the memories of Gabriella ringing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure of how long he had fallen asleep for, only getting waken up by your soft tapping on his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we're about to close the shop. You're free to come back tomorrow if you want," you spoke and his head shot up, looking out the window to see that the moon was already peeking out from the clouds.
Miguel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as he fished something out of his pocket as a way to make it up to you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you tried to dismiss the bill he was handing you, but he was even more stubborn than you were. You ended up accepting the bill a couple seconds later and he left the coffee shop, feeling like a ship lost at bay. He didn't have anywhere else to call home after he lost Gabriella and his apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. He decided to head back to the HQ, burying his face in work until his exhaustion took place of the pain.
A couple days had passed by when he heard a knock on his office door, Jessica appearing in the doorway. "Miguel, we're worried about you. You haven't exited your office in days and you.. stink. Just take a shower, please," she told him, approaching him the way that one would to a child. The thought of showering just made Miguel want to curl up and burst out crying since the last time he showered was a few moments prior to Gabriella’s last embrace. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her bubble soap on his clothes.
It took Miguel a while to get into the shower and even longer to scrub his body, his skin raw from how hard he'd tried to make the memories fade away. He sat on the shower floor for a couple minutes with his hands buried in his hands, willing himself not to let his tears combine with the running water. He got up on shaky legs, gripping the shower wall as he let the water run through his reddened skin. His talons unsheathed and he looked down at them, wanting to claw at himself until nothing was left.
Jessica had convinced Miguel to go back to the coffee shop after she saw him fawning over your public file, convincing him to try to have a conversation with you. He showed up to the coffee shop the next day, a complete stranger from the man that showed up just a week beforehand. He'd taken a shower and he fixed his unruly curls a bit, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As always, you made his order without him needing to say much but he found himself wanting to talk to you this time around.
"Hi, I'm sorry if this is coming off as weird seeing how you found me sleeping on one of the tables earlier and you saw me in that state, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better if you gave me the opportunity," he said as he came up to the counter once your shift ended, expecting to be found with rejection. "That sounds good. I'll give you my number and you can text me when it works for you," you responded, scribbling down your number on a napkin.
The encounter between the two of you led to more dates and eventually to the two of you getting married a year later. He found himself completely captured by the way you carried yourself around, willing to give you the world if you asked. He'd be willing to lower down the moon at your request, if only to see the smile on your face. But what he loved the most was the fact that you didn't ask him for the moon, you simply asked for his love in exchange for yours. Loving you felt so simple to him, something as easy as taking a breath.
Miguel glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, letting out a small groan as he looked down at the tent in his sleep pants. He knew he couldn't control himself around you, just having you around made his cock twitch, but he'd never will himself to be too far from you. He glanced back at your sleeping form, seeing the way that your sleep gown bunched up around your thighs. He saw your glistening cunt through the small crack of sunlight peeking through the window, his willpower breaking down.
He spread your legs gently, pushing your nightgown up to your stomach as he pushed his cock in. Your tight walls engulfed him instantly and he had to resist letting out a moan so as to not wake you. Your pussy was practically gushing around his cock as he bottomed out, sucking him deeper. He slowly retracted his cock before pushing it back inside, watching as you stirred in your sleep. His hand came up to your breast, cupping it through the lace material of your gown. He leaned in, sucking your nipple through the material as his tongue rolled over the nub.
His hips rolled slowly as he gripped your thighs for some kind of balance, making sure that you weren't stirring too much in your sleep. While he had a desire to satiate, he'd never be that selfish to wake you up in order to fulfill his needs. "You're all wet for me even in your dreams, corazón," he murmured, his talons drawing small lazy circles on your thighs. He brought his hands up to your front, punching and pulling at your nipples while his cock pushed in and out of you.
"Morning Miguel, did you sleep good?" You asked him, tilting your head to the side to look at him with a small smile on your face. "Cada dia que me despierto siendo tu marido es bueno para mi, cara mia. I'm sorry for waking you up," he responded, his cheeks burning a bit at the prospect of bothering you. God, he'd never be able to get enough of you at this point. Even with the darkened curtains, a slimmer of light managed to peel through as it illuminated your face in an almost angelic halo. (every day that i wake up as your husband is good for me, my darling)
"What's got you all needy, Miguelito?" You inquired, rolling over on top of him as your night gown flowed over your legs. "You, it's always you," he whispered, his hands coming up to your breasts as you slowly sunk onto his cock. You let out a small groan as you felt your wetness dripping onto your thighs and his, the access proving to be much easier. You slowly moved up and down his cock, your tight walls engulfing around him without any remorse. He thought he could die happy like this, engulfed by you and the love combined between you two.
His hips moved upwards, assisting you with the rhythm as he sat up straight, his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly began to place small bites on your collarbone and shoulders, marking you as his. With every mark that he left on your skin, it felt like he was tattooing yourself into your life. Making himself known even if he wasn't present. The pace between the two of you wasn't rushed or rough, it was simply just enjoying the company of each other and being in each other's arms.
"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant, cara mia. Think about how lovely our kids would be, just a reflection of the devotion I feel for you," he murmured into your skin, his fangs gently grazing against your neck. "Get me pregnant, Miguel. I want everybody to look at us and just see how in love we are," you responded, your walls clenching around his cock just as a security measure. His thrusts got sloppier as he approached his orgasm, his fingers coming down to your clit to help you through yours. His mouth was swirling around your nipples, licking and sucking at the hardened breast while his other hand played with your other one.
Your orgasm approached you rather quickly, your back arching as your breath hitched from the intensity. Your deep breaths filled the room as Miguel's hips moved into you, fucking you through your orgasm and his. He came a couple seconds after you, the tip of his cock pushing the cum into your cervix just to make sure it would take. You rolled over to your side, your arms still wrapped around Miguel's neck as the two of you started to come down from that euphoria. His fingers stroked small circles on your back as his mouth came down to press a kiss on your forehead.
You ended up taking a shower after that, though the two of you didn't like to have sex in there since it could get slippery quick. That didn't stop Miguel from lathering soap all over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, thighs, and the globes of your ass. He gestured for you to jump and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking everywhere he hadn't gotten the chance to earlier.
"I just wanna appreciate you like the work of art you are but you make it so hard when you look at me like that," he told you, leaving a bite on top of your breasts as his eyes locked on you. "Like what?" You looked over at him with doe eyes, your lashes fluttering with the water hitting them. He let out a small chuckle, turning off the water faucet before he carried you out the shower. "Miguel, you're making a mess!" You exclaimed in between little giggles as you held onto him. "Apologies," he offered, wrapping you up in a towel like a burrito without paying much regard to his own dripping stature.
As the two of you got out of your shared shower, LYLA appeared in front of Miguel making him let out a small grumble. "Good morning! You need to be in HQ at approximately ten in order to get all your paperwork done," she announced, her voice chirpy as she spoke. "Tell them I'm dead," he muttered, waving LYLA away as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. "While I would love to do that, you used that excuse about two weeks ago," LYLA responded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Miguel.
Miguel let out a small scoff as he buried his face into your neck, his large hands splayed on your stomach. "Then tell them I'm spending time with my wife today. You're in charge," he told her, shooing her off for the last time before he gave you the opportunity to finish up getting moisturized. "I wouldn't recommend getting dressed, cariño. You won't be needing clothes today," he told you as you stepped back into the bedroom, beckoning you back into the bed.
The day was spent having lazy sex on almost every corner of the house, determination evident in his features to have his sperm take. He had his way with you on the bed, in front of the mirror that was in the bathroom, the kitchen counter while you two were waiting for lunch, and the couch when you put on a show for some background noise.
"Every time I think I can't love you more, you just prove me wrong," he whispered into your ear as he stroked your back lazily, his softening cock warming up your cunt. The love he felt towards you seemed to practically seep out his pores with the way that he treated you. "Becoming your wife has been one of the greatest experiences ever. Thank you for allowing me to love you, Miguel," you murmured, your hand lazily running through his curls.
A couple of weeks passed by when you came to the realization that you'd missed your period for the last month and the food that normally had you salivating was making you gag at just the mere sight of it. You hadn't been expecting for the sperm to take so easily after your previous doctors had described a problem with your uterus, but you couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of having a child with Miguel. You stopped by the drugstore near your house, getting a few pregnancy tests just in case.
You practically gulped the bottle of water you'd taken with you to the bathroom, waiting until you felt that urge. It took a couple minutes before you were ready to pee on the tests, and it would take even longer for the results to come out. You washed your hands and looked up at the mirror, picturing yourself swollen with the product of you and Miguel's adoration inside. The timer on your phone made you jump after being in your head for ten minutes, turning it off before you looked at the results. Pregnant.
You decided to go surprise Miguel at HQ since you felt like you were practically bursting out with excitement and you didn't trust yourself to keep it a secret for too long. It took you a while to arrive since it's in the middle of Nueva York and it was lunch hour, but even the stench of the subway couldn't deter your happiness. You were instantly greeted with smiles as you walked into the HQ, most of the members being people you recognized. You took the opportunity to go pet the cat and greet Lego Spider-Man before heading up to Miguel's office.
"¡Hijos de su puta madre! How many shocking times do I have to say that you don't free the anomalies to even out your little basketball team?!" Miguel's voice boomed from his office, clear to your ears outside. You knocked on the door before stepping in, seeing Miguel's demeanor completely change as he looked at you. "Just go, we'll finish this later," he told the group of teenagers and they all scattered away quickly.
You walked up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be so hard on them, you know? It's not good for your stress levels either," you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I know, mi vida. But they just make it so hard not to get pissed off," he mumbled, resting his head on the crook of your neck. "Well you're gonna have to control that because soon enough, you'll have a little one that needs their daddy for a long time," you responded, dropping the subtle hint and his head shot up immediately.
"You're not messing around with me or anything right?" He asked, his hands around your waist as he looked down at you. You took the ziploc baggie holding the pregnancy test inside, handing it over to him. "Ay mi amor. You don't know how happy it makes me to be able to have a kid with you," he spoke, littering small kisses on your face as he held you close to him. He took a couple minutes to allow for you to enjoy the news before he started going into an overprotective mode, finding the best ob-gyn nearby.
Though Miguel had multiple responsibilities towards the multiverse and to maintaining the safety of the city, he still accompanied you to the first appointment. "You know we'll have plenty of these, so you don't need to come," you told him, but he shook his head as he opened the door for you at the clinic. "I refuse to miss out on anything important, mi amor. The multiverse will hopefully still be intact while I get back," he responded, guiding you towards one of the chairs.
Your eyes drifted to the women sitting in the lobby, some of them distraught with the news of what's growing inside of them while others were crying out of joy. What you couldn't help but notice though, was that most of them were alone as they waited. You'd never felt so appreciative towards Miguel than in this moment and you couldn't help the tears that began coating your eyes.
"What's wrong?" Miguel asked, immediately concerned as he looked at you. "I just feel so lucky being here with you, I'm sorry. It's funny, I got scared when this whole thing happened, since y'know, we have no idea how to be parents but just having you by my side is gonna make this okay," you rambled, wiping away at the tears rolling down your cheeks.
He kissed your forehead as he held your hand, waiting for your name to be called. "Do you want me to come in?" He asked before you nodded, walking with him to the room. He held your hand throughout the whole process while the doctor basically went through some of the dangers you'd possibly be going through with this pregnancy. The baby seemed to be growing fine, though, the size of a raspberry at this stage.
You had quit your job at the coffee shop a little while after getting married to Miguel, so having time to rest wasn't too big of an issue for you. You'd busied yourself with attempting to knit clothes for the baby, your fingers covered with small indents from the needle. "You don't have to do that, you know we have more than enough money to buy baby clothes," he assured you when he saw you crying after a onesie ended up with only one foot sleeve. You eventually got better at it as the time went by, the onesies even having small designs on them.
Though the next nine months hadn't been a walk in the park, they were all the more tolerable having Miguel by your side. He didn't care if you had to wake up at 4 in the morning to satiate your cravings for pickles, even joining you sometimes. He didn't mind carrying you around the house when your ankles felt too swollen to even stand on. He just loved seeing you practically glowing with his love, the pregnancy making you look all the more gorgeous no matter what you said.
The birth was supposed to be an easy process but Miguel could feel that something was wrong as he waited in the lobby with the other expecting fathers. The nurses came over to him, giving him the grim news that you were hemorrhaging but assuring him that they were doing everything in their power. Their words eventually became garbled as a white noise ran through his mind, a pain that he could feel in his soul at the thought of being without you coating his body completely.
Miguel dropped to his knees at the small chapel in the hospital that night, all the different prayers melting into one as he tried to get the words out. His knees were scraped raw as they rubbed against the cold concrete, a well fitting punishment in his opinion for his time apart from the church. He clamped the cross around his neck, holding it as a safe haven before he pressed his hands together, starting with a prayer the best way he knew how.
He started off by thanking God for everything he'd given him, even if he felt like nothing was worth thanking for at the moment. He pushed the feelings of betrayal deep down, knowing that they were completely unprecedented as a non-practicing Catholic. Later, he prayed for you. Not for himself, no. But for you, to get better so you could continue to bless his life with your presence and bless the life of your child together. He continued with this viscous cycle of praying until the sun came up, talking to the plastic cross in a hospital chapel.
The baby was discharged a few days later and while Miguel had everything to take care of it, he felt unprepared. As Miguel held the sleeping baby in his arms, he felt like a part of him was ripped out at your absence. The baby proved as a symbol of his love and devotion for you, though. He tried to be strong for the baby, he really did, but his emotions were starting to bubble up in the bottle he'd stuffed them in. He set the baby down in its crib, looking over at your collection of dresses in the closet as he brought them to his nose, your perfume hitting him instantly. He knew that you were in the hospital recovering, but his heart ached to feel your warmth, laughter, and love again.
The corners of his eyes prickled with salty, warm tears as he cut away the petals from the roses you'd ordered just a week ago. His nose was running from his allergies, but he refused to ask for help with such a mundane task. He refused to let your presence from the home fade out, taking care of everything you would've done along with his own responsibilities. He sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to comply with what he'd told God while he was in the hospital. That he'd start praying again as long as you were okay. He’d be willing to put himself through the process of talking to what he deemed as a wall just for you.
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angelshimaa · 6 months
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━━ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, angst + comfort (bc y'all asked nicely), reader cries a little :), it's a part two to this (please read first) !!
✧ a/n :: @ka0ila & @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory + the ppl asked for a pt two, so here it is !!
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“you're late.”
you nearly jump at the voice, not expecting any sounds to come from the dark place, way too cold to call home. you only note the laziness of his words, and how deeply they come from him.
it's past his bedtime, and he's exhausted. the hurt part of you hates how deeply his mannerisms are engraved into your mind.
you walk towards the stairs, determined to make it to bed without sharing a singular word with him. it's then when you see his figure sitting right there, blocking your path.
“where were you?” the red of bakugou's eyes is tinted darker, more bloodshot as he looks at you. you hope your own aren't as red after having cried your soul out at mina's. you half wish you'd accepted her offer to crash there for the night, for you didn't know how exactly this night could go.
“away from you. isn't that what you wanted?”
the response nips at him and he remembers the words he'd spat at you. you watch how he plays with his hands, smoothing over the rough skin and the thought is almost hilarious— he looked nervous.
“i— i didn't mean it, y/n. any of it. i was angry— and i'm sorry.”
while you were burning in hurt and rage and bitterness and overwhelming sorrow as mina hugged you, you'd listened to your heart beg him for an apology. and now, after it being thrown out, it doesn't hold the same weight as you'd like.
“until when, bakugou?” he winces at the use of his last name— he was never ‘bakugou’ to you. “you're sorry until something goes wrong at work again? you're sorry until i ‘start yapping' again? until you can't stand to look at my face?”
while he can't look you in the eyes anymore, let alone answer you, you feel the lump in your throat solidify.
“move out of the way, bakugou. i need sleep.”
you climb up a step, and the only movement bakugou makes is to stand up.
“y/n, please. please— stay.” the fragility makes itself known in both your voices and you're too tired— your heart is too heavy to fight, to protest.
“ba— katsuki, i'm tired. you yank me about at your will, and i'm so tired. all i've done is stay— endure— and all it has gotten me is here.”
he inhales sharply at the sorrow in how you say his name and it shatters him to see just how hopeless you look— all because he can't keep his damn temper in check.
“i'm sorry. please, i'll— i'll do anything— just don't leave. i'll get help, i'll come home earlier— i'll listen. just, one more chance, please.”
moments pass and the tears well up looking at his face, the prettiest face you've ever laid your eyes on. it pricks at you, watching him ask so softly.
you're weak, and you're so helplessly in love with him.
“i only have one more chance in me to give.”
bakugou exhales, moving slowly toward you. it's when you feel his arms wrap around you for a hug, that you feel your muscles ease up for the first time in so long. your own arms wrap around him, hands grasping at the back of his shirt, and he clings onto you like his life depends on it.
the smell of him— of home— is what causes the tears to finally fall. his shirt catches them and you nuzzle more into him, the thought of letting go seeming unfathomable. you can't remember the last time he'd touched you, let alone held you so close, but you try and hold onto what it feels like. what being at home feels like.
katsuki shuts his eyes, keeping his tears in. as he whispers his apology, he swears to himself he'll never make you cry so much again.
it's the sound of his heartbeat that stops your tears and lulls you to peace, and the warmth seeps back into your home that allows your broken hearts to mend in silence.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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ddejavvu · 4 months
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Omg! I saw that fic you wrote based on friends tv series and i love it! Its so freaking cute!! Reading that fic remind me of another scene of friends tv series if you dont mind writing it?
Where chandler is having a bath and everyone just comes in at one point and start having conversations in the bathroom.
Maybe reader is like the therapist of the group and everyone wants her opinion on smtg and while reader is taking a bath, one by one just starting to enter and start having conversations with her and the rest until one of marauders (reader’s bf) start shooing everyone out so reader could have a peaceful bath?
i changed this a teeny bit, i'm sorry! but i've never seen friends so i think that's okay
--
"Y/N," Sirius is the first to interrupt your warm bath with James, meant to soothe his sore muscles after Quidditch practice, and lull you to sleep against his chest. Thankfully, James has poured a liberal amount of strawberry bubble bath into the water, so there's foam up to your necks.
"What's'a matter, Pads?" James answers for you while you try clearing the almost-sleep from your brain, but the man scoffs at him.
"Prongs, no offence, but I need help with makeup. And you're the last person in this castle I'd come to for that."
Before James can make an affronted retort, you pipe up, smoothing a soothing hand on James's thigh beneath the bubbles, "What do you need, Sirius?"
"Black or blue liner?" He shows off his outfit, then the two eyeliner pens in his hand.
"Black," You decide with a wrinkled nose, "Blue doesn't match your earrings."
"Thanks," Sirius grins, tossing the blue pen onto the counter and leaving with the black one, "Oh-! Sorry, Rem, go ahead."
Just when you'd been about to settle back against James's chest, Remus steps in, clearly having run into Sirius on the way out. James groans, but Remus incurs less of his wrath than Sirius often does, the price of becoming siblings as well as brothers.
"I left The Nightingale on your bed," Remus informs you, "Can I take Falling Leaves?"
"The smaller one," You nod, "Not the special edition. Sorry, Rem, I know you're careful, but I can't afford a chocolate stain on it."
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but he'll respect your wishes. After all, he's careful in lending out special editions of his books, too.
"Thanks, Y/N!"
"Remus," James calls at the retreating form of his friend, "Do me a favor: close the door behind you!"
Remus does so, and James hooks an arm around your waist beneath the suds. It's warm and slightly pruned, and you sink into it gladly, reclining once more against his bare chest.
"Now that that's over," He gripes, his hand travelling below your waist, fingers hooking into the pudge of your thighs, "We could..."
"Don't even think about it," You pinch his thigh, just above the dome of his kneecap, ignoring his yelp in response, "This bath is to fix your sore muscles, not make new ones."
"I'm fine," James insists, burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck where fine droplets of water cling to your wispy hairs, "Please, darling, I swear I can-"
"Y/N?" Lily calls, the sweet tone of her voice matching the strawberry scent heavy in the air, "I know you're bathing, I'm sorry, but it'll only take a moment."
James holds his breath, but you use yours to call, "Come in, Lily," And he releases his in a scoff, fingers finally abandoning your thigh.
"I was just wondering if I could borrow your green sweater," Lily hums, politely avoiding any eye contact with James's muscled shoulders as he drapes his arms over the sides of the bathtub.
"G'head, babe," You smile sweetly at her, "You going to Hogsmeade?"
"The whole dorm is," She nods excitedly, "You wanna join?"
You consider it despite James's hand plunging back into the water and latching tight to your hip. Finally you decide, "No, but I might end up joining you if James can't learn to keep his hands to himself."
"Hey!" He tears his hand away from you once more, spilling water over the side of the tub when he finds purchase against the edge, "If you keep letting people barge in here, we won't be able to do anything anyways."
"Excellent point," You nod thoughtfully, and James's exasperated groan brings a smile to Lily's face that she shares giddily with you, "Lily, if you happen to see Professor McGonagall on your way over, send her in."
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kolyasupremanxy · 1 year
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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰/ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫
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𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 , 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 , 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥 , 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 , 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k
𝐀/𝐧: I enjoyed writing this coz i love playing with ppl's hair lol, thanks anon! ANON HUHU SRY I accidentally deleted your request cuz i forgot to schedule it later and it got posted too soon so i deleted it TT. Sorryyy
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—𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚
Chuuya leaned back on the couch, his head resting on his s/o's chest. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh as their fingers played with his hair. It was a feeling he had grown to love, and he couldn't resist the urge to let out a small chuckle.
"You really love playing with my hair, don't you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.
His s/o smiled down at him, their fingers still tangled in his hair. "Of course I do. It's so soft and silky, and it looks amazing when it's styled."
Chuuya couldn't help but feel a little bashful at the compliment, but he was also secretly pleased. He tilted his head back a little further, allowing his s/o better access to his hair.
"You know, you're the only one I let do this," he said, his voice softening.
His s/o's hand stilled for a moment before continuing their gentle strokes. "Really? Why's that?"
Chuuya chuckled. "Because it's just for you. I don't want anyone else touching my hair like this."
His s/o smiled down at him, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I feel honored then."
Chuuya let out a small laugh before tilting his head up to look at his s/o. "You know, I love it when you play with my hair like this. It's so relaxing and calming. It's like you're lulling me to sleep."
His s/o smiled softly at him. "That's the idea. I want you to feel calm and relaxed."
Chuuya closed his eyes again, his breathing steady and calm. He was so comfortable in this position, and he knew he could stay like this forever. He was glad that his s/o loved playing with his hair, and he couldn't imagine anyone else doing it quite like they did.
—𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮
Dazai snuggled closer to his s/o, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He let out a contented sigh, feeling relaxed and at ease in her arms. He loved the way her touch felt against his scalp, the gentle tugs and pulls sending shivers down his spine.
"Your hair is so soft, Dazai," she said, her fingers continuing to run through his hair.
Dazai chuckled. "I'm glad you think so. I've always taken good care of it."
"I can tell," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and affection.
Dazai closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her fingers, letting himself get lost in the moment. He felt safe and happy, knowing that he was loved and cared for. He shifted slightly, snuggling even closer to her and resting his head on her chest.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she continued to play with his hair. Dazai let out another sigh, feeling completely content and at peace.
"Thank you for doing this," he said, his voice soft and quiet.
"For playing with your hair?" she asked.
"For everything," Dazai replied. "For being here for me, for loving me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
His s/o smiled and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I'll always be here for you, Dazai. No matter what."
Dazai smiled and closed his eyes, feeling grateful and blessed to have her in his life. He knew that he could always count on her, and that thought brought him a sense of peace that he had never known before.
—𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥
Nikolai's s/o brushed her fingers through his hair, playing with the long braid that rested on his chest.
Nikolai let out a contented sigh and shifted his head, getting comfortable in his s/o's embrace. "You always know how to make me feel relaxed," he said.
His s/o smiled softly. "Your hair is so soft and nice to play with. It's like running my fingers through silk."
Nikolai chuckled. "I take good care of it. It's important to keep it in good condition."
"I can tell," his s/o replied. "It's always so shiny and smooth."
Nikolai hummed in agreement, enjoying the soothing sensation of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "You know, I never used to let anyone touch my hair like this," he said. "But with you, it feels natural and comforting."
"I'm glad," his s/o said. "I love being close to you like this."
Nikolai closed his eyes and relaxed, savoring the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch. It was moments like this that made him feel truly content and at peace.
—𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲
Fyodor shifted slightly on his s/o's chest, adjusting his position so that he could continue reading comfortably.
His s/o's fingers ran through his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.
"I could do this all day," his s/o said with a contented sigh.
Fyodor opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I wouldn't mind that," he said softly, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside.
His s/o smiled down at him, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. "You have such soft hair, Fyodor," she said.
Fyodor tilted his head back slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. "I'm glad you like it," he said.
His s/o leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead before resuming her ministrations. "It's relaxing, you know?" she said. "Just sitting here with you, playing with your hair."
Fyodor closed his eyes again, letting out a soft hum of agreement. "It is," he said. "I feel...content."
They lay there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company. Fyodor's s/o continued to play with his hair, and he continued to relax into her touch.
Finally, Fyodor spoke up. "Thank you for being here with me," he said.
His s/o looked down at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Always," she said. "I'll always be here for you."
Fyodor reached up and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "I'm grateful for that," he said. "Truly."
—𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚
Sigma was comfortably lying on his s/o's chest, his long hair fanned out around him as his s/o played with the soft strands. He was engrossed in the book he was reading, but he couldn't help but smile contentedly at the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch on his hair. It was one of the many small things he loved about their relationship.
As his s/o continued to play with his hair, Sigma let out a small sigh of contentment. "You know, I could get used to this," he said, glancing up at his s/o with a smile.
His s/o chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. I love playing with your hair."
Sigma closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "It's so relaxing," he murmured. "I feel like I could fall asleep right here."
His s/o laughed again, their fingers continuing to work through the tangles in Sigma's hair. "Well, if you do, I promise to keep you safe," they said teasingly.
Sigma chuckled softly, snuggling closer to his s/o. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, the warmth of his s/o's body seeping into his own.
For a while, the two of them simply lay there in silence, the only sound the turning of pages as Sigma read his book. But eventually, Sigma set his book aside, turning to look up at his s/o with a smile.
"Thank you," he said softly. "For everything. I love you."
His s/o smiled back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Sigma's forehead. "I love you too," they said, their fingers never stopping their gentle movements through Sigma's hair. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
And with those words, Sigma closed his eyes, feeling safe and content in his s/o's arms. He knew that no matter what happened in life, he would always have his s/o by his side, ready to offer comfort and support whenever he needed it. And for that, he was eternally grateful.
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Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.
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The Bard and the Sorceress
summary: Eddie makes up a bedtime story of how your baby was conceived, to your pregnant belly. CW: established relationship, dad!Eddie x pregnant!reader, 'she/her' pronouns used. Brief mentions of a first miscarriage (not graphically described), alluded smut. Let me know if I missed anything! word count: 1.7k
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“Once upon a time, there was a king and a queen… – Wait, no, no, no. A knight and a princess!” 
You giggle, head tilting back against the pillows in delight, as Eddie’s plush lips brush against your skin, as delicate as clouds. He’s gazing at you from his spot by the foot of the bed, with those golden eyes and a dimply grin that rival the sunshine – a combination seen in your dreams, reflected on another tiny being.  
“No, no, no, no, wait, no – a bard and a sorceress…” he winks as he puts on his raspy dungeon master voice and slyly raises his eyebrows.  
“That’s more like it. Alright! – once upon a time, there was a bard and a sorceress, who lived blissfully in their cottage, far out in the forest that surrounded an ancient kingdom…” 
Eddie’s murmurs wrap around your heart like the safest of embraces. His warm breath swirls among the broad expanse of your pregnant belly like the embers of a fire on a cold winter night; his curls caress the stretched skin, like petals falling on a soft bed of grass; his callused fingers trace the stretchmarks and sore spots reverently, trying to make up the outline of the baby that he imagines is sleeping soundly within you. 
Your shared bedroom is bathed in mellow, honeyed light coming from the bedside lamp, as you lay among freshly washed sheets to relax you, and pillows that are perfumed with the heavenly scent of your and Eddie’s skin. You’ve got your t-shirt rolled up beneath your breasts, with your belly being warmed by Eddie’s cheek, which longingly rests there as he talks.
“The bard and the sorceress didn’t have much to their names, but they had love. Endless love.”
Eddie begins his tale, ever the storyteller, able to breathe life into entire realms in the spur of the moment. You grin as you imagine your child in the near future, being lulled to sleep as her father spins endless, magical adventures, just for her. 
“The bard would sing as the moonlight shone under the sorcerer, who danced in the woods to the beat of the night. Together they created magic, their sounds of love made a symphony that rivaled that of the wolves and nightbirds. And from that magic, a little bud grew within the sorceress.” 
Your eyes wander aimlessly all over the room, getting lost in the coils at the crown of Eddie’s head as you remember how all of this came to be. How the conversation of children had been had so long ago, only then it had been agreed that you’d wait until after you got married and had a little bit more to your name than a shitty apartment you could barely afford with Eddie balancing out his job at Thatcher tire and teaching music on the side, and you begging people to buy your paintings while you taught art at the youth center. 
But, there was one day, when you just couldn’t pry your hands away from each other; when there came rounds and rounds and rounds of rough, primal, feverish need that left you both desperate and drenched, throbbing, aching, and hungry for more, more, more. 
You were gonna have a child anyway, so why wait? You begged Eddie to fill you in the way no one else would ever do until you could feel his essence stuffing you to the brim, Eddie’s being making a home inside yourself. 
As if that wasn’t enough, he filled you again the next day, onto the next week. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Those days, you were both so elated, feeling invincible and high without taking a single hit. It truly was like magic, which burst out with sparks the day you took that first pregnancy test and it came back positive. 
“The sorceress saw the face of that little bud, as clear as day, in her cauldron of clairvoyance.” 
You exchange a grin as you remember endless conversations before falling asleep, sharing how you were both so certain it would be a girl. 
“...And I wanna name her Elizabeth, like your mom…” you had murmured so long ago, while tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear, your heart folding over the way his eyes teared up with gratitude when you said that.  
He grinned through the rivers that traversed his cheeks, nodding as he looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh yeah? You’d do that for me? You’re gonna give me another little Lizzie Munson?”
And even through his cracking voice, he had poked your sides to tickle you so you wouldn’t call him out for crying – making you wrap your arms around him and kiss him silly until your tears were replaced with bubbling giggles. 
“The bard wrote songs for it, lullabies to help it grow,” Eddie continues. “The sorceress prayed every night to the mother goddess of the woods, swearing the little bud would be named in her honor. All was well, all was right. Until a dreadful night when they were awoken by a banshee’s shriek. The bud was gone!” 
Your fingers halt their caress around Eddie’s curls, as the memory never fails to make your heart shudder, as if out without proper cover on a cruel, arctic night. You hadn’t done anything wrong at all, and the doctors said it was normal for a first-time pregnancy. It didn’t make it any less tragic for you, having woken one night, to the horror of your bedsheets stained with blood. 
“The bard and the sorceress lamented its loss for days and nights. What had they done? They had nurtured it with all the love in their bodies; the sorceress had woven garments to keep it cozy during the winter, and the bard wrote sonnets to make its mind spin like dandelions in the wind.” 
When you came back from the hospital, you swore you’d honor the original plan of waiting until after getting married. You gave yourselves a whole week to just be sad, doing nothing but napping and staying in bed watching silly movies. You even started a little diary where you wrote the things you looked forward to doing with your child once they came back to you – first missing tooth, first trip to Disneyland, first words, first day of school… 
Eddie grabs your hand then, recognizing where your mind had wandered off to, giving it three little squeezes – to signify ‘I love you’ without words. He stops his tale to give your bellybutton a little kiss, nuzzling his cheek against your skin and breathing in deeply, as if reassuring himself that those memories were a thing of the past. 
That the present was far more beautiful – kicking his face and making him snort and chuckle, saying “Alright, alright, you want your papi to continue, I get it!”  
You laugh brightly, and resume your toying with Eddie’s hair as he clears his throat exagerateddly before continuing. 
“In their period of mourning, the sorceress sought answers from her cauldron, and was soothed by the revelation she came upon. There in the iridescent liquid, the face of the bud became clear again, enveloped by tender, wise hands. A whisper came in with the gust of wind entering through the opened window. It was the mother goddess! whose soothing voice assured the sorceress that their little bud would be safe with her – that she would take care of it until the time was right for it to rejoin the couple. Many spring suns rose before the sorceress felt the kick of life within her once again, growing stronger each day, with the blessing of the mother goddess.” 
“ – and you know who that is?” Eddie breaks the narrative to speak directly to the baby that’s been kicking eagerly through the rest of Eddie’s tale. He taps his finger gently to the spot that seems to jut out with each kick, with a goofy lovesick grin on his face. Still amused as hell because he says it looks like a scene from Alien. 
“That’s you, baby!” You double over in laughter when he blows a raspberry to your belly, retaliating all the kicks he felt against his cheek during your tale “That’s you, my precious girl!” he coos between snorting chuckles and tickles that make you both roll around in bed. 
“-- Stop, stop stop!!” You wheeze as you try to push Eddie away from you, making him redirect his attack to the side of your neck. 
He fits himself behind your body, with his arm all snug around your belly until your laughter dies down, to the gentle rhythm of his hand rubbing circles along the shape of you, and those dewdrop kisses that turn into gentle licks that have you sighing contently, melting into the bed. 
Only Eddie could have you swooning with innocent tenderness one moment, to then have you gasping for breath the other, as his hand trails over your curves and his palm squeezes your breast. He lets out a soft groan every time, delighting in the way they feel heavier in their palm, way more sensitive as his thumb lightly fondles your throbbing nipple. 
“What say thee, my beloved sorceress, wanna make more magic tonight?” You can’t help but chuckle and blush over such a corny line delivered so seriously through that low growl coming right from Eddie’s chest. 
“You’re so stupid” You playfully push his face away from your neck just to egg him on, and he gladly takes the challenge, encasing you in his arms and kissing you all over like an overeager puppy. 
And what could you say? It takes a certain kind of magic to transform laughter into whines of pleasure, to cries of newborn life.  
That’s what you ponder, a month later, gazing tiredly from your hospital bed to the sight beside you. Eddie rocking your baby in his arms, with a grin as luminous as the moonlight.
He’s kissing Elizabeth’s delicate head, whispering the continuation of The Bard and the Sorceress.
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stylesloveclub · 9 months
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sunshine (epilogue)
In which Harry's still grumpy, except for when he's with his sunshine girl.
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“How was it?” Maddie asks y/n, sitting in the driver’s seat of her beat up red Toyota Corolla. The engine is running as y/n climbs into the passengers side, carelessly throwing her backpack in the backseat and buckling herself up. 
“I don’t want to think about integrals ever again,” y/n responds. She’s just gotten out of her calc midterm, and she feels horrible and miserable and exhausted. Although she’d promised herself to go to sleep early last night so that she’d be alert and prepared for her exam… she actually hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 AM. She’d been twisting and turning in her bed, flipping her pillows and trying to lull herself to sleep all night, unsuccessfully. 
Thankfully the class wasn’t until noon, so she was still able to get at least five-ish hours of sleep. But she still woke up feeling like shit. Her heart had been pounding nervously all morning, and she hadn’t been able to get any food down except for three sips of some coffee she made for herself in the morning. She didn’t put any makeup on as she left for campus, only a pair of sweats and a burgundy sweatshirt… Harry’s burgundy sweatshirt. The one he’d given to her in the car when he’d driven her home. 
Now, she has a reason for wearing it! You see… it still smelled like him. And y/n somehow convinced herself that by wearing Harry’s sweatshirt (the sweatshirt that smelled like him!) she might be able to…  absorb some of his math skills? And do better on her midterm? 
She’s pulling at straws here. She still feels like she failed it. 
“Listen…” Maddie says, pulling out of the parking lot. “I need to go over to Blake’s, I left my makeup bag in his bathroom and then we’re gonna go out for lunch.”
“Okay,” y/n mumbles, not caring. She closes her eyes to try and soothe the pounding in her head. She’s gonna nap as soon as she gets into her bed. 
“Do you want me to drop you off at home first? Or… did you want to come and see Harry?” 
Y/n’s eyes flutter open. Harry. 
Maddie looks over at y/n knowingly. Y/n turns bashful. “Yeah, I’ll come and see Harry.”
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Harry looks like he’s just woken up when he opens his bedroom door for y/n.
His eyes are puffy and his curls are flat and messy. A smile immediately spreads on his face when he sees it’s y/n.
“Hey.” His voice is deep and raspy, and it’s probably the first word he’s said all day. 
“Hi,” she says, twisting her hands in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. No– his sweatshirt. 
Oh. Oops.
Harry smiles down at the burgundy sweatshirt that’s swallowed y/n’s body. 
“I– I wore it so that I could return it,” she stammers. A lie! Harry sees right through it, and finds his smirk growing even wider. 
“I like it on you,” he grins. She grows shy under his gaze, heart bubbling with that familiar feeling. The feeling of a crush. “How was the midterm?” he asks, closing the door behind himself and y/n.
He lays back down in his bed, the way he’d previously been before y/n came knocking on his door, and y/n sits down next to him. “I dunno,” she shrugs. Her eyes are downcast and dull, lacking the happy sparkle he usually searches for whenever he’s in her presence.
“I’m sure you did okay,” he says, resting a reassuring hand on her knee. “At least it’s over now!”
She nods. A certain weight had been lifted from her chest as she walked out of that lecture hall. No more studying integrals and derivatives for hours straight…
“There was this one problem,” y/n can’t help but say. “It was like… ln(x) to the power of two…”
“Do you want to write it out?” Harry asks. He knows that y/n probably won’t be able to let this midterm go until she gets all of her questions out of the way. 
With a pen and paper in hand, she messily writes the problem out, the paper tearing a little bit when she presses down too hard. “It was ln(x)^2… and i split it into ln(x)*ln(x). That’s allowed right?”
Harry nods, “Mhm. That’s what I would’ve done too. What next?”
“Um… I did a U-sub. I don’t know if that’s right though… I was running out of time and just did something so that I could get at least partial credit.” 
“A u-sub is right,” he grins.
“Really?” She blinks with wide eyes as he nods. “So… wait– tell me if I did the rest of it right.” She messily writes down what she remembers putting down on the test, then gives the paper to Harry. 
“S’good,” his dimple pops out as he smiles up at her, “It’s all right. And you didn’t forget the +C, good job!” 
“No way!” she exclaims, disbelievingly. Her hands land on Harry’s chest as she giggles triumphantly, “No freaking way I did it right! I thought I was just making math up! Oh my gosh!”
“Told you,” he laughs along with her, holding the hand that she rested on his chest. “Stop stressing out, sunshine. You studied, and now you’re done!”
There’s that name again, the one that makes her entire body tingle with happy chills. >sunshine. The sparkle in her eye is back, and Harry feels pride for being the reason she laughed. The entire world feels brighter now that she’s happy again. 
Y/n’s giggles die down slowly, and she looks down at Harry, eyes flickering between his. Her stare is intent as she chews on her lip, the remnants of her cheery smile still present in the apples of her cheeks.
Something thuds on the floor behind Harry. They both peer over the side of the bed to see what fell from his bedside table. It’s just a book… but when y/n looks closer…
“Wuthering Heights?” 
His cheeks turn pink. “Yeah…” he coughs dryly. “I um… I remember you reading it. Thought it might be nice if I picked it up, and that… we might be able to talk about it or something.” 
Her heart swells in her chest. “You’re reading Wuthering Heights?” 
“Well– trying to,” he chuckles at himself lamely. “I’m like 10 pages in.”
She wants to kiss him. She really really does. Like… he’s perfect and beautiful and kind and sweet and amazing. But… god would it be weird? After last time?
Harry pushes himself up on his elbows. He can feel the tension too. But when he inches closer to her, her eyes flicker with doubt and she looks away. 
“No,” he pleads, cupping her jaw. “Please… please don’t let it be different.” She meets his gaze again. 
“I like you,” he swallows thickly, “and I want… something with you. Whatever you want.” 
He inches upward, and this time she doesn’t pull away. Her heart races in her chest and she lets the magnetic force between them take over. 
“We’ll take it slow, at your pace…” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut. “No rush. Just trust me, please.”
She nods. She trusts him.
Their lips connect, a spark flying through y/n’s body the second she makes contact with him. It’s wonderful, better than last time, even, and she realizes the reason kissing Harry is so great is because it’s >Harry. Because she can feel how much he cares for her when he kisses her. He speaks poems with his lips when he kisses her and writes sonnets on her skin every time he touches her. He tastes like minty toothpaste, freshly washed, and his lips are so soft and sweet and gentle. 
He pulls away from her lips with a soft click, then stares up at her with hearts floating in his eyes. 
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Y/n is out of breath, huffing and puffing in front of Harry’s door and knocking like a madwoman. She ran here from her own apartment, too excited to wait and ask Maddie for a ride. She needed to see him >immediately. 
Harry opens the door with concerned eyes and furrowed eyebrows, a little bit scared. He still has his headphones on with his controller in his hands, staring down at y/n as though he just had a heart attack, “What? What is it?” 
A huge grin is plastered on her face. “Harry!” she beams. “I passed!”
“What?” he’s still confused. What did she pass? Why is she at his door?
“I got a 77% on the midterm!” she squeals, jumping up and down in her place. 
His eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. “Yes!” he cheers. He pulls the headphones off of his ears and hangs them around his neck, just in time for when y/n wraps her arms around him. He’s taken aback, stumbling a few steps backwards from how hard she pummeled into him, but easily steadies himself and wraps his arms around her back. He hugs her so tight that her feet leave the ground, and she’s laughing in his ear sweetly.
“I can’t believe it!!!” she says, her hands on his shoulders as he puts her back down on the ground. Her eyes glimmer with the shine that he adores so much, and it makes him grin even harder. His dimple pops out, a rare sighting for anyone else except for y/n these days. 
He kisses her without a second thought.
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The scene is all too familiar. Harry, sitting at a party with his eyebrows furrowed grumpily. His friends are sitting around him, laughing and chattering, but Harry says nothing. He takes a bored sip from the jungle juice in his hand. Three girls have approached him tonight, batting their eyes up at him and biting their lips teasingly, but he’s brushed them off without so much of a glance. He’s not interested in the slightest.
He looks around himself, eyes searching for a certain someone, and he sighs to himself. She’s still not here. His pout grows more prominent, and he whips out his phone. He does not care for anyone at this party, and though his friends are fun and all… they’re having a weird conversation about Elon Musk that he doesn’t want to even listen to.
He huffs. He stares at the last text he received, 19 minutes ago.
sunshine: omw!! be there in 15 :)
She’s 4 minutes late, he pouts. It’s probably Maddie’s fault.
A firm poke is pressed to his forehead. “Hey grumpy.” His heart jumps as he recognizes the sweet sunshine angel voice speaking to him. 
“Sunshine,” he coos, the furrow his brow immediately melting into a soft smile. He holds a hand out for her, which she immediately takes. She has a soft smile on her face, her eyes kind and warm and gentle, the LED party lights haloing around her head and making her look like a fairy. “Missed you.”
He pulls her down into his lap, her butt comfortably sat on his thighs, and nuzzles his face into her neck, trying to get as close to her as possible. A content hum rumbles through his chest now that he’s surrounded by her scent, his pretty girlfriend in his lap, drowning out all the other people at the party. She giggles cutely when his curls tickle her chin, simultaneously trying to escape the kisses he’s pressing to her sensitive throat while also wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 
“Watcha drinking?” she asks. 
He offers her his drink, “dunno.” She grimaces as she takes a sip, and he imitates her grossed out face. “Yucky, isn’t it?”
She gets the drink as far away as possible from herself. “Gross.” 
He chuckles. She’s so beyond cute, her cheeks so soft and biteable as she scrunches her nose. One of his hands is on her back, holding her upright, while the other one rests on her thigh comfortably. His fingers on her back find the ends of her hair and start twisting them, playing with the soft strands and curling them around his fingers, while his fingers on her thigh trace up and down and up and down. Goosebumps rise along the path of his fingers, and it makes him smile. She’s so reactive to every single one of his touches… he wants to have his hands on her 24/7.
If she wasn’t so shy and sweet and innocent, he’d start kissing her pretty, glossed up lips right here and now, even with all of their friends sitting around them. He’s obsessed with her! Obsessed with kissing her all the time and teaching her all the secrets of intimacy. But he knows she’d probably get bashful and embarrassed with that much PDA (even getting her to sit in his lap took a bit of coaxing at the beginning), so he settles for pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re so cute,” he murmurs to her, resting his head on her shoulder. Is it too early for them to leave this party and to his room? He’d love to be snuggled up in bed with her… have her read to him a little bit while he plays with her hair… yeah that sounds nice.
“M’gonna go get a juice box from the fridge,” she whispers (his fridge is stocked with juice just for her). He whine when she pulls away, looking up at her with big pleading puppy dog eyes, begging her not to leave him when he’s just gotten her, but she pecks his cheek with a dismissive kiss. “Do you want one too?”
“No,” he pouts. “I’ll just have some of yours, if that’s okay?”
She squints her eyes at him, “you get two sips, and that’s it.” 
He shrugs with a teasing smile. “M’kay.” He resists the urge to pat her ass as she walks away (that’s for when they’re alone in his room).
He’s stuck in a lovey dovey lavender haze as he watches her get swept away by a group of her girlfriends, smiling to himself fondly as they all giggle and look towards Harry mischievously. He knows she’s probably getting grilled about how little miss sunshine finally got a boyfriend! 
A shove from Blake jostles him out of his daydream. “Who are you?” Blake snickers. All of his friends are staring at him too. Nobody has ever, ever seen grumpy Harry be so soft with anyone. Kissing her cheek and cuddling into her neck and whining like a love-struck puppy… it’s funny. 
Harry rolls his eyes and tells his friends to fuck off, trying to furrow his brows and look all serious again. But his heart flutters happily in his chest, and those pretty dimples dent his cheek. 
He can’t be very grumpy when his sunshine girl is skipping back to him, juice box in hand as she settles back down on his lap. 
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perfect ending for my fav story:( TELL ME WHAT BLURBS U WANNA SEE!!!! MANY MANY BLURBS TO COME BC I LOVE THIS STORY:(
sunshine masterlist
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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months
Text
Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.
A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader
warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.
word count: 1k
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“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”
You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.
“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”
Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.
“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.
“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.
“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”
“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”
“It does?”
“Mhmm, you bet it does.”
Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.
Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.
Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.
“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.
“Hmm?”
“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”
“We did? Are you sure?”
“Positive. February 14th.”
You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”
“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”
“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”
“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”
You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.
“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”
“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.
“I do, in fact.”
“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.
“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”
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spider999sposts · 10 months
Text
Pretty girls—Miguel O'Hara
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🕸synopsis: you might've really lucked out choosing this one to be the father of your child.
🕸tags: fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara
🕸genre: fluff...mostly :)
🕸author's note: hi. this has nothing to do with all the projects I've got going on. I've had a really shitty day so this was like a comfort fic for me. hope you enjoy <3
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Crying. Again. It was the third time this night. You were on the brink of losing it. You tried everything, feeding her, boiling some soothing leaves and bottle feeding her, changing her perfectly clean diapers, holding her and lulling her to sleep. It all worked momentarily, only for her to start crying again.
Your body was exhausted and you were about to cry, but you shook your head. This is parenthood. You knew it was going to be hard.
So you sat up and sighed, readying yourself to find some creative way to lull her to sleep again. As you got up, you felt your husband's hands pull you back onto the matress.
"Lo manejaré, amor."
[I'll handle it, love.]
He sounded extremly sleepy. You shook your head. "No, you have work tommrow, Mig. I—"
"You deserve to rest. I don't mind. Try to sleep a little."
He moved over and kissed your forehead, kicking off the blanket and moving over to the crib beside your bed. You watched him lean down, and pick her up. She was so small compared to him, and it was always so hesrtwarming watching her cuddle closer to him as soon as he picked her up. Her cries got a little less loud.
"Cariño, realmente has cansado a mamá." He whispered, his big hands on her back, supporting it. "¿Qué es? Habla con papá."
[Darling, you've really tired mommy. What is it? Talk to daddy.]
He started moving from side to side, and she calmed down even more, now cooing, as if replying to him. "Mhm, mhm.." Miguel looked over at you, then gave you a lopsided smile. "Let's go out, mija. Your mom needs her beauty sleep." He winked at you, then headed out of the bedroom door, closing it behind him.
You tried to sleep, but with no avail. You've awoken too much to be able to go back to your slumber. And it didn't help that you didn't have Miguel to cuddle near you. You stayed in bed for a few minutes, then, you heard it.
Music.
It was low, and soft. But it was there. Curiosity filled you. It couldn't be the neighbours, the music wasn't that loud. It was coming from outside.
You got up, putting on Miguel's robe and stepping out of the room.
"Mm, you like this song, Gabi?" Miguel was still as shirtless as he was when he went to bed, only wearing his sweats. Gabriella was resting her head on his shoulder, sucking on her pacifier. Her eyes were fluttering, and her fists were opening and closing around her father's arm, squeezing his skin. He was humming to her, the song playing was the one you danced to at your wedding. "Can't wait to show you the wedding photos, Mija. Tu madre se veía hermosa." Gabriella cooed. "Tsk, yeah, just like you. You get your pretty looks from her, don't you?" He kissed her head, one full of thick brown hair like his, and continued to gently sway from side to side, to the beat of the music.
[Your mother looked gorgeous.]
You moved a bit closer, not wanting to disturb them. It was one thing that Gabriella was finally actually going to sleep, but this sight infront of you was something you wished you could freeze. If you could pause your life, it would always be paused at this moment.
You set your head against the wall, watching them sway. Miguel had queit the singing voice, and it was really cute. You didn't get to hear it often, he always acted all serious when you even mentioned it. But here he was. Singing softly to his daughter.
"Mm, you're growing so fast, Gabi.."He hummed, "I'm sorry I'm not here as much as I should be. Leaving your mother to be with you all the time. It's not fair to either of you." You never really complained to him, or even mentioned being upset at him not spending enough time with the both of you. You loved spending time with Gabi, and you just wished he'd be there more often so he would watch her grow up along side you. To know he's feeling like this made you a little upset. You wanted to comfort him.
"I promise that'll change from tommrow. I got that promotion, just don't tell mom yet, okay? I want to take her out and tell her then." He patted her back, "Nuestro pequeño secreto, hm, mija?"
[Our little secret, hm, dear?]
Seems like you'll have to pretend you didn't hear that.
You moved, and the wood creaked underneath you. Gabriella let out a little sound, but she fell back asleep queitly after. Miguel turned to look at you, a sleepy smile on his face.
"Couldn't sleep?" He whispered. You walked over to him, taking his robe off of you and placing it on his shoulders. "Not without you.." Miguel chuckled, his hands wrapping around your waist from the other side, pulling you close. "Mm, Mis chicas guapas.." He kissed your head like he'd done with Gabriella earlier.
[My pretty girls.]
"She only slept when I picked her up and held her close to me. Just like her mother." He joked. You cuddled near him, putting your hand on his chest, your head on his shoulder. He was securing Gabriella with one arm, and pulling you closer with the other. "Mm, maybe she likes you more than she likes me. A daddy's girl."
"Tsk, how could anyone like me more than you, amor?" You hummed, his warmth and scent calming your fried nerves. "Come, I'm sure she's asleep by now." He took your hand in his, leading you back to the room.
You watched as Miguel put Gabriella down gently into her crib, kiss her forehead, then turn to you. He didn't say anything, just gently took your hands and led you outside.
With the music still playing, you put both your hands on his chest, while both of his wrapped around your waist. His head rested on top of yours as the both of you swayed to the music.
"Can you imagine the day of Gabi's quince?" You mumbled, closing your eyes. "Or her wedding? I know she's still so small, but the thought of her growing up so fast.."
"Mm, I can't imagine them to be honest. I think I want her to stay like this. I don't like the idea that she will have to let go of me eventually." He replied, his grip around your waist tightening just a bit. You giggled, no matter how he tried to hide it, he was the biggest softie at heart. "I take you won't like it when she gets her first boyfriend."
"Hmph, let's get you to bed, amor." You laughed at his attitude. His little pout and furrowed brows. "I'm only joking, hermoso," You tip toed, leaving a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. "But you're right, we should get to bed."
Once you've turned off the music, and you returned to the bed, a sense of comfort washed over you as Miguel wrapped his arms around you for the night.
However hard life was as of now, you were just glad to have your sweet husband to help you push through it.
"LYLA?"
She zipped beside him, the glow of her hologram reflecting against his tired crimson eyes.
"What...am I doing? That isn't leading me to where he is." His eyes never left the screen as he watched his counterpart. His counterpart who had a beautiful daughter, and a wife who loved him so dearly. His counterpart who was laying on a soft bed with the woman he loved near him, wrapped so tightly in his arms.
"Well," LYLA frowned, almost sorrowful.
"You weren't really able to save your version of her in your universe, were you?"
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steddiealltheway · 10 months
Text
After the bats, Steve gets a bit self conscious about his scars, and starts going on less and less dates because he doesn’t know how to explain them to girls.
He’s hanging out with the fruity four when he starts complaining about it. Eddie snorts and says, “Imagine how I feel.”
Steve cringes and apologizes because everyone knows he got the worst of it.
Robin starts suddenly laughing maniacally, and they all look at her. Nancy asks what she’s laughing about.
Robin jokes, “Well the solution is right in front of you. Just date each other.”
Nancy joins in laughing with her, but Steve and Eddie eye each other. Steve had never thought a gaze could hold more than words until he sees the way Eddie is staring at him.
In all honesty, Steve wasn’t just missing all the physical stuff that comes with a relationship. Well, he was definitely missing it, but more importantly, he was missing the way it felt to have someone that loved him so unconditionally. In reality, he had only had the illusion of that before, but it had been nice. And it was especially nice to care for someone so deeply that it felt like his life had a whole new purpose - to make them happy.
The more he looks at Eddie, the more the laughter from the girls becomes white noise. He thinks that he could treat him that way. Hold him as if he’s doing it for him and not for himself. Call him to wish him a good morning and good night so he could be the first and last thing on his mind every day. Also, to give himself a reason to wake up and a calming voice that can lull him to sleep.
Maybe it would work. Even if Eddie’s not a girl, he thinks he might be able to overlook that. Especially with the beautiful depths of his brown eyes and the big, soft lips of his and that adorable nose even though it’s not a button nose like Steve usually likes. Honestly, Eddie is beautiful in his own way, and Steve knows he isn’t immune to it especially in large doses.
So, he shouldn’t even begin to consider the thought. Fake dating or sort of dating Eddie is completely off the table.
But Eddie’s staring at him, eyes scanning over him and settling on his lips in a way that makes Steve’s heart thud so hard he thinks everyone in the room might be able to hear it.
Okay, maybe the dating stuff isn’t completely off the table, but there’s no way he’s bringing it up first. He nods at Eddie once and looks away trying to signal an end to whatever discussion / consideration they just had. But he can still feel Eddie’s eyes linger on him the rest of the night.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few hours later, three of the four are leaving Steve’s place with Nancy offering Robin a ride and Eddie lingering behind a bit. Steve’s been overly aware of his presence since Robin’s whole dating each other suggestion.
What makes it worse is that Eddie is also aware of what his presence does to Steve and keeps shooting him knowing looks and winks. Until now.
Now, he hovers in Steve’s doorway and watches as Nancy and Robin pile into a car and drive off. Then, he takes a few seconds before turning back to Steve saying, “Tell me I’m not the only one considering Robin’s idea, please.”
Steve thinks about it for a moment before he takes Eddie by the wrist and pulls him back inside, closing the door behind him.
“I’m not saying like… actually dating,” Eddie says, the confidence from earlier all but evaporating into thin air as he fidgets anxiously with his rings. “I mean like… we’re just each other’s rock or something. Hell, if you just let me flirt at you and tell me things are going to be okay, then I’m fine with that. You can look at it as practice while you regain your confidence with the ladies or whatever. Just…” Eddie trails off, and Steve thinks he knows exactly what he means.
He finishes Eddie’s thought out loud, “It’s hard going through everything we did without someone to hold us and tell us it’s okay to feel scared sometimes. I mean… it’s one thing to have friends, best friends even, but… they get girlfriends and while you’re their platonic soulmate, their actual soulmate always comes first a little.” Steve sits back on his couch and runs his hands over his face. He hadn’t meant to project about Robin and her relationship with Nancy because he’s happy for them really. He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have what they have.
And really, he knows that friendships are everything, and Robin is his everything but… he sighs. Sometimes it would be nice to be held and kissed and get lost in someone else so deeply that everything else disappears.
Maybe that’s just Steve though. Always running from relationship to relationship for something he’s never able to find.
The couch shifts next to him, and a hand slowly comes up to Steve’s pulling it away from his face, and intertwining their fingers together. Steve’s heart skips a beat as he turns to stare at his and Eddie’s hands together. Steve talks without really thinking, “I know relationships aren’t everything. Friendships are really what makes a person whole, and you can’t get everything out of a relationship but… I really want to trial run this thing with us. We can call it speed running to more than best friends or something.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows. “That sounds like friends with benefits.”
Steve rolls the term around a bit in his head and squeezes Eddie’s hand while shrugging. “That works too,” Steve mutters.
Eddie shifts towards him and looks him in the eye. “You’ve gotta clear up what that means, man. Terms and conditions and shit.”
Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you. Going on dates or hanging out or whatever you want to call it. Cuddling - hell, anything touching I’m fine with… with reason,” Steve says although with the way Eddie is staring at this lips and the warmth coursing through his body, he’s not sure he has a limit to the whole touching thing. Shit. He knew he wouldn’t be immune to Eddie.
“I’m good with that. Yeah, just… communication is key here, right?” Eddie asks eyes still dipping down to Steve’s lips and back to his eyes between his words.
“Communication,” Steve echoes, staring at Eddie’s lips before communicating, “I really want to kiss you.”
“Finally,” Eddie says before leaning forward and locking their lips together, his hand squeezing Steve’s but he can hardly register it because of how badly he wants to do nothing but kiss Eddie until he’s forgotten any bad thing to ever happen to him.
Then, Steve feels it. The small (big) part of his heart that’s screaming at him that he needs this to be more than a friends with benefits trial run. He needs Eddie to be his and only his if a simple kiss can ruin him like this.
He pulls away and looks at Eddie, searching his gaze and seeing something there he hadn’t seen before. “Eddie, remember everything I literally just said about the trial run and friends with benefits.”
Eddie nods in response. His hand still in Steve’s squeezes.
“I don’t want that,” Steve says and panics when he sees the broken look cross over Eddie’s face as he pulls his hand away.
“Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have-”
Steve cuts him off. “It’s because I want more than that, and you deserve more than that. Screw this trial run and all that shit. I want to date you. Like… actually date you and give this a shot. If you want to that is.”
Eddie’s tongue quickly swipes over his top lip over and over nervously as he stares at Steve. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. God, Eddie, I can’t believe I even suggested friends with benefits like a dick,” Steve says with a groan running a hand through his hair.
“I’m the one who accepted it very willingly I might add,” Eddie says with a big smile that fades to a smaller one. “But I’d love more than anything to make this something more.”
Steve’s stomach flips and he feels absolutely giddy with joy. “Quickest trial run ever, right?”
Eddie laughs. “Thank god.”
Steve leans in and kisses him again before pulling back and saying, “Best communication ever, right? Good thinking on your part.”
“The best thinking,” Eddie says then kisses Steve again.
Steve thinks that maybe he’s finally found what he’s always been searching for (but really doesn’t want to give Robin the credit).
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