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frequentlysecondo · 10 months

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Mia Arancia || Fluff || Primo x gn!Reader

Tl;dr: Sharing fruit as a love language and Primo deserves a break from gardening in the summer.

This is my first time posting writing on tumblr, I apologize if my formatting is a little clumsy <3

In the enchanting nature of the Ministry’s garden, the rows of greenery were bathed in the golden hues of the rapidly approaching end of the day and appeared as otherworldly as ever. Primo could be seen standing in the middle of his growing vegetables, looking reminiscent of a scarecrow as he marveled over what must’ve been long hours of work, remaining motionless as he stood exactly where you had hoped to find him.

Primo simply observed your leisure stroll as you made your way closer and arched an eyebrow curiously. His gaze flickered between your approaching figure and the horizon, questioning the unexpected visit. Nonetheless, the sight of you beckoning him from the other side of the garden with an eager wave only piqued his interest further. Knowing your penchant for mischief and mystery, a smile tugged at his face when you approached.

Drawing closer to Primo, you tilted your head, studying his countenance intently. His voice, though calm and composed, carried a note of playful suspicion.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You're up to something, aren't you, mio dolcezzo?"

You shook your head, your faux serious expression suddenly shifting into a wide grin. "No, no," you responded, your voice laden with a faux sense of urgency. "This is a matter of very serious business, my dear. C’mere." With a playful flourish, you waggled your fingers and extended a hand in a hopeful invitation.

Once your fingers had interlaced together, the two of you ventured further into the back corners of the garden. Eventually, your steps came to a halt, leading you to a secluded alcove adorned by a magnificent orange tree. Its branches gracefully bowed under the weight of growing fruit imbued with the warm hues of a setting sun. Primo’s eyes sparkled with delight as his gaze swept over the nearly picturesque scene before him, his eyes moving from the lush emerald leaves to your face. A smile played upon his lips as he clasped your hands in his own, your fingers entwined like an unbreakable bond.

“Ah, you’ve led me to the orange tree,” he whispered, a blend of curiosity and surprise clearly evident in his words. A confused chuckle escaped him.

“I had planned on harvesting these in a few days time.” he admitted with a hint of amusement.

Before he could continue, you drew his attention to a particularly low-hanging branch which bent under the weight of a perfectly ripe orange. Excitement brimmed in your voice as you pointed it out, the already wrinkled sleeve of his shirt crumpled further in your fist in attempt to pull his body closer to the branch in question.

“But look! This one is ripe today.”

Leaning over your shoulder, Papa reached up to gracefully pluck the orange from its branch. A glimmer of admiration danced in your eyes as you watched his movements, amazed by the confidence held in the simple swing of his arm as he brought it back down to open his palm in a proposal.

“Are you suggesting we share our first orange of the harvest?” He gently turned the fruit in his hand, inspecting the dip where the gentle curve of a leather peel met the wooden stem. The time spent considering what he had asked was closer to a day dream rather than a debate on your actual answer, artificial hesitation induced by an overactive imagination. After a few moments your distraction was cut short by the feel of firm, pitted rind being pressed into your palm. “We must eat it together, of course," His expression beamed with a sense of pride as he spoke, eagerly presenting you with the literal fruit of his labor as a treasure to be cherished, shared.

“I’ve always thought oranges are best when split with someone else.” It was hard to resist a smile while agreeing and holding the orange up to the light to study it for yourself. Sitting down in the grass under the tree, there’s a comforting wave of tranquility as you lean back against the textured bark before pushing a fingernail against the rough skin of the fruit and slowly beginning to pull it apart. Primo slowly sits down next to you with a soft sigh as his muscles stretch, your shoulders bumping together sending a rush of electricity through your veins even after all the time you’d spent together.

"You know, you're quite good at peeling these things," he mentions quietly as he studies your movements. "How do you do it so effortlessly?" He asks curiously, raising a brow. You laugh in response, the sound twinkling like wind chimes in the light breeze as you held out a slice of the orange to Primo.

“Lots of practice. Oranges are my favorite.”

"Orange peeling is a rather unique skill to practice," The grin that shines on his face could easily beat out the brilliance of the sun when he reaches out to take the section of fruit.

“You can peel it so easily and swiftly," He continues with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“You always make the simplest of things most interesting. Thank you for offering your skills to me, mia arancia." His attempts to butter you up make you laugh, scooting closer to him in order to duck under his arm despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air.

"We'll have to share one each day, sì?" He suggests while biting into the orange slice, the sweet juice dribbling on his chin and smearing along the black lines of his face paint that was already distorted by the sweat of the day.

“I would like that very much. It’ll remind you to take a break, too.” You tease Primo playfully. Despite being retired, he still insists upon spending long days tending to his plants, rare to take a rest without being prompted. The thought of meeting every day for something so small simmered in your mind, the tender domesticity of being near one another for no real reason other than to exist. Together.

“Did you know there’s a lot of poetry about sharing oranges with your loved ones?” You ask suddenly as you pop a slice of the juicy fruit into your mouth and continue to peel the opposite side.

"I didn't know that," he admits. "About the poetry." He pauses for a moment. "What does it say?" He asks quietly while he lays his head atop yours, content to watch your fingers move swiftly to continue separating the sections.

“It’s all symbolic of sharing your life and love in a gentle way. A simple act of service can carry great meaning, you see?”

Pure contentment bubbles in your chest as you feel Papa shift closer to you and the feather light flutter of his lips pressing a kiss against your shoulder is enough to make you wonder if you have ever truly felt this peaceful before. You hold up another piece of the fruit close to his face in offering as you explain further.

“To love someone enough to cherish the mundane. I’ll read you some.”

And so you sat together until long after the horizon imitated the color of the fruit passed between between your hands, repeating lines of prose while sharing an orange or three with the sweet nectar sticky between your fingers and lips.

“[..] They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,

As ordinary things often do

Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.

This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.

I did all the jobs on my list

And enjoyed them and had some time over.

I love you. I'm glad I exist.”

-The Orange, Wendy Cope, 1992

#ghost bc #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus I #papa primo #primo #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #primo emeritus #fluff #self indulgent fluff #sharing fruit as a love language #Tabbi Writes

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bird-slayer-brainrot · 1 month

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A diner at the end of the universe - DW one shot

Before the fourth war of the Planets of the Tiberius Belt, and before the collapse of the Roplinsky empire, there had been a legend. And this legend was about a diner.

Henry had heard all the rumours. The travelling diner. The old, immortal diner that never seemed to host anyone. Henry knew everything. She knew that, once, the coffee had been really bad, but it was decent now. That if you played a song, the workers let you eat free of charge. That the diner had remained standing, undamaged, in the middle of a war, and when it had ended, they found a camp of refugees waiting for the war to be over.

Henry was eleven years old when she first went to the diner. She had begged and pleaded her Pa to take her since it had arrived. It had taken up residence far side of the park they used to go to play frisbee. Henry had fond memories of the park. The trees were tall, adorned with orange, auburn, ever-falling leaves. There was a story there, that an evil witch had cursed their planet with eternal autumn out of jealously for its brights suns and blue sky. It had meant to scare the children into modesty, but, as it was, young children found a different message in their dying world, that one day, there would be a spring so beautiful it would make the centuries of autumn worth every moment.

Nobody knew why the diner was there, or indeed when it had gotten there. Despite the mystery it was enshrouded in, the diner was rarely visited. This made Henry all the more determined to see it for herself.

When her father swung open the glass diner doors, Henry was immediately hit with a strange sense of familiarity.

Henry hadn’t expected there to be anyone in the diner, but the sight of the empty bar and red, leather seats still seemed strange. Tourists from other planets often frequented the old-Earth themed attractions.

Henry sat on the cool, hard leather and looked at the posters on the wall. Despite its lack of popularity, the diner seemed well kept and neat. The jukebox by the door, a colourful antique thing that probably shouldn’t still work played a soft guitar melody, before a male and female duet began.

The clacking of heels against tile caught her attention. She turned her head and a waitress was there. “Hello there.” the waitress chirped. Henry turned her head and watched as a broad smile graced the lady’s face. “My name is Me, and I will be your server in today. What can I get you?” Her father gave her a lurk, and Henry pointed to the pancakes on the menu. The waitress, giving her Pa a knowing smile, scribbled the order, along with a black coffee and a full English, into a small, discrete notepad.

“Won’t be a minute.” She smiled, before turning away and going to the kitchen.

“So.” Her dad said over a bite of black pudding and egg. “What do you think?”

And Henry smiled at him over half eaten pancakes. When they tried to settle the check, the waitress, Me, insisted it was on the house. They left the diner with their bellies and their hearts full.

Four years later, they came.

It had been on the local news every night for a week, and everyone was terrified, even if they never knew quite why. The diner stood, accompanied by a ship. They all waited to see what would happen.

People had started gathering outside of the diner to see. The crowds grew and grew, and eventually the authorities had gotten involved to crowd manage.

Henry went to the park one afternoon to see. Though it had been years since she had eaten there, she felt strangely protective over the place, like that morning with pancakes and orange juice and her Pa’s bitter coffee had lodged in her a desire to protect the place if she could, in the same way an injured bird attracted human salvation.

It was busier than usual, and it soon became apparent why. Though Henry could not have made her way through the crowds if she fought. She heard two ladies talking. The sign at the door had switched to closed.

The protest lasted four months. Every day, from morning to dusk people gathered at the edge of the park outside the strange, foreign diner to watch. Waiting, for motion, for the owner of the diner or the owner of the ship to act. Henry was there whenever she could be. Time wore on but the numbers didn’t dwindle.

And then, the next day, the mysterious spaceship had left. Some had said the police had gotten involved, and those who bought it said it was the Silence. But what everyone agreed on was that they were glad to be rid of it.

Then, months later, the diner was gone too. The grass patch where it once was looked unbothered. Like the diner, the strange, old diner, had never been there at all.

It was years later, on the planet Tiberius, when Henry saw the diner again. The new settlement, with its glossy, bright lights and translucent glass contrasted that old diner completely. Henry couldn’t believe it when she saw it. She hardly slept that night. She went the next day.

It was the same as it was before, unchanged. Henry stepped hesitantly through the front door. It was overwhelming, and the same sugary syrup smell of the air stopped her in her tracks.

A door swung open and Henry stared. The woman, black hair done in vintage roles, wearing the same blue waitress uniform smiled at her. Henry watched herself from afar as her legs took her to the booth that she had sat at all that time ago.

“Henry, wasn’t it?” the waitress asked. Her voice sounded the same. “You seem well.”

“Yes.” Henry nodded. Me, that’s what her name was, the namebadge was the same. “I’m well.”

Two cups of black coffee in mismatched mugs were poared. Henry clutched the warm ceramic but didn’t drink.

“You must have a lot of questions.” Me said, smirking. It felt impossible that she looked so relaxed. So young. Henry was barely twelve when she last saw her.

A voice sounded suddenly from behind the door, and Henry watched as Me turned her head and yelled something back. Suddenly, another waitress emerged. In one hand, she held a plate loaded with pacakes, whipped cream and syrup, and in the other, a jug or orange juice.

“Hello Henry.” She said, stopping aside Me. Henry looked down at the stack of pancakes in front of her. Unable to say a thing, she picked up a fork and took a bite.

They were exactly as she remembered.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” The woman said softly, a small smile on her face. Across from her, Me made a noise.

“Let her eat first.” Me scolded gently. Henry watched as Me looked at the other woman fondly. The other woman, in turn, slipped beside Me, and quickly plucked a cherry off Henry’s plate. Before Henry could say anything, the woman laughed a, bright, kind sound, and twiddled the stem between her fingers. Me frowned at her without menace.

“You’ve been waiting for us.” It was then that Henry noticed her name badge. The name was also familiar. She had never met this woman in her life, but the inevitability in which this encounter felt steeped in was not at the back of Henry’s mind.

“Now.” She smiled at Henry. “Do you want to hear a story?”

#creative writing #fanfiction writing #fanfiction #my writing #doctor who #clara oswald #ashildr #canon compliant #post canon #50s diner #space #sci fi fanfiction #sci fi #Clara and Me are definitely in love and run a travelling diner #self indulgent fluff #time lords #dr who #dr who fandom #dr who fic

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kittencomicslol · 11 hours

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Braids

(Gyutaro x Reader)

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Through out my days I have heard plenty complaints about my hair being too ‘messy’ just bc of how it ethically is since I’m Latina, and it’s been on my mind. so I decided to write a little fic of Taro helping the reader brush through their hair and then putting it into a braid :3

- no tws! Just fluff :3

“Y’know.. I never thought you of all people would be good with hair..”

You murmured with a small chortle escaping your lips, Gyutaro only sighing in response as he delicately ran his long fingers through your locks.

“Why not?.. I raised my little sister, I know about all sorts of girl stuff like that..”

His words were playful despite the unfortunate circumstances him and his sister had been put in that caused him to learn anyways.. or maybe even if they were safe growing up he would have still learned in order to further his bond with the little girl… you’d like you think that would be true.

Despite not being able to see him from behind, you knew very well he was smiling. Gyutaro loved being able to help out and make you feel comfortable.

“Man.. I can’t even imagine having this much hair on my head.. it’s like it gets fluffier and bigger when I brush it.”

He teased, causing you to only roll your eyes at his little comment. You didn’t mind having him dote on you, and you definitely didn’t mind someone actually enjoying your hair.. you had gotten far to used to people acting as if it was in disarray due to the more curly ethnic texture you were born with. It wasn’t your fault it was frizzy when brushed and constantly curled. It was annoying how often people said it looked ‘messy’ or ‘unkempt’ after you finished brushing or cleaning it.. but Gyutaro didn’t seem to mind. He was gentle and sweet, as he always was with you.

“You should try sleeping with braids in.. I learned from Ume that it helped keep away so many knots and tangle’s..”

He suggested sweetly, wanting to do anything no matter how small to make your life just a little simpler.

“Yea, you’re right.. I guess I just get a little lazy. I never really learned how to make braids.”

Your admission caused your lover to snicker a bit. It was funny, considering how much you enjoyed braids and how helpful they could be you were clueless to making them. Gyutaro snorted slightly, still gently combing through your curls.

“Maybe I can teach you..”

His suggestion melted your heart. How did you get so lucky to have a man like him?.. what a sweetheart. Sure, not many people would refer to him as such but you would.

“Only if you let me braid your hair after you reach me how..”

Your teasing only caused him to scoff slightly, a big grin on his face. You just always needed to find some way to offer some sort of pampering to him, didn’t you? Not like he minded.. he loved that about you. Your gentle and loving demeanor only made him fall further in love with you every time you displayed the want to give him attention he felt he didn’t deserve.

“Damn.. and here I thought since Ume is older I’d be free from getting my hair styled.”

He joked slightly despite the fact he really didn’t mind at all, in fact he was fond of the idea. As much as he refused to admit it, he missed when Ume did such domestic tender things like that with him so often. Sure he was glad she was older and more independent with her own friends.. and of course she still spent quality time with him, she loved him to bits. But she was just more reserved nowadays when it came to sappy stuff like that unless she was trying to make him look nice for an event. That girl always went all out to doll him up even if he would insist against it.

You winced slightly, one of the bristles on the brush getting caught in a thicker tangle that caused your hair to be tugged. Gyutaro instantly felt guilty, letting out a quick apology for hurting you. Not like you minded such a common mistake, it was always bound to happen when brushing through hair.. but it was still endearing to see how much he cared.

“Your hair is so pretty.. just like the rest of you..”

Gyutaro mumbled as he delicately worked through the rest of the knots in your hair delicately, making sure to be gentle with each time he brushed through one with precision.

“You’re such a sweet talker..”

You couldn’t help but tease Gyutaro for how gentle and sweet he always was with you. You were sure he learned a lot of his more attentive and compassionate habits from Ume, and it was so sweet to see how caring he could be. Gyutaro let out a playful scoff at your words, not being able to stop himself from smirking.

“Just treating you how you deserve to be treated, princess.”

His voice sweetly cooed, placing the brush down beside him so he would be capable of carefully wrapping his long bony arms around you and pull you into his lap.

“Hey!”

A giggle escaped your lips, tilting your head back to gaze upon the smug grin plastered across his face. Your reactions to anything he did were always so amusing to him and he adored seeing all of the cute engaging expressions you always made.

“What? You always like it when I do this..”

He teased, giving you a gentle squeeze as he held you close. And his playful banter was correct, you were rather fond of his attention.

Since he had just brushed your hair it was all poofy and frizzy, getting in his face slightly and being puffed out onto his arms. Of course he wasn’t brothers by such a ordinary thing one bit, he loved being close to you regardless of how frizzed your hair was. Even if your lover didn’t mind such a small thing, you still found it slightly obnoxious how your frizzy brushed hair always stuck to everything.

An annoyed huff escaped your lips as you made an effort to use your hands to flatten it back down onto your head.

Despite your attempts, every time you moved your hands away it just poofed back out to where it was before causing you to groan, and for Gyutaro to chuckle.

“Don’t worry so much about it, sweet thing.. I don’t mind it.”

Your boyfriend reassured you with gentle words, moving one hand away from your waist and up to your head in order to gently run his fingers through your curls.

“It looks pretty like this.. or well, all the time.. so you have nothing to worry about..”

Gyutaro mumbled softly, lazily resting his chin atop your head with a goofy smile on his face. After becoming more comfortable with touch, he was absolutely infatuated with being close to you.

In the past the man worried that if you hugged him or got close you would realize how skinny he was and belittle him like others would. But in the end all you ever did was make sure he had eaten well.. you really were a blessing from the gods.

“Thank you, Taro..”

Always so appreciative of his sweet gestures and kind words, you couldn’t help but thank him.. why wouldn’t you? He had done nothing but shown you love and affection, he deserves to be appreciated.

“Any time..”

Even though others might find the raspy nature of his voice to be an annoyance, you found it endearing and charming. It was just one of those little things that made him unique . His voice was recognizable, and even if he would complain about how he disliked it, you couldn’t help but adore how your lover sounded.. maybe it was love blinding you to his flaws or imperfections, but in all honesty you didn’t care.

“So… about those braids..”

A chortle escaped his lips at you subtly prompting him to help you learn how to style your own hair. The little smile that tugged on your lips was enough to melt his heart and make his day feel brighter.

“Of course, of course.. but you’re gonna have to get off of me..”

Not that he wanted you to get off of his lap, because if anything he wished you could just stay there all night. Gyutaro loved feeling you close, the feeling was truly incomparable to any other simple gestures that every day life gave to him. You felt the exact same way even if he didn’t even tell you he was disappointed by the fact. Though, unlike Gyutaro you had no hesitation to express your slight disappointment.

A fake pout left your mouth, a playful over exaggeration to your disappointment of the fact you had to be just a bit further from him in order for him to work his magic. Gyutaro chuckled and let a content sigh slip out from his dry chapped lips as you pouted, watching you move off of him and sit down on the floor in-front of him.

Scooting a bit closer, Gyutaro gently reached out his hands and used the advantage of his long fingers to easily separate your hair into three sections for the braid. The simple action of intertwining the little parts of your hair didn’t seem too hard.. just a bit aggravating at how precise one would have to be.

“I’m surprised you don’t know how to braid your own hair, hah.. I’d assume that you would know..”

Gyutaro mumbled in a teasing manner, delicately moving your hair over and under itself to wrap it into the start of a braid. It wasn’t easy to exactly see what he was doing, but you attempted to try and retain his actions by the little tugs you felt on your head that signified his movement’s.

“Y’know, it doesn’t really seem that hard in all honesty.. maybe I just haven’t learned how too because it’s a hassle and I’m impatient”

Chuckles could be heard behind you as Gyutaro struggled to stifle his snickers of amusement from your statement.

“Huh, so you just need me to do everything for you, eh?..”

His teasing only caused you to giggle, and despite you wanting to mess with him a bit more or playfully jab his arm you kept still. A gut feeling told you that if you began roughhousing while he had a hold of your hair it would end up in yourself getting hurt, and then Gyutaro inevitably feeling guilty because of it.

“Hey! I said I was willing to learn. Besides, I’m not making you slave around, you’re choosing to do my hair.”

Your teasing was only met with a quick witted response that displayed Gyutaro’s amusement

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you, honey’”

He teased while still delicately braiding through your hair, making sure to be gentle with your locks.

“Thank you, honey. Though, this is less of a braiding lesson and more of you playing around with my hair.”

He sighed, knowing you had a good point. If he was actually planning on teaching you he should have gone to the bathroom to use the mirror.. though him postponing the actual teaching was just another excuse to spend more time with you and shower you in his affection.

“Is that a problem?.. would you rather me take it out and start again so you can see?”

Even if his tone was mocking, he was genuinely asking the question. If you wanted him to start over and show you, he a hundred percent would do so in a heartbeat just to make you happy. But luckily for him and all the work he put in so far, you just chuckled and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasing.. I’d never complain about you doing something so sweet like this..”

There was a slight relief that washed over Gyutaro when you clarified this was fine and he could keep at what he had already started. You could have sworn you even heard him let out a relieved sigh.. it was cute how much dedication he put into you. The mere effort this man put in when just making sure you were comfortable was more than enough to make you fall head over heels in love with him over and over.

Silence filled the room as your lover attempted his best to perfectly braid your hair, or at least in a way he thought was flawless enough to properly display your beautiful. Everything about you was radiant to him, and he hoped he could make you feel as gorgeous as he viewed you.

“Hey (Y/N)?..”

His voice rang out through the quiet atmosphere of your room, instantly catching your attention.

“Mhm?”

You hummed sweetly in response almost instantly, your full attention placed on your lover and his next words.

“Can you pass me your hairband..? I need it to finish up your braid..”

His voice was quiet, almost sheepish as he asked you such a favor. Your heart melted at how flustered Gyutaro got over something as simple as doing your hair. He seemed almost embarrassed; as if he was worried you wouldn’t like the finished product.. but he didn’t have a thing to worry about. Even if it didn’t turn out perfect or it was messy, you could care less. The effort he put into making you happy and doing you such a kind courtesy was more than enough for you.

As you handed back the little hairband Gyutaro couldn’t help but smile.. it had a little bow sewn into it. He thought it fit you perfectly, something so simple yet so cute. He delicately tied your hair at the bottom, completing the braid with a proud smile on his face.

“Thank you hunny..”

The mumbles of praise and thanks you gave him nearly sent a shiver down his spine. How could words so simple sound and feel so comforting? He would never know the answer to such questions but yet, he reveled in it.”

“Do you like it..?”

Were the words he mumbled as he gently moved the braid over to rest on your shoulder and chest so you could see it properly. He felt silly for being nervous over something as ordinary as a braid but the man couldn’t help himself.. even if you constantly reassured him that he was enough for you he never truly felt as if he could be a good partner for someone as perfect as you. The flaws that you had went right over Gyutaros head, blinded to him either by love or his own struggles. He just wanted to be a good boyfriend for you..

Even when braided up your hair was still a bit frizzy, and it always looked bigger after getting brushed out. Gyutaro had done it so neatly.. It really put into perspective how high he held you in his eyes if he put so much effort something as common as doing your hair.

“I love it.. it looks perfect.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips at the clarification you liked the favor he had done for you. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back into his lap.

“M’ glad you like it..”

He sounded proud he made you happy, what an endearing thing to notice..

“Love you..”

His chin rested atop your head once more as he mumbled those words he spoke so often to you; yet he meant it with sincerity every time.

“I love you too, Taro..”

————

Master list/request rules

I promise I’m working on some requests I just got that dawg(nerodivergent hyperfocus) in me

#demon slayer #gyutaro #demonslayer #gyutaro demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #kny #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #demon slayer x reader #I love him soo #modern gyutaro #kny highschool #kny modern #demon slayer modern au #kimetsu academy #fluff #self indulgent fluff #gyutaro fluff

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graylinesspam · 1 year

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"not gone simply marching far away"

#Ahsoka tano #captain rex #501st legion #self indulgent fluff #Self indulgent found family trope #tcw #sw tcw #star wars #501st #Mandalorian sayings #Clones have mando culture

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howdoyousleep3 · 1 year

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hi don't mind me, i've had a very overwhelming and sad last few days and wanted to do something brazenly self-indulgent. welcome to my brain for the past week or so, maybe you can find joy in this too, maybe you won't, but i’d like to get this out. 💘

you feel impossibly small around your Daddy

in mind, in body, in spirit

and it would be scary if he didn't take complete and perfect care of you, but of course he does

so you are at peace with your existence and way of life

"You know...kitten, you know I'd take care of you. Daddy makes a lot of money and there's nothing more he wants than to spend every bit of it on you, providing for you. I hate seein' my baby cry, hate seein' you stressed, when we can fix it, when you can let Daddy take care of you. I know, mhmm. You're a determined little thing, but when you're ready to let Daddy do his job, you let him know..."

your pride keeps you at your job long after you’ve made up your mind to let Daddy take care of you

you’ve never let someone have so much control over you and it’s hard to wrap your head around, takes time to accept

someone controlling your finances? providing for you in every way? having to rely on someone for money and food and a home?

the red flags are overwhelming

it doesn’t feel like red flags with your Daddy though— it feels like safety, like protection, like love

according to him, your job now is to let Daddy make the decisions, is to be as carefree and sweet as possible

of course there are times when your mouth is stretched obscenely around his girth or his long strokes in your bitty pussy leave you squealing and squirting and crying where he tells you this is your job—

“This is it, sweet girl— this right here. This is why you left that fuckin’ job. Daddy’s big cock was hurtin’, was achin’, not havin' total access to this tight little pussy. A pussy like this deserves to be fucked on the regular, deserves to be filled up by her Daddy every single goddamn day, shit...this is how you repay your Daddy, baby. With this pretty fuckin’ pussy…

you spend most of your days going to work with your Daddy

Daddy sets your clothes out in the morning, makes you breakfast, wakes you up with gentle kisses and rumbly whispers and the occasional wandering hand

sometimes you require a firm hand though, a stern voice to get you out of bed on time

you not so secretly like his firm hand though

there's a small part of his office, near the window overlooking the city, that is dedicated to you

a cute table with a lamp and your computer, a vase for the flowers you never fail to pick up each week, your art supplies and your favorite coloring book Daddy bought you two weeks ago, your journal and favorite pens, your current read and your stack of future reads

he knows how you’re feeling always, anticipates your every need

your outfits, your meals, the coffee he orders you on the way to work, how you spend your days in his office

“Your clothes are on the bed, sweetheart”, “…and she’ll have the salmon with an additional side of french fries, thank you”, “Here baby, just how you like it— oat milk with an extra shot”, “You’re almost done with your book, why don’t you read that?”

your Daddy knows you down to your core, your soul, knows you inside and out

if your brain is sad, he chooses clothes that are loose and soft on your body, maybe something of his, chooses foods that can be broken into small bites so he can feed them to you, doesn’t allow for you to make s single decision and you’re forever grateful

he’ll let you crawl right into his lap while he’s in a meeting, on Zoom, taking a call, won’t hesitate or stop what he’s doing, will just wrap you up in his arms and rearrange you how he wants you while he continues to talk or take diligent notes

if you wake up feeling as sweet as can be he chooses something flirty and confident for you to wear, gives you tasks that allow you to interact with more people at the office, maybe letting you do a bit of shopping, still not letting you make many decisions but always giving you what you need

sometimes he’ll ask you to complete tasks if you’re in a better, more playful mood

he rarely gets things done on these days, watching you as you move around his office and work at his desk, sometimes pulling out his cock and shamelessly jerking off to the sight of you working through his to-do list like a good girl

if he's in a mood, he'll tell you to take your clothes off as you prance around his office, and he'll strokes himself off to your cute little behind, the sway of your hips, the bounce of your tits

"Look at you remindin' Daddy that he's the luckiest sonofabitch there ever was. Goddamn, you're a pretty little thing, aren't you? Daddy can't help it; even here at work he's gotta get his hand on his cock. Gimme a twirl, there you go, that's my girl. No no, you keep workin' on that to-do list, baby. Don't mind Daddy...

no matter what, it’s heady watching Daddy be the boss at work, commanding others with confident ease, which makes it easy for you to want him on you, in you, near you as each and every work day comes to a close

more often than not, no matter your mood, you end up with a mouthful of Daddy's cock on the drive home, whether it be stress relief for him of comfort or need for you

your nights are reliably cozy, meals (ordered from your favorite places or made at home since Daddy is a great cook) eaten together after a shower or bath, watching television or a movie or reading together under a cozy blanket to round the day out

and as you fall asleep each night, Daddy's big, warm body pressed tightly against your own in your big, cloud-like bed, you never fail to remind yourself how lucky you are to have your Daddy in your life, to have someone who dotes on you, protects you, provides for you, gives you everything you could ever want, who loves you

“I'm the lucky one, sweet girl. Rest your pretty head now and have the sweetest of dreams...”

#soft soft soft #soft daddy thoughts #daddy is up to you #reader insert #self indulgent fluff #this has been in my drafts forever #daddy kap is always on my mind but honestly this could easily be an andy barber in my head #my writing #howdoyousleep #headcannon #daddy headcannon #don't mind the mistakes #Spotify

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desertfangs · 1 year

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Words: 8981 Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy, Armand/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Daniel Molloy/Marius de Romanus (ALL OF THEM LOL) Characters: Daniel Molloy, Armand (Vampire Chronicles), Lestat de Lioncourt, Marius de Romanus, Louis de Pointe du Lac, Rose (Vampire Chronicles) Additional Tags: sometime at court not too long after prince lestat, Blood Drinking, Mild Smut, Mild Blood Smut, Silly, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Romantic Fluff, this is just silly fluff i offer no apologies, Self-Indulgent, POV Daniel Molloy, Vampire Daniel Molloy, Post-Canon, or at least late canon while ignoring some of the last books, we don't do aliens in this house, unless it's marius getting increasingly angry at the inaccuracies and bullshit of ancient aliens, Light Angst, but very light Summary: Armand is throwing a New Years party at court at Lestat's request, and Daniel is trying to avoid being there for too long, lest he get conscripted into a job. But maybe there's a place at court for him after all.

I'm going to level with you: this is entirely silly self-indulgent fluff. It started with two ideas that I thought were hilarious and I cackled like mad the whole time I was writing this. The angst is only Daniel trying to find his place at court. Armand and Daniel are getting along, which is a thing I do believe actually happens lol. I just needed a distraction and some sweet and soft Armand/Daniel fluff for the end of the year, and this is what happened. I hope if you read it, it makes you laugh and/or smile.

And don't worry, if gratuitous humorous fluff is not your bag, I have some angsty stuff in the pipeline. ;) (Which is why I need stuff like this to remind me they did get their happy ending.)

So anyhow, silly fluff for now to close out 2022 and here's to 2023 being less of a shitshow than the past few years, hm?

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kashi-prompts · 1 year

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Flowers for a Shinobi

Chapter 18: Desert Flowers

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Kakashi x OFC

Previous Chapter ❀ Archive of Our Own Link ❀

A/N: I have thought of nothing other than this chapter for the last 2 weeks of my life. I hope you like it. More soon.

❀❀❀

"Ayame," a voice called to her from the window. Startled, Ayame looked up from her book to see Kakashi balancing himself on the windowsill of her hospital room.

"Goodness, you startled me," she breathed, rubbing her chest and smiling awkwardly. Even so, she felt heat prick at the back of her ears, a giddy feeling rousing her senses at the sight of him suddenly appearing.

"Sorry," Kakashi chuckled, sliding down from the window and walking over to her. "I came to see how you were feeling."

"The same as yesterday," she replied, the corner of her lips falling slightly at her own words. An awkward pause filled the room at the hanging memory of the last time they interacted. He looked different today, somehow. Not only was his Jonin jacket missing, but the air around him seemed lighter as well.

He looked down at the book in her hands as her fingers nervously fiddled with the pages.

"How do you like it so far?"

"It's good," she smiled at him, her thumb holding her page. Was it the best book she had ever read? No. Did it keep her occupied? Yes.

Kakashi nodded, smiling softly to himself as his eye slid down the wool blanket across her legs. She traced his gaze, realizing he was looking at the blanket he had covertly lent her on their journey here.

"Oh. Would you like your blanket back?" she asked, glancing up at him, "it was in my bag you brought me the other day."

Kakashi looked up quickly, an embarrassed smile hiding behind his mask as he scratched the back of his neck, "no, no. You keep it. I'm glad you were able to get a change of clothes."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she looked away. It was the first time he had acknowledged that he had been the one to cover her that night in the forest.

"Thank you," she looked back down slowly, closing the book and replacing it on the nightstand beside her. Her hands returned to the comfort of the wool, weaving her fingers between its soft fabric. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, thankful they had detached her from her heart rate machine and IV that morning. She felt like such a child; every move he made seemed to suddenly heat her body by three degrees.

"So," she began after a few moments of silence, watching Kakashi stare at the oxygen monitor behind her, his hands in his pockets. He lifted his eyebrow expectantly, looking back over at her.

"What are you really doing here?" Ayame asked, feeling bold. "Are you traveling back to Konoha tomorrow?"

Kakashi shook his head, assessing the dust on the light above her bed with his index finger, "no, not anytime soon. And not without you."

Again, her heart twitched in her chest, but she ignored it.

"Then why are you here so late?"

He paused, looking over at the impish smile she hadn't seen since summer, "between shifts is the best time to get out of here when no one is looking."

Ayame chuckled, clearly not picking up on his humor, "will I just walk out the front door?"

Kakashi paused, looking down at her bemused expression. Finally, he lifted his hand from his pocket, holding it out in front of her, "no, I have a better idea."

Ayame's playful expression fell, her uncertain eyes flickering between his gaze and poised hand. Behind his mask, she could see the shadow of an encouraging smile looking down at her. Again, another wave of heat rolled across her body, thinking of the previous day's encounter.

Slowly, she lifted a hand and placed it in his, allowing him to support her as she slid out of bed. The feeling of his worn fingers against her palm twisted her stomach. Slipping her feet into a pair of slippers, she felt him gently let go, ensuring she was steadied as the pads of his fingers slid from hers.

Ayame looked up at him, feeling a mingle of uncertainty and excitement swelling to the surface. He stood there for a moment, a single onyx eye jumping between two olive-colored irises. She felt herself wanting to shy away; something in his gaze seemed different - a more sober and unwavering stare as her cheeks flushed.

"I'm glad you can stand up today," he told her quietly, "you're getting your strength back."

Ayame nodded, unable to find any words to reply. Finally, he looked away, turning back towards the window and looking either way beyond the sill.

"Are we really going somewhere?" she asked, watching the muscles in his forearm flex as he leaned against the window's ledge.

"You'll see," he looked back, knees bending slightly, "but you're not strong enough yet. Let me carry you."

Her face turned crimson, shaking her head as she laughed nervously, waving a dismissive hand, "Kakashi - please, I'm fine. I don't have to go anywhere."

"It'll be worth it," he smiled, "I know what it's like to be locked up in a hospital room for weeks. Some fresh air will do you good."

Ayame hesitated, biting her lip as he looked back at her again, waiting. It wasn't as though they hadn't been this close together before. On the contrary, they had fought at close proximity all summer in hand-to-hand combat, not to mention their kiss on the same training field, but this was different. Exhaling, she stepped forward, locking her hands around his neck as he requested. The heat from his back as she pressed her chest against it was overwhelming, sweat prickling at her skin as she felt his hand reach for the back of her knees.

Yelping quietly, she gripped the collar of his shirt tightly as he hitched her knees to his hips. She was grateful she had changed into long pants rather than the hospital gown she had had on the previous day. A girlish, uncomfortable laugh fell from her lips unexpectedly, burying her face between her arms as he lifted them both through the window. She could smell fresh detergent on his clothes, the scent of his clean skin beneath it mingling in her nose as she held on.

"Wait -" she looked up, turning back into her room as he walked over to the hospital's room, "what about-?"

"Don't worry, I'll get you back before the midnight rounds," he replied assuredly. Under the glow of the rooms behind them, she could see the different hues of grey and silver that made up his hair. As the lights grew dimmer the further away they moved, it quickly became apparent just how dark the Sand village was from the rooftops, even with the glow of the main drag illuminating below them.

"Ready?" He looked to her over his shoulder, waiting for her consent. She pressed her lips in an uneasy smile, nodding slightly as she gripped his shirt again. In one swift motion, he launched the pair from the hospital's rooftop, skidding across residential flats as they made their way toward the edge of the village.

Behind her, she could feel her hair bustling in the wind, the night's fresh air filling her lungs. Her grip on his shirt loosened, her palm flattening out on his chest as it expanded with each breath. She could feel how thin the fabric was, her fingers brushing over what felt like dog tags hanging from his collar.

She nestled her head on his shoulder, looking up beyond the rooftops toward the desert biome around them. His hair tickled her nose, and she pulled away, looking up at the sky above and relishing its beauty. At that moment, she was alive. There was no poison, no threat, and no injuries. Just this.

A few rooftops later, she felt his boots skid to a stop at the edge of a building and looked up over his shoulder again. Before them was a steep, desert land formation jutting out from the sand below. It was one of the many that surrounded the village's perimeter. Kakashi looked down at the distance from the rooftop to the ground, assessing it before looking back up.

"Kakashi," Ayame warned, her hand curling his shirt in her fist.

"You don't trust me?" He looked back at her, another impish smile behind his mask. Ayame snorted, looking up at the feat before them.

"I do - but -" A yelp fell from her lips, feeling him grab her wrists as he lunged from the building. Squealing behind him, she buried his face in his back, a grunt coming from him as he landed on the ledge of the desert structure.

"Try to hold on to me tighter," he advised, their bodies suddenly perpendicular to the ground. Without looking up, she clung to his body, hooking her ankles together at his waist. His modest grunts filled her ears as he cautiously lifted the pair up the incline.

She gasped behind him, feeling them slide backward as a rock he had grabbed on to tumbled down against the structure.

"I'm not going to let you fall," he reassured her, feeling her forearm clench his neck.

Quickly, he recovered, the feeling of his chest rising against her fist clearly indicating how strenuous this was.

Finally, she felt him lift the pair above a landing, pulling himself up with Ayame clinging to him.

"Alright, you can get off now," she heard, her fist unfurling from his shirt at the feeling of steady land beneath them.

"Are you sure?" she laughed uneasily. He chuckled in response, patting her wrists that held against his collarbone. Carefully, she peeled herself off of him, the thin fabric of her slipper feeling the rocky land beneath her feet.

Her gaze fastened to the sky above as she came out from around him. A cool breeze slid across the land, sweeping sand at her feet as her lips parted slightly at the marvel of the constellations above. As far as the eye could see, stars and planets twinkled against the inky backdrop of the night sky. A watercolor of purples and blue hues painted the sky, constellations shining against the dark night, begging to be seen. A star gazers paradise.

"I've never seen the stars so clearly before," she managed, her chest tight in awe at the scale of just how small she felt at that moment. She could see every twinkle of light before them, far beyond the desert basin of the Wind.

"This is beautiful," she shook her head in disbelief, looking over at him for the first time. His eyes had been on her, watching her take in the scenery. She smiled softly at him, feeling herself blush as he looked away back up at the sky.

"It is," he agreed, "it's the best place to see them."

"You've been here before?" She asked, knowing the obvious answer. The premeditated idea to bring her here cinched at her chest.

"When I can. I found it when I was in the ANBU," he replied, his hands deep in his pockets. Listening to his words, she slowly lowered herself to the rocky ground, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked back up at the sky. Glancing down at her, he sat beside her with a bent knee, the pair watching the stars twinkling beyond the desert tundra.

"How long were you in the ANBU?" she questioned, looking over to him. There was suddenly so much she didn't know about him. Although there wasn't much she knew about the secrecies of the ANBU Black Ops within the village, she knew enough to infer the kind of life that must have been.

"For much of my youth. I joined when I was thirteen," he told her, his eye swiveling over each star cluster.

"That seems like a lot to handle at such a young age," Ayame offered solemnly. Her eyes looked to his wrist that hung over his knee, his thumb picking at the skin of his middle finger.

"It was," he agreed, "but so is everything else that comes with being a shinobi."

Ayame nodded, looking away, "What made you join?"

"You have to be chosen. My sensei appointed me," Kakashi answered, pausing for a moment, "after I lost my teammates."

"Both of them?" Ayame looked over, perplexed by his words.

Kakashi turned to look at her, his eye meeting hers as he thought of a response. But something intrigued her about the look in his eyes, the somber expression that danced across his partially hidden features. She wondered if she had gone too far, asking far too personal of a question.

"I'm sorry," she told him quickly, looking back up at the night sky, "you don't have to tell me."

"Don't apologize," he replied to her, "I don't usually talk about it to many people."

She glanced back over at him, the hazy moonlight illuminating his profile in a way that twisted a knot in her stomach. She looked away, expecting it to be the end of the conversation.

"Rin was 15 when she died," she heard him reveal suddenly, her head swiveling back to him, "she sacrificed herself for the village."

"Oh, that is so tragic," Ayame frowned genuinely, saddened by his words.

Another pause, "She - walked into my attack meant for the enemy."

Ayame's eyes softened, compassion and grief overcoming her as she searched his profile. His eyes remained fixed on the night sky above, his thumb still nervously picking at the skin of his finger. She thought of what that must have felt like to experience.

"I'm sorry that happened," she replied gently, her gaze soft and tone understanding, "that must have been hard for you. Both in the moment and afterward."

Kakashi nodded soberly, "It was. It haunted me for a lot of years. It was like a grief that I couldn't get away from."

Ayame nodded as well, looking down at her own hands, a like-minded feeling tugging at her memories.

"And Obito was 14," he continued morosely, "He saved my life."

"That was very brave of him," Ayame commented quietly. He nodded his head, his mind on a previous plain of existence. A few beats passed, and she wondered if she should say more. But something told her that he was okay with the quiet.

Beside her, she heard him move, watching him lift his headband from his head, his hair falling over his forehead as he looked over at Ayame. He placed it between them besides a bushel of desert flowers. Ayame looked down at the headband as her eyes skimmed over to the desert flowers between them. The cluster of tiny white blooms caught her eye, picking one from the ground.

"I owe him my life," Kakashi told her suddenly, watching her fingers twirl the flower between them, "and for gifting me this eye."

Ayame looked up, a cool chill running up her spine as her gaze met his, the red glow of an ominous eye staring back at her. Initially, it may have seemed menacing, but as a quiet smile lifted his cheekbones, she felt her heart twitch again. Everything he did made her feel the same way.

"It sounds like he was a good friend to you," she told him after a moment's reflection, her words genuine as she considered his tale. She watched him nod, his eyes still watching the flower spin between her fingers.

"You know," he began suddenly, looking away at the night sky. "I always admired desert flowers the most. They're resilient little things. Adapting and growing in such an infertile, barren environment."

Ayame twirled the flower between her fingers, considering his words. She glanced at him, tilting her head as something clicked in her mind. At that moment, something seemed to change within her. A revelation tethering her to the plane of reality where it was just the two of them.

Hesitantly, she lifted the flower and carefully slid it behind his ear as he turned his head, captivated by her action.

"Just like you," she told him softly, tucking the perennial beneath his hair. She watched his eyebrows lift slightly, his expression tender in a fragile, vulnerable way she had never quite seen before. She lifted her lips in a delicate smile, their gazes knotted together as some unexplained force drew them closer - a catalyst bound for one another since the first day they met.

Ayame's smile fell, lips parting slightly as she felt his hand touch her jaw, tenderly cupping in his palm. Her breath hitched in her throat, feeling the callous on his thumb skim across her cheek, an unmistakable quiver in his finger against her skin.

It felt as though time stood still for a moment, an intimate exchange strong enough for the earth to pause on its axis beneath them, or at least that was how it seemed to her. She lifted a hand, holding on to his forearm as her eyes searched his face, desperate for him to not let go.

His chin tilted, and his mouth suddenly hovered over hers, hesitating as his finger slid against her cheek. Her eyes grew wide as his mismatched gaze looked into hers, the tickle of a shaky exhale warming her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest, heat rising up her spine as she felt the fabric of his nose nudge against her skin.

Her lips parted, suspended with a question as he took the opportunity to press his mouth to hers. Her entire body flushed, fingers tightening at his arm as though it were the only solid thing that kept her anchored to the swaying world.

For a moment, her body was immobile, her mind racing to catch up to what her body was experiencing. His lips held softly against hers, the piney natural scent of his skin tickling her nose, overwhelming her senses in a way she couldn't quite comprehend. After several thunderous heartbeats, she kissed him back, brushing her lips over the fabric that covered his mouth. He exhaled against her, a fragile groan muffled in his throat as his muscles came undone under her grip. Months of tension melting under the humid desert night.

His hand slid to the nape of her neck, his clothed lips moving so incredibly gently over hers, it made her delirious. She slid her arms around his neck, hands shaking as she pulled him toward the ground.

They broke away for a moment, labored breaths mingling as he cradled her head down to the sandy terrain. His lips peppered kisses at the corner of her lips, the hammering of his heart against her chest as she pressed him closer. The flower she had perched behind his ear slid to the ground beside them, landing in the dusty terrain as he lifted himself to look down at her, noses barely touching.

"Are you going to pretend this didn't happen again?" she whispered to him, holding his face as his eyes danced between hers.

Kakashi smiled softly at her. His gaze fixed on hers as he lifted his hand to her neck. Her pulse beat wildly against his palm, erratic and uncontrollable under the gaze of his dark, somber eyes. They were stripped of their usual calm, aloof distance beneath those thin black lashes, replaced only with a tenderness she never expected to be on the receiving end of.

"Only fools make the same mistake twice."

Ayame's parted lips exhaled at his words, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel him kiss her again as he pressed his forehead to hers. Instead, she was met with the electrifying feeling of his bare nose nuzzling at the side of hers. Her fingers gripped his hair gently as his soft lips fell sleepily to hers, pressing softly as a gentle hum escaped him.

Her mind went blank, lost in a bubble of time and space at the feel of his naked lips to hers, quiet desperation behind his kisses. Her fingers slid through his hair, the thick locks tangling between her fingers as she pulled him closer. All of the longing stored up in her overflowed, the gentle pressure of his mouth on hers as he deepened their kiss, causing her to lose all sense of reality. She returned his kiss fervently, feeling his tongue slide against her bottom lip. She breathed deeply against him, expelling the air from her lungs as though she had been holding it for months, only now allowing herself to let it go.

Every nerve ending in her body stood on edge, electrified and heated. She pulled away, turning her head and feeling his lips chase hers, his mouth pressing against her jaw and the corners of her lips, leaving soft, tender kisses in their wake. She lifted a hand to his face, wanting desperately to see it again since that day in her family's cache. He lifted his head, staring down at her through heavy breaths, his face flush and lips swollen just as she was sure hers were.

Ayame let out a shaky breath, holding the smooth skin of his jaw in her hand. He had clearly shaved recently. He was more handsome than she remembered, a coil in her stomach winding tighter at the sight of him. Her hand slid across his skin, her thumb tracing over the scar on his cheek, feeling the divot it created on his skin. There was nothing she wanted more than this. His eyes looked into hers, that same vulnerable, tender gaze as before.

She smiled warmly at him, her fingers sliding down his neck, feeling the artery pounding at his collar. He smiled in return, a genuine glimpse of something she suspected very few, if any, had seen.

She wanted to say something, to tell him how grateful she was to have him in her life. She wanted him to know all the things she loved about him, the bruises on his soul and the scars on his body. She wanted to utter the phrase that had swelled in her as he stroked her cheek, to whisper it again and again in his ear until the morning hours.

Instead, she reached up, burying her face in his neck as she wrapped her arms around him. The tip of his nose nuzzled at the back of her ear, shaky breaths tickling her skin. Carefully, he pulled them both back up to a sitting position, his arms snaking around her waist as she clung to him. Their legs tangled together, her head resting gently on his shoulder. Above her, she felt his cheek rest at the top of her head, his hand sliding up the ridge of her spine.

Neither said a word; the stars shifted slightly above them in the azure sky, the only indication of the passing time between them. He held her against him as though afraid she would slip away. Her fingers drew circles on his back, feeling his muscles relax under her touch.

"I should get you back," he murmured to her sometime later. His nose traced the shell of her ear, an affectionate gesture that tingled at her skin. She squeezed his shoulders, unwilling to let go.

"Just a little while longer," she whispered.

#kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x ofc #kakashi x original character #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake #kakashi #kakashi x oc #kakashi hatake x original character #naruto oc #naruto #naruto fanfiction #naruto fandom #self indulgent fluff #fluff #mutual pining #first kiss #technically second #naruto shippuden

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theshireisburningg · 2 years

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Come Feel This Magic

Eddie likes Steve and it's driving him crazy. Steve likes Eddie but it takes him a little longer to realize that.

Told through lyrics from Hey Stephen by Taylor Swift.

3k words | complete | no rating

[Read of AO3]

#self indulgent fluff #<3 #and also like cozy fall vibes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #ao3 #hey stephen by taylor swift #its their song. thats practically his name #someone made a post about this and i CANNOT find it. i hope they find this though #steddiedaily

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pipedream-darling · 2 years

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Bunny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39053838

“He was on the phone to Neil when I walked over. He called him bunny. Twice.��

Matt pauses. “Bullshit.”

“Wha— I’m not lying!”

“You misheard. You definitely misheard.”

Dan pouts. “He called him bunny, and he was sweet, and I almost saw him smile.”

“How do you almost see a smile?”

“You’re an asshole.”

——————————

How each of the original Foxes found out that Andrew likes to call Neil "Bunny".

That's it, that's the fic.

🐰🐰🐰

#aftg #neil josten #andreil #andrew minyard #all for the game #aftg fic #the foxhole court #my fic #self indulgent fluff #the best kind #same universe as my other andreil fics

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famiglia-lealta · 4 months

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When you love someone, waiting seven years might as well be its own kind of Hell.

#🎨 munart #🌻 nerinda salvai #Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #Okay To Reblog #Self indulgent fluff #good to have a deer around again.

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charlieandluigi · 1 year

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So I just presented for like 45 minutes on a reading I didn’t do…

…

That was an experience.

…

And just for the record, I did not die.

I’m counting that as a WIN against anxiety

FUCK THAT BITCH

#fuck anxiety #I’m on new shit now #i’m actually not #same meds #I literally just couldn’t even be mad #my dumbass wasted all my fucking time #like #whoopsie #sorry about not preparing for the ONE CLASS I NEED TO GRADUATE #I was writing #self indulgent fluff #time was supposed to stop for me #I have a problem #I can’t stop rambling in the hashtags #i’m cringe i know

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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x yn #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #idk im sad and i love him #self indulgent slay #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #angelshubnetwork

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