#the glass is half empty but i’ll drink what i can get | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 months

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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers.

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking.

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.”

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.”

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks.

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says.

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.”

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does.

She grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You all done?”

“Yep.”

“Not hungry anymore?”

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.”

“Thanks, beautiful.”

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?”

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night.

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch.

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests.

“I’m tired.”

“It’s not bed time.”

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat.

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it.

“That sound fun or what?”

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder.

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.”

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.”

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask.

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns.

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided.

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids.

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday.

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now.

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily.

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.”

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.”

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter.

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!”

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says.

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?”

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?”

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.”

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says.

“I didn’t say one!”

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.”

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.”

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks.

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?”

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips.

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying.

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says.

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?”

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest.

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out.

“Oh, no,” Avery says.

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.”

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else.

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks.

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.”

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.”

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say.

“Gonna get Beth changed.”

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.”

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed.

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?”

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask.

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?”

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.”

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says.

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?”

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately.

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.”

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!”

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.”

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.”

“Sorry,” she laughs.

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?”

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player.

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?”

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs.

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in.

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time.

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time.

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.”

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous.

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says.

You catch his hand. “I got you one.”

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth.

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter.

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?”

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?”

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin.

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff.

“Feels too good to be true.”

“My turn tonight,” he says.

“No, baby, it’s my turn.”

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say.

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke.

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.”

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back.

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.

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thesunisatangerine · 8 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part one

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

status: completed

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 1.1k

The thing was, you didn’t plan on getting laid tonight.

After a couple of days trying to settle in at Barcelona and looking for your lost luggage, all you wanted to do was to finally start your vacation. You just wanted to relax and experiencing the night life in Barcelona was definitely a good way to officially kick it off.

So there you were at the bar of an (apparently) exclusive night club in the city–the location was emailed to you by Derek with a VIP pass and a note that said, ‘have fun ;)’–nursing your second, half-empty glass of mojito, the speakers blasting rhythmic reggaeton music, when a woman slid into the space next to you, cool and confident with the way she leaned on her elbows against the counter as she gave the bartender her order in smooth spanish, “A gin rickey, please.”

The woman looked to be several years older than you–and taller, too, even with your heels on–and maybe it was the alcohol or the proximity but there was no stopping yourself from openly admiring her. Her black, cropped top and her tight, high-rise pants revealed perfectly broad shoulders and toned arms, as well as the taught lines of her stomach. When your eyes travelled back to her face, you found her looking at you with a raised brow and immediately, your cheeks warmed. The fact that you were gawking shamelessly and got caught doing so… just wow.

Words of apology were already on your tongue but the curves of her lips were mesmerising, the elegant slope of her brows distracting, and those eyes… the depth in them threatened to drown you that all coherent thought deserted you.

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Excuse me?” Came the bemused question, an instant slap to the face that sobered you up immediately.

“I’m so–I’m sorry, that’s what I meant to say. I’m–” You palmed a hand over your face as you began but a small chuckle stopped you halfway. You risked a peek through your fingers and saw the woman with her lips to the glass, something akin to a teasing smirk on her face while she remained leaning on the counter by her hip.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asked as she took a sip from her drink.

Not really the question you were expecting but you’d rather take a reprieve over a disaster. And at that, you smiled sheepishly at her. “Is it that obvious?”

“Hmm, no, not really. Your slight accent gave you away but your Spanish is impressive.”

“I’m still working on losing it but I’ll take that as a win. I’m assuming you’re from around here?”

“My home town is about an hour away outside of the city but I stay here most of the time for work.”

“That must be nice, being close to home.” Feeling more at ease now, you sipped at your drink. The woman did the same. Then you continued. “So, what do you do?”

For a moment there was nothing but music and chatter as the woman regarded you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes glinted–with what exactly? curiosity?–her head cocked slightly to the side. Then she sipped at her drink again. Did you say something offensive? you wondered.

“I work between the sport stadiums. And you? Where is home and what brings you to Barcelona?”

It was clear from the vagueness of her answer that the stranger didn’t want to talk about her job and it didn’t help your growing interest for her. You wanted to ask her about further details but the dismissive tone with which she answered made you hold your tongue and her question, anyway, made you pause as you pondered to answer.

As an orphan who lived a few years in the system, the subject of where home was had always been a sore spot for you even if the stranger didn’t mean anything deeper by it. In some sense, your adoptive mom was home but there was always a part of you that longed for… something. But, of course, you couldn’t bring that up right now especially to someone you just met. So you just told her where you were from, that you were on vacation, and that you work as a photojournalist for a press agency you helped establish. Something in your answer must had piqued the woman’s interest because her brows shot up.

“Which branch do you work in?”

“Spot news. But I’ve been meaning to expand my portfolio and get into another branch. Maybe try sports or portrait?”

The woman hummed in appreciation. “Any sports in particular? Wait, do you even like sports?”

“I honestly know close to nothing so I haven’t made a decision yet, but it will definitely be women’s sports,” you replied. She nodded and sipped at her drink again, never breaking her gaze from yours and you felt your cheeks warm again. Those eyes… they were dangerous; they lit up every nerve in your body and it felt good. You continued. “What about you? Are you much of a sports person?”

And to your total bafflement, the woman beamed at you, radiant and glowing, dimples in her cheeks as mirth shone in her eyes.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous and at somewhat of a loss.

The stranger let out a small chuckle, shook her head slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, an attempt to hide her smile. “Nothing, nothing. And yeah, I’m a big sports fan. Then a beat passed before she continued, “you ever thought of covering women’s football? There are plenty of matches happening in the domestic leagues right now.”

“Maybe I will,” you hummed, mulling it over. It sounded good actually. And then you asked, “what else do you suggest for someone to do in Barcelona?”

The woman downed her remaining drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. Before you knew it, you could feel the warmth of her breath against your ear and you shivered when she purred. “Dance, of course.”And then she was holding your hand, pulling you off of the stool you were on, and began dragging you to the direction of the dance floor.

All at once, warmth encompassed you: the crowd immediately swallowed you both, bodies pressed on you but the heat that emanated from the woman before you was the sole beacon for your attention. She had a loose arm around your waist and as the both of you danced to the music, you took that opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She slowed down and she still had enough height on you that she had to lower her head.

“I never caught your name,” you spoke into her ear.

“I’m Ale,” she replied. She pulled back to smile down at you. And then, she kissed you.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: meant to be a oneshot but im posting it as parts now 🥲 ill combine everything once i finish and post it on ao3 #meanwhile will reblog this to post future parts thats why the drop down is there ahahah #apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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moonstruckme · 5 months

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hii omg I absolutely adore your blog!! i love the interactions between the guys and reader, the way you write them makes them feel so so real 💫 I was wondering, how do you think they'd react to reader having a horrible nightmare and not being able to fall asleep? you dont have to write it ofc, and sorry for my english it's not my first language 🥰

Hi, thank you lovely! Please don't worry about your english, it's amazing and it'd be no problem even if it weren't, and thanks for requesting <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You wake with a tear already slithering down your face from the injustice of it. Your chest feels empty and crushed, and you press your palm to your breastbone as if that will ease the hollow ache. You come to terms quickly with the fact that none of it was real, you’re okay, but there’s still evidence of your terror and indignation in your too-hot skin. You pull the sheets covering you to the side so that half your body is exposed to the cool air.

“Hey.” The word is hardly more than a raspy exhale, Sirius’ voice slurred with sleep. You’d evidently slipped free of his arms at some point in the night. You distinctly remember falling asleep with his breath on your forehead, but now there’s nearly a foot of empty space between you. His face rubs against the pillowcase as he shifts to see you better. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though your voice is tight with unwanted tears. They keep squishing out of your eyes, like aftershocks of an earthquake that’s already fading from your memory. “Just a dream.”

Sirius reaches for your face. His hand is pleasantly cool against your skin, but he makes a sleepy discontented sound at the wetness he finds. “You’re crying.”

“Shh, you’ll wake them.” You cover his hand with yours, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’m okay, go back to sleep.”

Sheets rustle as James rolls over to face you. “Whas’ going on?”

You sigh. “Nothing, sorry.” You turn your face from Sirius’ touch, moving one leg over the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go get some water.”

“She’s crying,” Sirius tattles, though it’s hard to be too mad at him when his voice is still foggy with sleepy bemusement. He wraps his hand around your elbow. “Wait, stay.”

You go to shush him again, but then you see that Remus already has his eyes open. He’s been watching you quietly for who knows how long. Superb. At least your crying has finally stopped.

“What’s wrong, angel?” James says through a yawn, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he props himself up on his elbow to see you over Sirius. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah, just a dream,” you reassure him softly. “Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, though he still looks like he’s got weights sewn into his eyelids. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, thank you,” you say as kindly as you can. “I just want to get a drink, then I’ll go back to sleep.”

“I’ll get it for you, love.” Remus’ voice is rough. He rolls over and says warningly, “Light,” before turning on the lamp beside the bed. Sirius makes a low moan of protest, turning his face into the pillow, and you and James both squint your eyes. Remus passes James his glasses, sitting up to get out of bed.

“I can get it,” you object. You go to mirror him, but Sirius holds fast to your elbow, preventing you from moving off the mattress.

“No, I know better.” Remus steps into his slippers. “I’ve got it, you stay.”

You watch guiltily as he plods out of the room, then turn to James and Sirius with a bemused look. He knows better?

James gives you a small smile, tinged with apology. “Whenever you say you’re going to get water in the middle of the night, you never come back,” he explains as Sirius wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you closer. “None of us wants you to deal with these things on your own, angel.”

Your face starts heating again with the knowledge that they’ve found you out. You do often say you’re going for water after nightmares like these, so that your boyfriends will go back to sleep even though you can’t. You usually end up sitting in the living room, distracting yourself with sudoku or reading until it’s a reasonable hour to make breakfast and pretend you’ve only just woken up.

“Give ‘er here, Pads,” James says at your touched silence. “We can share.”

Sirius holds you to his front and rolls over, situating you between him and James on the bed. James takes your face in his hands and sets about kissing your salty cheeks, lips wet and smooshed and more loving than you could ever deserve. You can’t help but smile as he does it, and Sirius makes a quiet sound of satisfaction, giving your middle an appreciative squeeze.

“They’re just dreams,” you argue when James pauses. “I don’t need to be babied over something that didn’t really happen.”

“They’re still upsetting,” Remus says as he comes in with a cup of water, “aren’t they?”

“Sort of, I guess.” You sit up to take the cup from him, doing your best to convey your gratitude through a look. He gives you a tired smile as he gets back in bed beside James. “But it’s like, half the time I don’t even know what I’m upset about. I forget them.”

Sirius disentangles his arms from you as you sit upright. He settles for rubbing your lower back instead. “But you can’t sleep afterward.” It’s not a question.

You take a sip of water, speaking quietly into the cup. “I think I get too worked up.”

“That’s alright, darling.” Remus’ voice is soft and smooth as butter. “Your body’s just still working through the emotions of it all, yeah? But maybe, instead of running off and staying up all night, you could let us help you.”

You look over at him. The warm light from the lamp makes his mussed brown hair look golden as he watches you consideringly. “How?” you ask tentatively.

“Seems like all you need is to calm down,” James says, looking up at you from where his head rests on the pillow just beside your hip. You want to squirm at all the attention, but there’s nothing pitying in his gaze. “We can at least try to help with that.”

You hesitate, and Remus reaches over, wrapping his hand around your cup. “Done with this, lovely?” He takes it when you nod and sets it down on the nightstand. “Alright, lie down.”

You do as he says, shimmying beneath the covers. Remus shuts off the light.

Sirius’ grip is solid as he turns you by your hips, setting your back to his front. “Still feeling too warm?” he asks softly.

You blink into the darkness. “How’d you know?”

He chuckles, and you feel his lips press against the back of your head a moment before his hands snake under your pajama shirt, cool palms pressed flat to your stomach. “Because I know you, sweet girl.”

“Do you think taking some deep breaths would help?” Remus murmurs.

You’re not sure, but you try, counting as your lungs expand and contract until they start to feel a bit more like their normal size.

“There you go.” James’ lips press to the spot between your brows. “Does that feel better, angel?”

“Yeah,” you admit. The word emerges like a sigh. Your voice is slipping away, quieting as you grow drowsy. Sirius can tell, and he begins to rub his palm slowly back and forth across your ribs. It grows warm against your skin, but you don’t mind so much anymore. “Thank you guys. Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling.” Remus’ words start to slur as his own sleep finds him. “We’d always rather all be awake than leave you by yourself.”

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wakatshi · 2 years

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𖥾 ゚ ࣭ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | &. — f! reader, spit kink, mentions of alcohol & being drunk, (briefly) penetration, finger sucking | wc : 600 words

thinking about SIMON RILEY who has the nastiest spit kink and it gets even worse when you ask him to spit his whiskey in your mouth.

but in your defense, you’re drunk, somewhere between having enough courage to wake up and beg him to do it and falling asleep. you’re eyeing him up from across the room, seated on a barstool, you’ve been too preoccupied emptying every single bottle of booze this bar has to offer with soap and gaz, who are now talking to simon. he’s leaning against the wall with a whiskey glass in his hand, probably very much aware you’re gawking at him.

“you’ve had enough,” simon is standing right in front of you, he can tell you’ve been heavily drinking based on your reaction. you didn’t see him coming.

“what are you talking about?”

“you’re pissed, dollface. let’s get you back. can you walk?”

“…no.”

“acting helpless, are we?”

“hey, wait,” you grab his arm, ”been thinking, have you, uh… ever spat in someone’s mouth? i mean booze. obviously.”

“you want me to spit my bourbon in your mouth?”

”i didn’t say that,” your drunken smile betrays you.

“but you were about to. don’t lie,” he pauses for a moment, “i’ll do it.”

“just like that?”

“just like that.”

“are you drunk, simon?”

standing right above you, simon towers over you with his height and the wooden stool becomes uncomfortably small. with the liquor in your blood system, a pleasant numbness takes over your body and muscles. your can’t think straight and definitely not about the consequences and awkwardness that are about to follow. you tingle with excitement or could it be nervousness?

suddenly you become aware of your surroundings, the dim lights, the trashy music playing in the background, the voices filling the warm air, all at once — as if you’re not drunk anymore and you’ve come back to your senses. simon makes you nervous, he still has that effect on you sometimes.

simon leans forward with an arm resting on the counter behind you and his aura is more enticing than ever. there’s a faint smell of cologne, cigars and alcohol, the warmth of his body barely a few inches away from you, all mixed together in the most addictive combination.

simon pulls up his mask and gives you a small peck, you savor the mere few seconds before he pulls back. you lick your lips instinctively as if you’re trying to taste him. he presses his thumb against your lower lip and you open your mouth, “ready?” you mumble an mhm. bitter alcohol and spit flood out of his mouth and you swallow greedily, but it doesn’t feel like alcohol anymore.

he kisses you again and you happily comply, he’s everything you’ve been craving tonight, as drunk as you are — the liquor on his lips, this, the way he tastes, you can’t get enough of him and he can tell by the way you shamelessly explore his body with your hands. you moan in his mouth, your bodies are almost colliding against each other.

゚

and when he splits your pussy in half with his cock, simon slips his thumb between your wet lips and then his index, exploring your mouth, pumping them in and out, coating them with hot saliva, eventually spitting in your mouth.

he's truly awful. he doesn’t stop fucking you, he thrusts harder, balls deep inside your cunt, his fingers massaging your sensitive clit. he knows how much you like it and he’ll go even faster to get a reaction out of you.

“open your mouth wider for me, love.”

likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated 🤍

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ NOTE | &. — wanna write more for simon and i already have a few ideas i’ve written down. i’ll be writing a proper smut next week i swear !! i was too focused on the spit kink ngl. but anyways feel free to send me thirsts/suggestions/requests etc i’d love to write some fluff for simon actually <3

#simon riley #simon riley fic #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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rukunas · 2 years

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post inspired by this, also this is a complete self-insert bc i hate one of my roommates LMAOOO hope she never sees this…. completely unedited too i’m sorry

cw: bakugo is in his 20s + reader is in college, suggestive

pro!hero bakugo always wonders why you don’t ever invite him back to your place.

well, to be fair, his place is amazing. even for just starting his agency, he gets a decent pay, and he put his first check into a penthouse that overlooks the whole city. crystal clear windows that go from the ceiling to the floor, more rooms than he can use— so of course, he randomly finds your things littered around everywhere. you probably like his place even more than him.

but he knows you have a place at your college campus. you’ve never invited him inside, though, always hurrying out the door whenever he picks you up. you’ve complained to him about one of your roommates once, but besides that, he knows nothing.

“what are you doing here?”

bakugo’s busy peering in over your head, trying to catch a glimpse of anything in your apartment. “brought you dinner. can i come in?”

it’s funny watching him, seeing how shocked he is at seeing how you live. “your kitchen is so small. how do ya fuckin’ cook in here?” “this painting isn’t bolted. do ya want it to kill ya?” and his reaction to your bedroom— “fucking hell. how do you have so much stuff?!”

it’s even funnier when he complains about the size of your twin bed as he rams into you.

“fuck.” he spits out angrily, sweat dripping down his brow as he curves his back to keep his frame above you and most importantly, on the damn bed. he gets why you like his place so much.

sleeping together afterwards is a whole other story. he takes up the whole bed—mind you, his feet hang off— and you’re left to lay on top of him, limbs all tangled up. (he honestly kind of likes it, but he’ll never admit it).

bakugo wakes up in the middle of the night to find you at your desk, typing away at some essay due tomorrow morning.

“come back in bed.”

“‘m almost finished. promise. just need to proofread and edit and… shit, what format do i need to use?”

bakugo sighs, lifting out of bed. “can i get water?”

“yeah, my brita is in the fridge. it’s blue and has my name on it.”

he’s standing in the glow of the fridge light, trying to figure out where the fuck your brita is, when someone shrieks.

“h-holy shit! you’re— you’re dynamight!” your roommate— the one you’ve said is annoying, always asks for my homework answers, never takes out the trash. “holy shit!”

“oh, um.” bakugo realizes too late that he’s only in his boxers. “yeah. do you know where my girl’s brita is? said it’s blue.”

her eyes bulge out of her head. “oh! i used it by accident.” she laughs awkwardly, grabbing it off the counter to hand it to him. “forgot to refill it though.”

bakugo feels his own blood boil. he recalls the time he lived with denki— the fucker would do the exact same thing. before he can open his mouth to spew out everything you’ve said about her, your face pops around the corner.

“hey, i finished. did you get water?”

“yeah.” he manages to pour in half a glass before the brita empties. he hands the glass to you. “drink this. i’ll refill it.”

“thanks, baby.” you try pecking his cheek, but he turns his head so that you reach his lips. he smirks into it, wrapping his arm around your waist but quickly realizes that he has an audience.

your roommate gapes at the two of you, jaw practically on the floor. “you didn’t tell me you’re dating dynamight.”

“um… yeah.” you nod your head stiffly. “if you’re going to use my brita, can you at least fill it up?”

you tug bakugo’s arm to bring him back to your room, ignoring (but also basking in) the way your roommate still stands in utter shock.

the next morning, he finds himself on the carpet. he must have rolled off the bed in his sleep. his final straw.

so, he proposes you move in with him. it’s better if your place also happens to be his.

#this is so pathetic but i dreamt ab this #i want pro hero bakugo to lay on my bed while i write my fucking lab report #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff

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try-set-me-on-fire · 7 months

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Okay, fuck it Friday! Thanks for the tags @forthewolves @lover-of-mine @devirnis @rewritetheending @daffi-990! Here is a silly little fic I’m adding to the soft prompts collection!

Eddie pats down his jacket, making sure his wallet hasn’t magically teleported out of it in the hour or two since he took it off.

“The mint kind, dad, remember.”

“I got it.”

There’s the sound of glass clattering in the kitchen, ringing as loud as the laughter that accompanies it. In the living room there’s sudden cheering as one of the kids gets ahead of another in whatever video game they’ve set up. Beside him, Chimney is counting on his fingers.

“It’s-Its, mint kind. Drumsticks. Rocket pops. Bobby wants neapolitan. Those caramel chocolate bar things for Hen and Karen.”

“Are you going to have room in your freezer for all this?” Eddie wonders, thinking about how packed his own freezer is. He should really clean it out. Maybe Buck’ll come over next day off and help. He loves leftovers, and organizing.

“I’m fully expecting everyone to eat themselves sick so it won’t be a problem,” Chim shrugs. “Rocky road for you, yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay.” Chimney squints. “I can’t remember what Buck said.” He squints more specifically in Eddie’s direction, clearly waiting for a response.

And Eddie could say Well, Buck cycles through ice cream favorites every few weeks because he likes to try new things. It’s been white chocolate raspberry recently, but he might be ready to switch it up, it’s been long enough, and the kind he likes is sort of expensive so he would never ask you to get it for him, but that feels like the kind of statement that would get him that sort of raised eyebrow flat mouth look he doesn’t understand so he goes with “Uh, I’ll ask.”

Buck is leaning on the counter sandwiched between Hen and Bobby, half full drink in his hand entirely forgotten and listing a little dangerously to the left as he listens to Karen talk about a new project at work. He’s smiling like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, and his eyes are wide in the way they get when he’s absorbed in a story, and Eddie doesn’t want to interrupt but his son has no such qualms.

“Buck, are you gonna come take your turn on mario kart? Nobody can beat May.”

Buck’s smile turns into his Christopher smile, wide and eyes crinkly. “I’ll be there in a minute, bud. Save rainbow road for me.”

“Buck, what ice cream did you want?”

Buck’s attention flicks over to him. “Oh, I’ll just take one of the drumsticks or something.” A beat or two passes while Eddie makes an unimpressed face and Buck laughs, ducking his head. “Fine, I’ll- uh, if they have something coffee flavored that looks good I’ll take that.”

“Alright-“

“Oh, Eddie, while you’re there will you pick up more Doritos?” Maddie asks, waving cheesy fingers over an empty bowl.

“Sure.”

“Ooh, and barbecue chips?” Hen asks, head tilted to the side imploringly.

“Yeah, okay-“

“If you get an avocado or two I think there’s everything to make guacamole,” Bobby says thoughtfully.

“Uh-“

Buck grins at him. “I’ll text you a list.”

“Thank you,” Eddie grins back, and then turns to Chris. “Alright mijo, we’ll be back in a bit.”

“Okay,” Chris says. “And can you get butter popcorn?”

“They’ve got the kernel kind, and a popper and everything.”

“I like the microwave kind,” Chris says, pouting a little. “It’s a party, dad.”

Eddie snorts, but also immediately gives in. “Fine. See you in a minute with your nasty popcorn, sir.”

He leans down to kiss Chris' forehead, leans up to kiss Buck, pats his pocket one more time (wallet still there) and then heads down the hallway. Chimney is standing there frozen, so Eddie steps around him towards the door. He’s probably trying to think of his own chip preference, like he’s not as big of a Doritos fan as Maddie is. Eddie wonders if the corner store they’re going to will have the salt and vinegar chips Buck likes-

Buck-

Eddie feels a strange sensation like all his muscles locking up for a moment, before he slowly turns around.

“What did I… just… do?”

Chimney — who, there it is, he’s making the face, eyebrows raised and mouth flat, though it looks slightly more hysterical than usual — shakes his head and throws up his hands in a shrug. Helpful. Eddie stumbles the few steps back towards the kitchen. Buck is talking to Karen now, though everyone else in the room is also making the face with varying levels of giddy intensity. When Bobby sees Eddie come back in the room he has to hide his expression behind his glass of orange juice.

“-never knew that worms played such an important part in-“ Buck’s voice suddenly squeaks to a halt mid sentence, and he whips around to stare open mouthed at Eddie in the doorway. “Did- did you?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie nods, eyebrows furrowed. “Is that- uh. Is that okay?”

“Y- yeah, Eddie- yeah.”

Buck moves towards him and Eddie is pulled in his direction like a magnet. They meet in the middle of the kitchen and grab each other’s hands. Eddie is vaguely aware of Maddie’s muffled giggling somewhere to his right, but it doesn’t seem to matter very much at the moment.

“Should-" Buck looks and sounds absolutely confused, and is clinging tight to his hands. "Should we get married?”

“What?” Eddie laughs, remembering the time he’d held Julia Stanton’s hand in kindergarten and she’d told him that meant they were husband and wife. “I- we only just-“ but, suddenly, he imagines it. Being married to Buck. Waking up to him every day, and doing taxes together. It’s all he wants, it’s what he wants more than anything. “Okay,” he says, nodding his head in a frantic yes. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Oh, lord,” Bobby laughs in the background, setting his glass on the counter so he can rest his hands on his knees. Hen rubs his back, other hand covering her face as she tries not to lose it.

“Yeah?” Buck asks, looking stunned, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Yes, I’d- I want- you’re beautiful.” Eddie lets go of one of Buck’s hands — oh, he thinks he’d like to hold his hand forever, why did they never do this before — and puts his palm on Buck’s cheek, tracing under his eye with his thumb. “I gotta go get ice cream first though.”

“Oh my god,” says Karen, voice strangled.

“I’ll go with you,” Buck decides, but then Chimney is there with his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Oh no,” he says, “We let the two of you go and we’ll lose you in the night, and then there will be no ice cream and the children will riot.”

“You’re the one who was demanding drumsticks in the first place,” Eddie points out, not even looking away from Buck’s face.

“And I will join the mob with the pitchforks. Let’s go, lover boy.” Chimney leans over to pat Buck's arm. "I promise I'll get your- jesus, are we accepting that as an actual proposal- yeah? Okay- I'll get your fiancé back swiftly and in one piece."

Eddie can do nothing but grin dumbly back at Buck as Chimney all but drags him outside. There are stars out, sort of, as many as you ever get in a city as big as Los Angeles, and Eddie feels a strange urge to write poetry about them.

"Did you know I was in love with him?"

"Had a pretty good idea," Chim says, voice strained.

"Why didn't I know that?"

Chimney hacks a cough into his elbow. "I- I really couldn't possibly answer that."

It's taking Eddie a tremendous amount of effort to put one foot in front of the other in the right order. "I feel like I'm drunk."

Chimney claps him on the shoulder. "You're going through a lot of change."

Eddie thinks about it for a moment. "No, I'm not."

“Hm?”

Chimney spins around to face Eddie as he stops walking all together. “It’s… I mean, we might get to kiss now,” Eddie says, pulse suddenly feverish as he considers that for a few seconds. He shakes his head to get back on track. “But… It’s Buck. Haven’t… I mean… It’s always been like this. My life is his already.”

Chimney is making a new face now, still a smile but it’s twisted up sideways and his eyes are a little watery. He throws his head back with a wet scoffing sound and hooks his arm through Eddie’s, tugging him along again. “Well, what the fuck, I’m stupidly happy for you. Unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” Eddie laughs, leaning into him a little. “Oh shit, I- I have to get a ring.”

Chimney cackles into his shoulder. “Might be a difficult find at the corner store, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

When they stagger through the doors of the 24 hour market a few blocks from Maddie and Chimney’s place the bored clerk looks at them like they are drunk, and Eddie tries to take a few steadying breaths. “I’ll get ice cream, you grab snacks?”

Chimney nods, and they split up. Eddie stares down at the freezer and tries to remember any list of anything he’s ever learned in his life before his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Buck 8:43 PM Mint It’s-Its, drumsticks, rocket pops, neapolitan, caramel bars, rocky road, coffee ice cream?, Doritos, barbecue chips, avocados (and tortilla chips please), microwave popcorn

Buck 8:44 PM also I didn’t say it but I love you Eddie

Buck 8:44 PM sorry I should have waited for you to get back to say it maybe but

Buck 8:45 PM I just wanted you to know it. I didn’t want there to be any more time where you didn’t know it.

Eddie’s breath catches somewhere between lungs and throat. He’s standing close enough to the freezer box that he can feel it’s hum in his knees, or maybe that’s just Buck.

“Hey, Diaz.”

Eddie turns in time to catch the small package Chimney tosses at him. Peach rings. Eddie laughs a little helplessly.

Eddie 8:47 PM i am going to be back so soon and tell you in person but me too buck

Eddie grabs all the ice cream in record time if anyone ever recorded the time for such things, and the rest of the trip feels like a race. He taps his foot as the poor clerk scans everything while shooting him vaguely unimpressed looks, and he’s at least a few feet ahead of Chimney the whole walk back. Finally, the door, finally the hallway, finally Eddie is bursting back into the kitchen. Buck is standing with Bobby’s arm around his shoulders and Chris leaning against his side and he looks lit up with happiness, smile practically glowing. Eddie feels an answering one on his own face.

“Here,” he says, holding the ice cream bag out sideways and hoping someone will take it. Karen does, with a snort. “Oh, uh, wait-“ Eddie leans over to dig for the bag of gummies, grabbing his prize and grinning at her. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she laughs, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before starting to dig out the ice cream for distribution.

When Eddie looks up Buck has moved to stand in front of him. “Hi.”

Buck ducks his head like his smile is too heavy to hold it up anymore. “Hi, Eds.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, taking the half step necessary to press close to him all over. “Hey, I love you. I love you, too. I didn’t realize, but I absolutely do.”

Buck laughs, what a wonderful sound, and wipes his eyes with one hand. “I love you so much, Eddie.”

“Okay!” Laughter goes up around them. “Okay, I have-“ Eddie tears open the plastic, fishes out a single peach ring. “It’s the best I could do short notice.”

“What…” Buck looks down at the candy, and then starts laughing and crying harder as Eddie grabs his hand and does his best to roll the gummy circle onto his ring finger. “Wait, I- I was the one who proposed.”

“There’s a whole bag of them,” Eddie says, waving it around. “You wanna-“

“Yeah, uh huh-“ Buck takes a peach ring of his own, slides it onto Eddie’s finger, and it’s truly ridiculous but even in this Buck treats him so gently, cradling Eddie’s hand like it’s a precious thing. It makes Eddie feel a little lightheaded. The sugar of the gummy is gritty against his skin, and he has to hold his fingers weird to accommodate the bulk of it, but Buck is looking at them like they’d just exchanged diamonds, and Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever been in a more perfect moment. But then Buck leans down and Eddie moves forward and they’re kissing, really kissing, Buck’s arms sliding around his waist like they’re meant to fit there and Eddie cradling his face between his hands, and Chris shouts in delighted disgust and there’s cheering and more laughter around them, and Eddie thinks, stunned, that he might get a life of perfect moments with this man.

They are surrounded by friends and family, so Buck pulls back before either of them can really get lost in each other. “You’re sure?” He whispers. “You don’t have to- I was just- you actually want to get married?”

“Yes,” Eddie says immediately. “And also come home, please. Every day, like- move in with me. You don’t have to use the couch.”

Chimney snorts behind them. Buck nods, and they’re close enough that his nose almost pokes Eddie in the eye. “Yeah, yeah- I wanna come home.”

Eddie kisses him again — perfect, the way their lips fit together is perfect — and then looks for Chris. “Hey, mijo, you wanna have a sleepover?”

“Sure,” Chris says, “With who?”

“Uh.” Eddie cranes to look around Buck at anyone else in the room.

“We’ll take him,” Hen says, raising a hand and looking extremely amused and entirely fond.

“With Denny,” Eddie says to Chris.

“Okay,” Chris says, crunching his face up. “I don’t want to be there if you’re going home to make out.”

“We absolutely are,” Eddie says, as Buck sputters a little. He disentangles himself from Eddie and crouches in front of Chris.

“Chris… I just want to make sure this is okay with you. I- I love your dad very much, and I love you so much, and if it makes you uncomfortable-“

“Buck,” Chris says, slightly exasperated, as he wraps his arms around his shoulders in a hug. “I love you, too. And I kind of thought you were married for awhile when I was little, so you’re just catching up.”

“Oh,” Buck says, watery. “Yeah?”

“You take care of us,” Chris says, leaning back to look at him. “And you’re at our house all the time.”

Buck laughs, and Eddie’s lungs stutter along with him. “Well, okay then. I’ll keep doing both of those things. Sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” Chris says, already looking towards the living room. “Are you going to play Mario kart, now?”

“Uh,” Buck says, looking up at Eddie. “Is it okay if I take a rain check on that?”

Chris heaves a sigh. “Fine, but you better practice for next time. May still hasn’t lost.”

“And I’m not going to!” She calls from the other room. “Also, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Buck and Eddie call together. Buck gives Chris another hug, and Eddie squeezes him tight as he makes his way to the living room.

“Bye, Superman. We’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Buck takes his hand again. Eddie wants to kiss him again, but he thinks once he starts he might never stop. “Anybody mind if we duck out early?” He asks the room at large, fully planning on backing out the door no matter what the answer is.

Chimney pats his arm. “Please for the love of god leave my home.”

“Got it,” Eddie says, pulling a giggling Buck towards the door.

“Paperwork!” Bobby calls. “Monday! And don’t get married until I can get everyone the day off!”

“I-“ Eddie looks into Buck’s eyes, kisses him once on the cheek because they’re in the hallway and no one can see them anymore probably. “I’m not gonna make any promises about that.”

“Wait-“

“Bye!” Buck calls, cheerfully, and then they’re out on the front porch.

And, well, they’re really out of sight of the others now, so Eddie pulls him down for another kiss, intent on finding out what his molars taste like, but then the door is opening again.

“Gross,” Chimney says. “Take your ice cream with you.”

Rocky road and coffee, still cold but getting warmer, land not entirely gracefully in Eddie’s arms. The door closes again. “I told him he wouldn’t have freezer room. These are gonna melt.”

Buck takes his tub, grinning a mile wide. “We better get home quick, then.”

“For the ice cream,” Eddie nods, cheeks hurting with his smile.

“Yep.” Buck says. “The ice cream.”

They clasp their free hands together, and then, breathless and laughing, run to the car.

It’s kind of late but if anyone is still around and has stuff to post (you could also consider this as being tagged for inspiration Saturday if you want) @callaplums @shortsighted-owl @buckactuallys @shitouttabuck @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @bigfootsmom @henswilsons @homerforsure

#buddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #911 abc #my writing #goofy!! they’re goofy!!!!

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minkdelovely · 2 months

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love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter three “is this the life that lies ahead now?”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: drinking on an empty stomach (do not attempt in real life, but this is hell baby), allusions to poisoning, reader is hungover and has a poor appetite, uh oh art thou pining?, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.8k

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine

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After getting some water you tried falling back asleep to no avail, tossing and turning for at least an hour before deciding to call it quits.

Leaving the hotel in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea, but you felt like you’d start tearing at the wallpaper if you stayed in your room. Cliche as it was, fresh air had always helped you relax while you were living. You thought back to the family garden and sighed. You’d give anything to be able to sit there now.

Your thoughts drifted to your father as you changed out of your pajamas. Things had changed so much in your day-to-day after coming to the hotel that you realized you couldn’t remember the last time he had crossed your mind. You felt a tightness in your throat when you tried to remember what he looked like. It was hazy, but he was mostly there; strong with a brilliant smile. How long would it be before you couldn’t remember him at all? Even the way you heard his voice in your mind didn’t seem completely right, an imitation of a memory.

Was he doing okay? Was he still mourning you? Or did he think you were just missing? Did the money go through? Did he know what you did for him to get it? There was no way to know.

“Can’t sleep?”

You jumped at the sound of Husker’s voice, so lost in thought and determined to get out of there that you hadn’t noticed him at the bar. It wasn’t surprising that he was still down here, though, being just before midnight. In fact, the real surprise was that he was here by himself. You decided to put leaving on pause and made your way over to him, taking advantage of the rare moment of privacy. Besides, what good would it do to dismiss Husker when he had been so discreet about this morning?

“More like slept too much,” you said, sighing as you took a seat across from him.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Husk jabbed amiably, turning to grab an empty glass.

You groaned. “Well there goes my hope of looking better than I feel. I was thinking maybe a walk would help, but—” Husk gave you a look, rightly making you feel sheepish.

“Didn’t go so hot this morning, huh? Thought you’d have better luck at night?” he said, half-joking, and passed you an amber-colored drink. The worry must’ve been showing on your face, as he cooly added, “Don’t worry, it’s been a ghost town in here for over an hour. It’s still only me and Angel who know about what happened.”

“Is he at work right now?” you asked, relaxing a little and took a casual look around. “I really don’t know how I can make it up to you both. This morning I…,” you sighed again and ran a hand through your hair, feeling the exhaustion seep back in. “I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll just forget about it, or convince myself it was a nightmare or something. But I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

You recalled your reflection in the mirror before you showered, unrecognizable to yourself under the layer of gore caked to your skin.

Husk waved his hand, but the softness in his eyes felt like a rock in your stomach. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve both seen crazier shit in our time. But yeah, he’s been gone for most of the day. Said Valentino was having an ‘emergency’ but I have my doubts. He’s always pulling Angel in for dumb shit.”

You nodded and finally took a sip of your drink, shocked by how much you enjoyed it. A pleasant bitter taste lingered in your mouth, and you had to actively fight the urge to chug down the rest of it.

“Valentino’s his boss, right? Alastor’s done a pretty good job of keeping me preoccupied, but I think I’ve heard you guys talking about him before.”

“That’s the simplest thing to call him, I guess, though I prefer to call him an asshole,” Husk grumbled and you both shared a small laugh, the alcohol already making you feel lighter.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, Husk refilling your glass as you rested your head in your hand, gazing through the windows to the city below. Would you be able to pinpoint the alley if you concentrated hard enough? Someone had to have stumbled on him by now, right? Like his little sidekick… Did he ever go back for Donny? Something else clicked into place as you thought of him and the events of the morning: unless someone came after you for retribution, you would get away with it. That’s just how life is here.

No missing person report, no investigation, no forensics, no trial, no jail sentence. Weren’t you already “doing time” by being here? It’s not like you could add on to it. Not that you intended to do it again, but it was a step in the right direction of making peace with yourself. Maybe you really would forget about it someday, maybe not. There were some things that stuck with you forever.

The image of your grandmother came to you then, the last time you had spoken with her. She was sitting in her favorite chair near the fireplace in the library, her face set in the ever-present scowl you resented so much. She really was such a miserable creature. You saw yourself place the tray of tea and almond shortbread cookies down on the dark-lacquered, antique coffee table between you, knowing it would the last thing she ever ate. And tried to fight the smile pulling at your lips.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“It occurred to me in the night that you still owe me something from the butcher,” Alastor said casually, his face buried in the newspaper. Irritation shot through you quick as lightning, but you prevailed against the urge to dump the coffee you were bringing him all over his lap.

As the grandfather clock in Alastor’s room chimed the hour, the pulse in your head threatened to kill. Apparently hangovers were very real in Hell (because of course they were), and this one was a doozy. Husk had only given you three drinks, but since you had wrung yourself so dry it was enough to leave you feeling like absolute shit. Beyond some water, the only thing you managed to ingest so far this morning was a piece of plain, burnt toast to try and soothe your aching stomach. It had taken all you had to keep it down. Needless to say, you weren’t starting the day in the best of moods.

Not that you ever thought Alastor would take it easy on you anyway. The look he gave you when you showed up in your new dress was so self-satisfied that it made you want to crawl under a rock. And when he said that you looked like death warmed over, you wanted to use said rock to knock his teeth in. It was the first you had seen of him since the incident in your room yesterday, though you tried not to dwell on the fact that he had returned at some point while you were asleep. In the grand scheme of his behavior you’ve been exposed to, that was really the least of your worries.

Through the veil of annoyance you found yourself looking at the mug in his grasp, remembering the strength of his hand holding your chin. Your breath shallowed as he brought the rim up to his lips. Fuck. Tearing your eyes away, you did your best to swallow the lump in your throat. This couldn’t be happening.

He was just toying with you yesterday. Nothing new, you told yourself. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes how much he enjoys feeling superior. Not that you had ever seen him pull a stunt like that on anyone else, but who knows? It’s not like you were with him every second of the day. Even in this very moment, he was messing with you.

Was it your fault that he had only grabbed his clothes off the filthy floor of that alley and left the other bag to rot? Of course he’d see it that way, and if your headache wasn’t as terrible as it was, you might have told him exactly that. Especially considering that you were already out money for the liver, and he was more than likely expecting you to pay again.

“I’ll head out after I’ve finished with your room, unless you’d prefer I go now and clean when I get back,” you answered smoothly, hoping he’d give you permission for the latter. How he had even managed to track in the dirt you saw on the area rug was a mystery. You just knew that it would keep you busy for a decent amount of time and you weren’t looking forward to more scrubbing on your hands and knees. “And if the clothes are ready to be picked up again, I can get those, too.”

Alastor peered over the newspaper, eyebrow raised, his eyes and smile alight with mischief. “My, someone’s eager to be in my good graces today! No need to bother with the laundry, but I hope you won’t mind if I join you going into town. I don’t feel like staying cooped up in the hotel. Go ahead and clean now, I’d hate for those stains on the rug to set. Besides, you know how I despise coming home to a mess.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

While he waited for you to return after freshening up, Alastor took a look around his room, admiring the results of your hard work. You were turning out to be much more resilient than he had anticipated. Though your expression was hardly ever enthusiastic, you’d never be able to tell by the way you cleaned. Someone taught you well, he thought to himself, breathing in the scent of cleaning products that nearly overpowered the floral almond you always left behind. So pleasant.

Though if he was being honest, he was starting to run out of ideas on how to keep you busy. He would mess up the bed, despite rarely sleeping in it, and leave his housecoat, shirts, and bowties draped over various pieces of furniture for you to pick up and put in their proper place. The mud and dirt on the rug had been a last-minute stroke of genius, but it wasn’t something he cared to repeat too often. God forbid he became predictable.

There was part of his room you didn’t have access to, and Alastor doubted that he’d ever let you see it — nor anyone else, for that matter. It’s not like it was a space you’d be able to clean in a traditional sense, anyway. After the hotel was rebuilt he thought it would be a nice idea to separate his serene bayou from the rest of the living quarters. Remembering how Vaggie had so rudely barged in on him in the past, it wasn’t something he was keen on happening again. And it was comical to watch you glancing at the locked door, pondering what could be behind it.

He knew he couldn’t keep you cooped up as his personal chambermaid forever though, unless he wanted to be hounded by Charlie and Vaggie about it. Which he decidedly did not want. And he could admit that this cleaning game was getting stale… How could he switch things up before he tired of you completely? How could he get you to show him another spectacle like yesterday?

A knock at the door snapped The Radio Demon out of his thoughts.

“Alastor? Can I come in?” Charlie said from the other side of the door. By the tone in her voice, he could tell she was here to discuss business. He sighed quietly to himself and went to the door, swinging it open with a charming smile.

“Why of course, my dear! How may I be of service?” Alastor closed the door behind them and led her to one of the chairs by the fireplace, taking the one opposite her and crossed his legs, neatly folding his hands over one knee. “It’s just the two of us. Sylvie left to go spruce up before we head into town,” he said, noting how Charlie was glancing around the room.

“Oh, good!” she sighed, putting her hand over her chest in relief. “That’s, um, kind of what I came here to talk to you about. I know you’ve been…,” she paused, hands dancing as she searched for the right word, “…acclimating her to working here — and I don’t want to step on your toes — but I think it would be really nice if she could join in on daily activities. No one has really gotten a chance to get to know her yet, and I’d hate for her to keep missing out on opportunities to bond with everyone.”

He had jinxed himself, but at least it was only the princess he had to deal with.

What to do? It’s not like he could say that your cleaning skills needed improvement when evidence to the contrary surrounded them; the room was pristine. He could argue that it would be prudent to keep some level of permanent staff unless they wanted to be in a never-ending state of training new hires, but something told him that wouldn’t be the best approach. At least not for now. Alastor had no intention of letting any souls under his contract be taken from him, for redemption or otherwise. Still, seeing the others develop their relationships with each other had been fun to observe. How would little Sylvie fit into the dynamic?

“I suppose I’ve been a bit selfish with her, haven’t I? I’ll be sure to leave room in her schedule starting tomorrow, but I hope you’ll understand that mornings are sacrosanct,” Alastor said agreeably, straightening his coat as he stood up from the chair. “Unless there was anything else, I’ll go and tell her the good news.”

Charlie followed suit, grin wide and eyes sparkling as they made their way back to the door. “Of course! Oh, thank you Alastor, you have no idea how excited I am!” It was impossible not to. Her enthusiasm was nearly contagious. “Vaggie and I are thinking something up right now as a surprise for everyone, but the details haven’t been totally worked out yet. I’ll let you know as soon as possible though — gah! I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

Alastor merely smiled in response and they parted ways in the hall. He wasn’t thrilled to be losing his monopoly on you so soon, but knowing that he now had to be more intentional with his time was invigorating. Curious to see how you’ll react to being invited to group activities, he made his way to your room, already hard at work thinking of new ways to push your buttons.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You were surprised to see Alastor in the hall when you opened your door, since you had been instructed to return to his room when you were finished touching up. The quick jump-scare he caused sent a fresh wave of throbbing to your head and you hissed under your breath, unable to stop yourself from massaging your temple.

“You’re up to something,” you grumbled, walking past him to make your way to the elevators.

He feigned offense, easily stepping into stride with you down the hall. “Chivalry is lost on you twenty-first-century souls! I don’t know why I bother.”

You glared at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the sardonic look on his face as you stepped into the elevator. It was best not to push your luck with him, considering you still had an entire outing in Cannibal Town to get through. You were about to say something when the elevator stopped after going down a couple floors, the doors opening to Angel Dust. He looked exhausted.

When the two of you made eye contact, he glanced away, the air in the elevator quickly turning nervous as he walked in. Was it because of yesterday? Maybe Angel hadn’t been as comfortable with it as Husk made it seem… Suddenly he hit a button, stopping the elevator in its tracks. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, steeling himself.

“Hey, so… you know how you came home lookin’ like fuckin’ Carrie yesterday?”

You felt Alastor’s static humming in the space between you; the first reaction he’s had since Angel came into the elevator.

“I wanted to apologize sooner but—”

Angel waved his hands, cutting you off. “No, no, please, you don’t have to,” he said, a small laugh escaping him. “Look, uh… I’m only bringin’ it up cuz I just gotta know.” He was actively fighting a smile as he continued, “The trouble you ran into? His name wasn’t Donny, was it?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #slow burn #song fic #if i can’t have love i want power #love and power #x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

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dearharriet · 2 months

Note

hi lovely ! it's milunalupin :)

could i please request remus + "i waited for you" ? 🫶🏼✨

hello my friend, ty for the request!! im working on my big boy fic for james rn but i wanted a little bit of remus as a break <3 (wc: 691)

“You smell good.”

Remus looks at the man taking a seat across from him, appalled by such a comment. Sirius looks equally stunned saying it, wrinkled nose a mirror of Remus’.

“Thank you?”

Sirius shakes his head like this is the wrong response.

“Why do you smell good?”

Remus rolls his eyes, keeping his posture aloof. “Took my annual bath last night.”

Sirius scoffs. “‘Bout time. Your stench was getting harsh on my delicate canine senses.”

That pulls a laugh from Remus, however small.

By the door, he sees you squeezing into the packed pub, side-stepping between rowdy groups of people and looking around. You’re wearing a mid-length skirt, and when you spot the two boys in their booth it swishes around each hasty step.

“Hi,” you breathe, “I’m sorry. They made me start inventory and then I just had to shower and—” Remus stands to offer you some seclusion via the walled side of the bench seat. You wave your rambling apologies away, winded from running around all day. “Nevermind. I need a drink, Remus. Come with?”

“Sit,” he demands softly, “I’ll fetch it.”

You do as you’re told, hanging onto Remus’ words like a takeout fortune, foolishly hopeful that they mean something. If Sirius didn’t demand so much attention, you’d probably turn them over in your head a lot longer, but he really, really does.

“Think you can show us lads up, eh missy?”

Smothering a smile, you stare Sirius down with false bluntness.

“Yep. You’re lucky I even came at all, honestly.”

Sirius laughs, spinning his glass, half empty and through sweating. You realize his drink is the only one on the table.

“I’m surprised you did. You’re so popular, but you stay humble for us.”

“I have to,” you agree, “I could’ve been with people a lot cooler than you guys, but I just felt so bad. You and Remus don’t have anyone else to hang out with now that James is married.”

“Moony, we’re being bullied,” says Sirius, raising his voice a touch to reach the boy in question. Remus places two new drinks on the maple tabletop, sliding in close to you.

“I’m sure we deserve it,” he says, passing one of the fresh glasses off to you. “We’re turning into losers.”

You bring the cool glass to your lips, relaxing further into the familiar booth cushion and eyeing Remus’ new drink.

“Is that your second?”

Remus shakes his head. “My first.”

He tracks your brows as they pull together. They’d been here almost a half hour already.

“I waited for you,” he explains, smiling gently. Your stomach leaps.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Sirius jumps in, stepping on Remus’ toes.

“That’s what I told him,” he says, “I said you’re too sweet to mind.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus says, following up Sirius’ heel. His voice is still wearing the crooning silk he tends to direct towards you. “It’s the polite thing to do. Sirius just has poor manners.”

Across the way, the man in question sputters objections while you try not to laugh.

“I—I’m impolite? I’m impolite! Please. She’s the only one at this table who was late to a hangout one block away from her apartment. I had every right to drink my sorrows away.”

Remus ducks his head and shoots you a cat-like grin, but Sirius isn’t done.

“And it’s not being polite if you’re motivated by a massive crush, Moony, by the way. D’you know he’s wearing cologne?”

You stare at Sirius, because the alternative of looking at Remus (who is flushed beyond measure) is akin to a death sentence.

“Yes,” you admit. You’d smelled it on him when he stood up earlier, a fresh earthy scent that was too sharp to be soap. Sirius points at your face like he’s caught you.

“See? The only people who notice a guy wearing cologne are his miserable best mates, and girls who want to be waited on.” Remus shoots him a glare and he throws his hands up as if to say, sue me. “I’m just helping.”

Remus curses through an exhale and drops his head into his hands.

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration! 🩷

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 6 months

Note

hello, Dillo! Could I possibly get some headcannons or scenario (whatever you feel like writing) of a very bubbly, sweet, and awkward s/o that just- refuses to acknowledge they like Dally because they believe he'd never in a million years like them back? Like I'm imagining one day they're chilling with Pony and Johnny and they're not being as funny or playful like usual and the boys ask why and they just whisper "I wish I was Dally's type". So could I possibly just have something with Dally's reaction to it all?

if it's too specific or if you just don't feel like it, don't worry! <3

Not Into You

A/N: Hey, hey! This has been a long time coming, and I think it turned out sort of wonky and weird, but I'm kinda happy with it so I hope you are too! Please enjoy!

“They said what?”

Johnny just shrugs and looks over at Ponyboy, shoving a few more fries in his mouth. The plate in front of him is almost empty already, the small pile of ketchup he’d squirted out almost gone too. Ponyboy shrugs too and takes another sip of his coke. They’re both acting way too calm for what they’ve told Dallas.

“I’m serious,” Dally repeats. “They said that? You’re not kiddin’?”

“Why would we lie about that?” Pony runs his finger around the rim of his glass, pushing the straw around as he goes. “Y/N told us they thought you could never like ‘em back because the two of you are so different.”

Dally chews thoughtfully on his own straw and leans a little farther into the corner of the diner booth. Johnny and Ponyboy look unfazed on the other side of the table, the latter doing his best to steal fries off Johnny’s plate without being caught. It doesn’t work and Johnny sends him a small glare. Ponyboy backs off and takes another drink of his soda.

“You’re bein’ serious, right?” Dallas asks again. “Cause if you’re not, I swear, I’ll kill the both of yous.”

Ponyboy rolls his eyes and Dally has half a mind to reach across the table and smack him upside the head. “We told ya we weren’t, alright? They told us yesterday when we were hangin’ out.”

Sighing, Dally stays in his seat and thinks over what to do next. Stark blue eyes trace the lines of the table and the logo on the side of his drink as he weighs his options and works on making up his mind. When he finally does, he stands up with a smug smirk.

“Where are you headin’, Dal?” Johnny asks. He swats at Ponyboy’s hand without looking away from Dallas when Pony’s fingers stray too close to his fries.

“To find Y/N,” he says simply. “I gotta tell ‘em they were wrong.”

He finds them in the lot, kicking around a can that has definitely seen better days. They look smaller than usual. Shoulders drawn in, head down as they mutter softly to themselves. Dally starts to jog a little to cross the street and that’s when they look up. Their eyes find his and they seem to shrink a little more.

“H-hey, Dallas,” they stutter. One corner of their mouth quirks up in a smile that’s all too forced. “What have you been-,”

They’re cut off as the New Yorker reaches out for them, one hand landing on their hip, the other cupping the side of their face as he brings them close together, his lips landing on theirs. Y/N makes a surprised noise into the kiss but doesn’t pull away, so Dally counts that as a win and doesn’t let go. He’s pleasantly surprised himself when he feels their hands rise to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair and keeping him in place.

When they finally break up, they’re both smiling and breathing heavily.

Y/N looks a little lost, eyes wide and confused as they stare at Dallas, so he figures he ought to try and fix that. He leans in again and they meet him halfway and then they’re kissing again in the wide-open lot.

“You gonna explain somethin’ to me now?” Dally asks after pulling back. His thumb smooths over their cheek and Y/N leans into the touch faster than Dally thought they would. “Why in the world did you think I wasn’t gonna like you? And why did you tell Johnny and Ponyboy instead of talkin’ to me?”

Blushing, Y/N looks down at the ground but Dally gently nudges their face back up with a finger under their chin. He raises an eyebrow expectantly and the action gets a small laugh out of them.

“I just thought,” they started quietly, “that you wouldn't like me. We’re so different, y’know? I’m not really the kind of person you usually go out with. I figured you wouldn’t be into me.”

Dally rolls his eyes and pulls them into a hug, tucking their head into his shoulder. He rocks gently and squeezes them tight before dropping a kiss on their hair.

“You ever think about how none of the people I go out with ever stick around? You ever think that maybe since we’re so different we’d do well together?”

“I guess not.”

“We’ll maybe you should’ve, ya idiot,” Dallas chides without any anger or annoyance in his tone. “Maybe then I could’ve taken you out earlier.”

Y/N looks up at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “You wanna take me out? You’re serious?”

“You don’t wanna go out?”

“No! No, I do, it’s just that- you’re serious, you’re not jokin’?”

Rolling his eyes again, Dally leans in to kiss them again, pausing to talk before he connects his lips with theirs. “I’m gonna take you out. Promise. But right now, I’m just gonna kiss you.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

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mclarengf · 3 months

Text

thinking about... meeting carlos sainz in the club

note: this is like two steps away from smut i can’t even lie; i love it tho. i would happily make out w carlos for hours and hours x

update: read part two here!!

---

the guy in the corner of the club is hot.

he’s leaning against the wall, next to a booth of his friends, probably. he has a drink in his hand, something simple. a beer? doesn’t matter.

he’s really hot.

and he carries himself with a really attractive kind of confidence, like he has a big dick and he knows it.

he’s been watching you too, all night. you’ve noticed it. when you were ordering at the bar, when your friends were dancing with you, and even now, when you’re simply sitting in a booth, chatting about who-knows-what. so, as well as being super hot, this guy also has a staring problem. you’re not complaining though; you’re definitely enjoying his attention.

you pick up your half-empty cocktail and say to your girls, “i’ll be right back.”

he’s still watching, even as he tips his drink toward his mouth. his eyes are locked onto you over the rim of the glass.

you take your time getting to him, stopping at the bar for a refill first, and then checking your appearance in the mirror behind the bartender. you don’t have to look back; you know his gaze is on you the whole time.

you finally walk up to him. he whistles lowly at you.

“guapísima.”

he holds out his hand, and, when you take it, twirls you around. you laugh, excited by the rush of adrenaline you get.

“i saw you staring,” you tell him.

“i can’t help it,” his accent is so sexy, oh my god, “i see you, you’re dancing, you’re flirting; you’re teasing me, hermosa, how can i not stare?”

his hands come down to your waist. you set your drink down and place your hands on top of his.

“you want to dance with me?”

you don’t bother replying. instead, you start walking backwards, trusting him to guide you safely to the dancefloor.

when you’re comfortably in the thick of the crowd, he handles you so you’re pressed to his front, practically grinding up on him.

“ay, mami,” one arm moves across your torso, his hand ending up splayed against your sternum possessively.

you’re not really dancing, rather just moving to the beat, more or less. you can’t say dancing’s the first thing on your mind right now, though, because you can feel him, and you want more. you turn back around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. his hands fly to your waist. his eyes dart down to your lips, and he licks his.

as you move, you feel his hands drifting lower, to settle on your arse. he pulls you flush against him, somehow without missing a beat.

“me encantas.”

you’re playing with a lock of his hair, twirling it around your finger. his eyes are so hungry, and dark, and you think you could drown in them if he keeps looking at you like that.

he finally leans down and kisses you, languid and slow. you reciprocate eagerly, already antsy from the build-up you both had created.

he pulls you even closer, and grabs your leg, hitching it up against his hip. then, he pulls on your hair, forcing your mouth open for him, so he can slip his tongue back in.

you’re whining into the kiss, wanting more of him. your hips buck into his, his hand grips onto your shirt as he stumbles back for support, and he caresses your chin, then pulls your face toward him for your lips to meet again.

suddenly, you’re pulled apart. you blink at the man who’s done so, assuming he’s one of your partner’s friends by the way he gets shoved aside with an, “ay, cabrón! fuck off.”

turning back to you, the stranger smiles, and leans in to ask, “do you want to have some proper fun?”

---

extra note: perhaps a part two w smut??? 👀 let me know cuties x

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suzayaaa · 3 months

Text

ೃ⁀➷ BUCKET LIST ☆.｡.:*

𓆩⟡𓆪 pairing: friend!jisung x fem!reader

𓆩⟡𓆪 word count: 1.3k

𓆩⟡𓆪 themes: suggestive? just homies kissing

𓆩⟡𓆪 warnings: none?

“No, maybe not this one… Oh!” You gasp as you read point twenty-four on the piece of paper in your hands, your slightly messy handwriting shining through. “Go to an arcade dressed as one of the Powerpuff Girls.”

You look at Jisung with an enthusiastic grin, lightly bouncing on the cotton couch of your friend’s living room. Your eyes meet his, dead silent, his elbow pushing into one of the dark grey pillows he is propped on.

“Does this bucket list include anything… not embarrassing to do in public?”

Your eyebrows raise at Jisung’s sceptical voice. For a split second, you wonder what’s embarrassing about looking good and having fun, but your mind quickly dismisses the dilemma and you try to remember having any mild ideas during the creation of the bucket list. The lightbulb next to your head doesn’t turn on though. Instead, you realize the said list is the result of the girls’ night you had with your friends last month with too much alcohol involved in the process.

“You have some high expectations…” You mumble more to yourself than him, reading through each sentence carefully, but soon enough give up when you see a little distorted ‘swim with the sharks’ under point five.

You side-eye Jisung. Embarrassing? No, but definitely dangerous and definitely not something he would be down for.

“You know, we can just grab some popcorn and watch One Piece.” Resigned, you put the list right next to Jisung’s half-empty energy drink bottle on the glass coffee table to scratch a specific spot on the back of your head, although nothing’s itchy.

Jisung stares at the bucket list for a moment, bringing his hand to play with his earlobe as he gets lost in his thoughts. After almost two years of knowing him, you already know it’s his unconscious sign that he’s considering the options, so you give him the space and look around his living room to occupy his restless self.

Even though his place is small (as expected with the ridiculously high prices of apartments in Seoul, despite the location being outside the city center), the living room has always felt spacious to you. You assume it’s the work of his friend Renjun, as they live together. You’d noticed his artistic soul and the ‘I’ll do it’ nature right away when you first met him. The green plants in the corner and the delicate decorations reflect Renjun’s personality much more than Jisung’s—the latter is all about unevenly taped posters on the walls and a mix of clothes, shoes, and items scattered all over his room’s floor.

“Give me that list,” Jisung suddenly says, stretching his limb out to take the paper from the coffee table. You flinch forward, your first instinct to stop him. You are comfortable with him, but some of the points are… private, to say the least. He raises a brow at you, the bucket list almost in his hand, waiting for your further reaction. Yes, the list is a bit much, but you shouldn’t be ashamed of your dreams, you think to yourself. You wave your hand at him dismissively and rest your head back on the couch.

Jisung takes the list and repositions himself on the couch. It takes a while, as his legs look uncomfortably long to be squished into a cross-legged position, but you don’t say anything, just watch him read the list after finally getting cozy. His reaction changes from a questioning frown to an agonizing sigh to a blank blink at least five times, and the silence has the blood rushing to your cheeks. You take a minute (long? Short? You don’t know, but definitely painful) to regret bringing the list to him and distract yourself again. The window curtains have never looked better.

Jisung points at the paper, looking at your blushed face, amused. “Kiss all of my friends and rate the experiences from best to worst.”

Yeah, the curtains are so interesting today.

“I don’t remember writing this,” you justify yourself, tapping your knee with your fingers. It is true—after all, it was the alcohol in you making the list. Then again, ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’, they say.

Jisung watches your embarrassed self as a smirk slowly grows on his lips. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “You’re a freak.”

Something about the way he says it boosts your confidence and you forget how hot your face feels. Your courage to make eye contact is back, and mirroring his smirk, you catch a new glint in his eyes you have never seen before. You eye him up and down and realize how good he looks in a plain t-shirt and baggy pants. Maybe it’s the simplicity, or the clothes’ shape just flatters his body. Either way, his looks do him justice without much effort. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you also suits him, by the way.

“Let’s do it.”

“Do what?” You tease, although you don’t have to ask to know what he means.

“Kiss,” he gets up from the couch to stand in front of you, resting his hands on the back of the couch as he hovers over your body. “Let’s kiss.”

Jisung’s stare is so intense it sends shivers down your spine, sending you deeper into the couch. He even looks intimidating like that, when he is only centimeters away from your face. His new confidence excites you, your heart pumping the blood into your veins faster. It probably beats louder too, but you don’t hear it. All of your attention is on Jisung and his hot breath brushing against your skin.

You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers immediately feeling the cold metal on his nape. You look at the silver chain hanging on his neck before bringing your eyes almost back to his, stopping a little lower—at his lips.

You’ve always been a risk-taker. Nothing can ever go wrong in your mind and the aftermath is never your worry. When you saw a ‘Caution! Wet floor’ sign in a shopping mall as a kid, you would purposefully speed up your walk, laughing to the bits if you fell. Skipping class in high school wasn’t scary despite the consequences you had to face, at least you had fun. Moving out of your parents’ house a little too early—it was tough, but you handled it. Kissing your friend?

“Let’s see which place you’ll get,” is what you whisper before smashing your lips into his.

It’s messy at first, the flames in you not knowing if you want to ease each other’s fire or add even more fuel to it. It’s unexpected, the way your lips fit with his just right, but you love it. Your fingers tighten on Jisung’s nape, the other hand moving into his hair as you pull him closer, prompting him into your body. His hand moves to your neck, thumb lifting your chin to deepen the kiss.

He tastes like the cherry chapstick you bought for him after you noticed his once-dry lips that are now tasting your sweet lipgloss. Like a siren call, it’s something you cannot resist no matter how hard you try. Not that you want to, anyway. The adrenaline only grows in you with each touch, making you bolder, leaving you wanting more. But Jisung knows better than to turn into a starving animal. He pulls away, keeping your face at a small enough distance for you to not hunt your prey down.

“So,” he breathes out, thumb brushing over your lip, “what’s the ranking?”

You take a moment to admire the pink blush and satisfied smile on his face, wrapping your finger around his necklace to bring him closer again, foreheads clashing lightly.

“Not sure yet…” You smile, your leg pushing his hip to flip him around, seat him on the couch, and straddle him, “might have to check again.”

“Yeah, let’s make sure,” he loops his arms around your waist, pulling you into a kiss once more.

The best.

That’s the ranking.

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hecateslore · 3 months

Text

💌

supervisor!simon

“Yeah that would be great!”

You hand him the keys, and with so much ease, the door opens. “There you are.” He steps out of the way for you to walk through. “Thanks.” you say quietly. Your house was dim, the only light was the small pink lamp your mom bought you as a housewarming gift.

“You can make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna change really quick.” You say and scurry to your bedroom. Ridding of the dress you wore. You couldn’t help but to frown at the beautiful fabric, what a waste it went.

Simon looked around the living room, he noticed the small little rose bottle left on the coffee table, small knick knacks sitting on top of the stack of magazines. We moved over to the wall with paintings and pictures. Some look like a toddler drew them.

Your house was so, you. It was kind of small. But it suits you. Simon smiled and the pictures of what he presumed to be you and family. He could hear you humming from down the hall. He looked around the room once more. Plants. Some on the dining table, some on the floor, he can even see the ones outside on your balcony.

He chose to sit on your couch. It was comfy, not better than his, but it was good. It smelled like you. Clean, like orchids and sweet.

“You look like a creep sitting in the dark.” you chuckle from the middle of the hallway. Simon smiles, not that you could see it, but he did.

“Couldn’t find the light switch.” He says, rubbing his hands over his thighs. The sight of you in your lounge wear. A t-shirt and some pajama pants. What was left of your makeup was gone. “Nice pajamas.” He laughs at the pink pants with clouds on them. “My mom bought me these, they were half off.” You note. “Stylish.” He assures you and you roll your eyes at him. Walking around the room, turning on the lights around your living area. “Want a drink?” you ask, walking towards your kitchen. “Uh sure.”

Simon liked this, how calm and in your element you were. He got up from his seat on the sofa and moved to the dinner table. “I only have canned beer.” you say holding up the very vibrant red cans. “That’ll do.”

“I drank my last little wine bottle,” you frown, placing the beers on the tile coasters. “I noticed the paintings and photos.” he smiles, “The drawings are my nieces,” you grin to yourself, “Do you want a glass?”

“Please.” Simon looks over at the paintings again. Nieces. He nods, “All of those?” he looks at you, “They’re good huh? She’s only three but they look better than any other three year olds.” You shrug, placing the glass before him. “That was my dads, don’t break it. It’s my favorite”

Simon’s eyes widened, “He’s not dead,” you laugh, “the glass has a lot of sentimental value.” You finally take a seat and crack open your can. “No glass?” he says while pouring the beer in. “I like to live on the edge.” you take a sip, “You’re a cool girl.” Simon winks, and you groan in response.

“I’ll die of alcohol poisoning right now.” You joke. Simon only laughs at you. “It’s been such a weird day.” You put your head down on the table. You lift it again and look at Simon, who was sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed, “On valentines day, I really had fun talking to you.” you admit, resting your chin in your palm. “And I’m having fun now.” You say taking a swig.

He hums and you quiet down, His glass was barely empty. He took light sips, letting you blabber on and on. “This was a waste of time wasn’t it?” you chuckle sadly, “Sorry I asked this, I mean you’re clearly uncomfortable.” You get up and start cleaning up, throwing your can and you reach for his glass.

“No it’s not that, I’m just not that much of a drinker.” he smiles apologetically, “This is fun, talking is fun.” he clarifies. “Oh.” you say dumping the beer down your drain, “Well I should’ve asked instead of forcing it down your throat.” You joke, trying to close the pit in your stomach.He pulls his phone out from his pocket and checks the time, “Maybe I should get going.” he sighs, “Yeah, it’s getting late.” You nod. “We could do this some other time, yes?”

“Uh sure.” You try to hide the awkwardness behind a grin. “I’ll see you monday?” He asks while getting up, “Yeah, yeah.” You say. You walk him to the door, your feet feeling heavy with shame, guilt, embarrassment, your buzz wearing off. “I’ll see you?” he says one more time, his large frame in the door frame. “You sure will!” he Smiles, and that dimple appears. “Bye.” he says tapping the door frame. “Bye, Simon.” You smile and wave.

You shut the door, Smile immediately fading. You overstepped, you overshared, and you brought him in! As if the date wasn’t enough, You made Simon feel uncomfortable.

You walk into your room, get into bed and stare at the ceiling. God, he looked so good tonight. He looked so good today. He always looks good. You wanted to text him, calling him tonight was bad. It was a reckless bad Idea, now work’s going to be awkward. All because you had a little too much to drink.

You pull the cover over your head and shut your eyes hoping to fall asleep, quickly.

Monday you come in early, like always. Johnny wasn’t at work yet, but Simon was. He was on his computer, his shoulder brace was on again. You wanted to walk up to his office, maybe say hey or ask if he wanted to grab breakfast, but Saturday's shenanigans stopped you before you could.

You hated how much he was making you stare. His brows were furrowed and he was so focused. The way he held his hand over his mouth while he clicked away. It was so pathetic how much you were staring, practically drooling after him. You were snapped out of your thoughts by Linda, who had a plastic bag full of sweet candy. “ I bought way too much over the weekend, My grandson's birthday party, and you know how much candy you have to buy for little kids.”

You said your Mhm’s watching Simon walk around his office, getting paper from his printer, and checking his bag. “And that’s when I was like I need to give some of this away.” Linda laughed, and you did too, it was fake of course and probably way over the top. When you looked at Linda she had a concerned look on her face, “do you want the candy or?”

“Yeah just leave it on my desk I’ll be right back.” You say quickly.

You enter his room tapping lightly on the wall next to you, he looks up from his computer screen. “Hello there.” He smiles softly, and you almost melt, “Hi.” you say back, “need something?” he asks, moving paperwork around. “Uh no, I just wanted to say hey, or hi, or whatever.” you stumble, “Hey or Hi, to you too. ” he chuckles and You grin at his casualness, “How was your Sunday?” You question, “Busy,” he lets out a breath, “It was pretty busy.” He finishes. “How was yours?” “Mine was good,” You clear your throat.

It wasn’t good, You were hungover all day. The red ,The yeast and the greasy diner food came up the second you woke up. Also you went to sleep sexually frustrated. Everytime you closed your eyes, you felt the light tap on your knee from Simon. Maybe this was your limbo.

“I felt a little crappy but, It was good.” You answer finally, “That’s good to hear.” he chuckles, “Uh oh.” He says a bit louder, you turn your head and see Johnny pass his door. You hear him cackle to himself, “You’re so annoying.” you playfully roll your eyes.

Which wasn’t true. You liked it all too much.

taglist: @darkravenqueen98 @shunoodles @lovely-giggles @imjustmes @definitelynotaclown @oreo-cream @whos-fran @Ilovehyperfixating @w00lgathering @idkbbyx3 @pieckyghost @mareiasereia

#supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mw3

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Note

Hey Nikki, congrats on your milestone!! Hopefully I’m not too late to your party 😭…. This isn’t really y2k, but what about Love Never Felt So Good by Michael Jackson ft Justin Timberlake???

If I may suggest… Nanami getting tipsy so it makes him feel too relaxed and confident that he just turns the volume up and dances with reader!?!?

I’ll let your creative mind finish this off.

Tysm, take care, and again congrats, your work deserves all the love!!!

Love Never Felt So Good

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~1.0k

cw: fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption

Summary: You pick up your very drunk husband from the bar. Halfway home, he asks you for a silly request.

Author’s Note: This is such a cute request, thank you @mira-miraaa! I love this song for the y2k karaoke party. Enjoy! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Nanami is out for drinks tonight with his colleagues after successfully completing a mission. It’s been a difficult week for them as you recall your husband’s nightly recaps to you on the phone. You wouldn’t blame any of them one bite if they let loose more than usual tonight. You stay up until half past midnight, hoping to catch him before you sleep. When you don’t hear any updates from him, you finally head to bed, certain you’ll see him in the morning, hungover and hopefully less stressed.

At 1:48 AM, your phone rings, Gojo’s name illuminating your screen. Concerned, you pick it up, whispering a croaky, “Hello?”

Gojo cheerfully says your name. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You yawn, rubbing the sleep away from your bleary eyes. “No, I’m fine. Is everything okay?”

He chuckles. “Well, yes, everything is okay. It’s just that your dear husband here will not budge unless you come here to pick him up.”

Fully awake now, you ask, “What?”

“He won’t get into my car. He’s not leaving unless his quote gorgeous, wonderful wife comes and rescues him. He hasn’t moved for twenty minutes now and I don’t think there’s any other way to convince him,” he explains.

You smile to yourself, shrugging the blanket off to quickly change with the phone pinched between your ear and shoulder. “Don’t worry. Give me fifteen. I’ll be there.”

Thankfully, the streets are nearly empty, so you arrive promptly to the bar, where you spot Gojo, Ijichi, and Ieiri standing at the curb, carrying your slumped over husband on their shoulders. You park in front of them, smiles of relief on their faces as you exit the car. “Thank you for taking care of him. I’m sorry you had to deal with this.”

Gojo waves it off with his free hand, a big grin on his face. “We’re sorry you had to come all the way here just to pick him up. He can be so stubborn sometimes.”

Giggling, you step towards Nanami. “This is what I signed up for when I married him, right?” You tip his chin up to meet his face. His glasses are skewed, eyes half-lidded with intoxication. It takes a second for him to finally realize it’s you, and when he does, his expression brightens instantly. “Honey?” he utters, throat raspy from the liquor.

You nod. “Hi sweetie. I’ve come here to rescue you.”

He smiles, removing himself from his friends to wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “You’re here. You’re actually here.” From your peripheral, you catch Ieiri and Ijichi grinning at each other.

Gojo laughs. “Alright, he’s in great hands now. Let’s all finally go home!”

You say your farewells to them with Nanami still latched to you, breathing you in deeply. The smell of whiskey is potent from his mouth and clothes as you do your best to lead him into the passenger seat, his long limbs difficult to maneuver while he makes absolutely no effort to do it himself. With his seatbelt securely buckled, you rush to the other side to get behind the wheel. Before you drive, you crack open a new water bottle and shove it towards him. “Here, drink some water.”

He removes his glasses, tucking them neatly into his breast pocket, staring at the bottle, confused. “That’s not whiskey.”

“I know it’s not; it’s water!” you laugh, urging him. “Now drink.”

He gives you a sloppy salute. “Yes ma’am.” He throws it back into his mouth, chugging a third of the bottle, some of it spilling from the sides of his lips, hiccupping once when he’s done. Satisfied, you start the car, music playing, ready to head home. Nanami nods his head along to the songs, holding your hand in his, fingers entwined. You adore how lovey-dovey he gets when he’s had too much to drink. It doesn’t matter that you had to sacrifice sleep to do this; you’d do it again and again if he’d ask you to, no question.

Halfway through, the intro to one of his favorite songs starts. He gasps softly, turning the volume up, beaming. When the verse begins, he sings along. “Baby, love never felt so good…” He sways his shoulders, his entire torso jiving with the melody now, waving your hand with his to the beat. You bite your lip, suppressing your laughter with one hand on the wheel. He faces you, shaking your arm. “Let’s dance, honey.”

“I’m driving!”

“Pull over then! We’ll dance on the sidewalk. Hurry, the chorus is coming!” he whines, persistent.

Too amused to resist, you check your surroundings, pulling over to the side of the street. He turns the dial even louder, car reverberating with the bass, clicking his seatbelt off and exiting the vehicle. You do the same, rushing over to him with his arms reaching for you, belting out the lyrics. “Baby! Every time I love you, in and out my life, in out baby!” He dances with you under the streetlight, gazing into your eyes with the biggest smile on his face, swinging your arms with his. At the end of the chorus, he twirls you gracefully, serenading, “So baby, love never felt so good…” scattering sweet kisses on your cheek.

You continue this the entire song, giggling uncontrollably as you practice all your cheesy dance moves on each other, including him shimmying his chest towards you and rolling his hips seductively. Near the end, the only other car to drive down the street honks at the two of you, flashing you a thumbs up from the window.

The next song that plays is a slow one, so you turn on your heel to get back into driver’s seat, thinking he’s ready to go home. Nanami tugs you back, pulling you in for a snug embrace, squeezing you lovingly. “Not yet. Just one more song.” His grip is tight on you, reluctant to let go.

You nestle into his chest, smiling as he sways you to the smooth cadence of the music, cradled in his arms. “Alright. One more song.”

#nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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baldursgrave69 · 4 months

Text

A Pretty Sight - Mature

*this is my first time writing smut, I hope y’all enjoy 🫣*

Rating: NSFW - MATURE, MDNI

Pairing: Halsin x Astarion x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 2.5K

Tags: MDNI, afab!durge, threesome, unprotected sex, piv, blood drinking, vaginal fingering, feelings, oral sex

While writing this I was listening to: Take a Slice by Glass Animals

Find me on Ao3 here

“Halsin you really don’t have to come with. Gale and Astarion are joining me, I’ll be alright,” Agnes said, perched in Halsin’s lap at a table in the Elfsong Tavern. Gale, Astarion, and Agnes were planning their trip to the House of Hope, joined by Halsin who was never far from Agnes’ side. Halsin wrapped his arms around the half elf, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, little thief. But I can’t just sit here while you’re in the Hells, I’d worry too much,” Halsin said as he pulled her closer. “Let him come, we can use him as a shield,” Astarion said from beside Agnes with a smirk. Agnes rolled her eyes, leaning back into Halsin’s embrace. “Ugh, fine,” she grumbled, closing her eyes. “You’re just loved, my heart. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you while I was sitting here,” Halsin trailed off, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Alright, alright,” Agnes said, turning to look at the druid. She cupped his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his nose. A smile crossed Halsin’s face as Agnes pressed her forehead to his. He nuzzled his nose to Agnes’ before pressing his lips to hers. Agnes wrapped her arms around the Druid’s neck, leaning into his kiss. “Ahem, as much as I’d love to watch you two go at it, we really should focus on coming up with a plan for tomorrow,” Astarion said with a devilish grin. Gale cleared his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly. Agnes pulled away from Halsin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before turning back towards the table.

“As we were saying earlier, it’s going to be rather pricey to get Helsik to help us get to the Hells,” Gale said, his finger drumming on his chin. “I don’t relish the idea of emptying our pockets to get to this ‘House of Hope’,” Astarion added. “I’m not worried about it,” Agnes said, lifting her mug of ale to her lips to take a sip. “Oh, did you remember you have a stack of gold somewhere? We can’t exactly afford to just give her everything we have,” Gale snipped at the rogue. Agnes narrowed her gaze at the wizard, setting down her mug. “I don’t plan on paying her anything. I was able to convince her to let me in once before, I don’t see why it would be a problem this time,” Agnes said, a hand stroking Halsin’s hair. Gale scoffed at Agnes, waving a hand at her dismissively. With a quick motion, Agnes threw her dagger at Gale, it landed just above his head, taking a bit of hair with it. “What in the hells!?” Gale yelled, ducking down as not to hit his head on the dagger lodged in the wall. “I find that I can be very persuasive. Perhaps you should trust me on this one,” Agnes said nonchalantly, hugging Halsin tightly. “Gods, you’re amazing,” Astarion said in a low tone, Halsin humming in agreement. “Oh for the love of… I’m heading to bed,” Gale grumbled, beginning to scoot out of the booth. “My knife, if you would,” Agnes said, holding out her hand towards Gale. “Get it yourself,” he snapped, standing quickly and heading up to their rented rooms.

“He’s so sensitive,” Astarion laughed, reaching over and pulling Agnes’ dagger out of the wall. She held out her hand for Astarion to give it to her, but he grabbed it with his free hand and peppered soft kisses to her wrist. “Are you hungry, my love?” Agnes asked, as Astarion looked up at her, his fangs grazing her veins. “Mm, I wouldn’t say no to a taste,” he hummed, releasing her hand and giving her the dagger. “How could you, she’s positively decadent,” Halsin said, his face nuzzled in the crook of Agnes’ neck, kissing along her tattoo. Agnes felt a shiver down her spine as she felt Astarion’s fingers ghost across her thighs. “Just what are the two of you up to?” She asked, looking over to see Astarion laying a heavy gaze on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He allowed his hand to trail along her inner thigh, his eyes blown wide with lust. “Perhaps we should head upstairs, hmm?” Astarion purred, squeezing Agnes’ leg before removing his hand. “What do you say, little thief? Would you like to have some fun?” Halsin whispered, Agnes could feel the growing erection in his trousers pressing against her leg. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea,” Agnes said, her voice coming out more breathy than intended. Halsin needed no further encouragement, he swiftly picked the half elf up, putting her over his shoulder. “Halsin!” Agnes squeaked, dizzy from the ale she had been drinking. “Save your voice darling, you’ll be screaming our names soon enough,” Astarion purred, patting Agnes’ backside as Halsin carried her up the stairs to a private room.

Halsin entered the room followed by Astarion, who swiftly closed and locked the door. The druid gently placed Agnes on the bed at the back of the room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling away. Agnes propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Astarion approached the foot of the bed. “What a pretty sight,” Astarion said, crossing his arms. “Isn’t she?” Halsin agreed, licking his lips, one hand trailing down to cup his erection. “I could say the same,” Agnes said with a smirk, feeling her arousal grow as she eyed the two elves in front of her. Seeing Halsin’s sheer size next to Astarion made her clench her thighs together, growing even more wet. Astarion made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his tunic over his head. Agnes’ eyes trailed along the vampire’s body, her mouth hanging slightly open as she took in every inch of his beautifully smooth, pale skin. Agnes could see Halsin have a similar reaction as he eyed the other elf, the vampire looked ethereal in the candlelight. Astarion climbed up onto the bed, using a hand to spread Agnes’ legs apart and pulling himself up along her body. “I cannot wait to taste you, my love,” he whispered, his head dipping to her neck. Astarion pressed kisses to her bite scars, a hand pressing her harder onto the bed. Agnes moaned as Astarion sucked at the skin around her scars, his tongue occasionally lapping at her neck. “Astarion,” Agnes moaned breathlessly as he slipped a hand under her shirt, cupping her breast. He groaned, realizing she wasn’t wearing a bra. Astarion pulled her shirt up over her head, thumbing at her nipple causing her to whine. “What is it, little love?” Astarion said grazing his fangs across her neck and pressing his erection against her clothed clit sending a wave of pleasure through her body. “Please, just…” Agnes couldn’t get her words out, her head clouded with lust and the faintest hint of drunkenness. “What do you think, Halsin?” Astarion said, pulling away from Agnes to look at the druid. He was watching the two on the bed, palming his cock through his pants. “I think she needs to tell you what she wants,” Halsin said, walking around the side of the bed for a better view. Agnes rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of Astarion’s curls and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion groaned as he felt her leg come up to press against the erection straining against his pants.

Astarion pulled back, a smirk crossing his face. “So impatient,” he tutted, pushing himself back off of the bed. Agnes narrowed her gaze at him, letting her head fall back in frustration. “What do you want, my heart? Tell us,” Halsin said, cupping Agnes’ jaw and turning her to face him. Her eyes widened as she noticed Halsin had removed his trousers, his other hand wrapped around his impressive length. “Gods, Halsin,” Agnes groaned, his thumb trailing along her bottom lip. She pulled his large thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking. Halsin and Astarion both let out a groan as they watched her, Astarion now quickly removing his own pants. Agnes pulled her mouth off of Halsin’s finger with a pop, spit running down her chin. Halsin wiped it off for her before pulling her into a kiss. Agnes was so lost in the druid she almost didn’t notice the tug on her bottoms. “Up,” Astarion ordered, patting her leg. Agnes lifted her hips as Halsin’s tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Their tongues danced as Astarion pulled down Agnes’ trousers and small clothes, gently lifting her legs as he removed the clothing. Astarion’s cold fingers ghosted up her legs onto her thighs, kneading into the soft flesh. “I can see how wet you are already, pet,” Astarion purred, pushing her knees to spread her legs for him. Agnes pulled away from Halsin to look at Astarion lying between her legs, his hands trailing her thighs. He shot her a devilish grin before dipping his head to press soft kisses between her thighs. Agnes threw her head back onto the pillow behind her, wiggling under Astarion as he gently trailed his lips closer to her core. “Look at me, my heart,” Halsin purred, pulling her face towards him. She looked over to him, a whine escaping her lips as Astarion licked a stripe up her thigh. Agnes watched Halsin pump his cock as, a groan escaping his lips. “Use your words, love. What do you need,” Halsin said breathily, looking down at Agnes. “I need to taste you,” Agnes whimpered, bringing her hand up to Halsin’s length and swiping her thumb across the tip. Halsin groaned as he kneeled on the bed, bringing his cock closer to Agnes.

“Yes, my love, I want to see you take all of him,” Astarion said as he trailed his fangs along Agnes’ thigh. Just as Agnes was pulling Halsin’s cock into her mouth, Astarion plunged his fangs into her thigh, a loud sigh escaping him as he felt her blood flood into his mouth. Agnes moaned around Halsin’s length, her tongue swirling around his head. Halsin threw his head back, a hand coming up to grab her braid. Astarion dragged his fingers through Agnes’ folds as he continued to feed, groaning at how wet she was. He pulled his mouth away from Agnes’ thigh, the rush he got from her blood leaving him a bit light headed. He lapped at the new wound, licking up beads of blood as they dripped out. Halsin used Agnes’ braid to bob her head up and down his cock as Astarion teased her entrance with his icy fingers. She moaned loudly as Astarion pushed two fingers inside her, curling them upward. “Gods you sound so beautiful,” Astarion groaned, kissing the inside of her thigh as he pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt. Halsin pulled back on her braid, her mouth coming off of his cock with a pop. “Does that feel good, little thief?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her. “Yes,” she breathed as Halsin captured her lips with his. Astarion leaned forward, dragging his tongue along her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. He began drawing lazy circles with his tongue, slowly pulling his fingers out of her.

Agnes moaned into Halsin’s mouth, her back arching up off of the bed as she ground her cunt against Astarion’s face. Halsin pulled back from her to watch Astarion lavish her pussy, his hand pumping his cock once more. “Astarion you look positively divine devouring her like that,” he breathed, spitting in his hand to lubricate his length. “Oh, Astarion,” Agnes whined, her hands tangling in his hair. She could feel her climax building as Astarion lapped at her with reckless abandon. Agnes pulled on his hair, bringing his face up to hers. His eyes were wild, blown wide with lust as he breathed heavily. “I need you inside me. I want to come on your cock,” she growled, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer. Astarion was too far gone to make her wait any longer, dragging his cock along her folds to wet his length. He nudged his head at her entrance, groaning at the feeling of her. As he pushed himself inside, he grabbed Halsin by the hair and pulled him in to a kiss as he began pumping his cock into Agnes. “Oh, gods below,” Agnes moaned, the feeling of Astarion pumping inside her and the image of the two elves devouring one another in front of her nearly pushing her over the edge already. Agnes wrapped her fingers around Halsin’s length, stroking him to match Astarion’s pace.

Astarion pulled back from Halsin, bringing Agnes’ leg up to rest on his shoulder so he could get a better angle. He leaned forward, a hand gripping the headboard behind Agnes as he resumed a bruising pace. “Fuck you’re so… gods,” Astarion was close, Agnes could tell by the sheer nonsense spilling out of his mouth. “Come for me, Astarion,” Agnes whined, continuing to stroke Halsin’s cock with one hand, the other gripping Astarion’s curls. Agnes could feel her own climax building, the new angle punching the air from her lungs. “By the Oak Father, the two of you look so… ah,” Halsin groaned, rutting into Agnes’ hand as he watched Astarion fuck her, gripping the headboard with one hand. Agnes pulled Astarion closer by his curls. “Come for me, please,” she begged against his lips, feeling his pace grow more erratic. Astarion pressed his forehead to hers as he came with a grunt, spilling inside her. Feeling him come brought Agnes over the edge, a wave of pleasure overcoming her body. Halsin wasn’t far behind the other two, spilling into his own hand at the sight of his lovers tangled in one another.

Astarion curled up next to Agnes, his forehead pressed to hers. Halsin joined the two on the bed, embracing Agnes from behind and pressing kisses to the back of her neck. “I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow,” Agnes chuckled, nuzzling Astarion’s nose with hers. “Gale will be pissed,” Astarion added, stroking Agnes’ cheek. “Oh he’ll be fine,” she said, lacing her fingers with Halsin’s. “Would you like to take a bath, my heart?” Halsin asked against her neck, continuing to lay kisses to her soft skin. “Mm that sounds nice,” she hummed. Halsin squeezed her hand before getting up from the bed. “I’ll run it for you,” the druid said with a smile, heading towards the bathroom. Astarion pulled Agnes into his arms, burying his head in her neck. “Are you alright, Star?” Agnes asked, holding Astarion tight. “So good,” he murmured, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck. She smiled, draping a leg over his waist. Astarion pulled back to look at Agnes, his expression soft. “I love you,” he said with a smile. Agnes pulled him close to her chest, hugging him as tightly as possible. “I love you, too” she whispered.

#bg3 smut #astarion smut #smut #halsin smut #halstarion #the dark urge x halsin #halsin x durge #astarion x female oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x the dark urge #astarion x durge #astarion x oc #halsin x astarion #halsin x astarion x tav #baldurs gate smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction

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currentfications · 7 months

Text

Halloween Special | 🧛🏻‍♀️

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Pairing: Vampire!Bada Lee x Nurse!Reader

Warning: blood, suggestive content, 18+

Synopsis: Vampire!Bada is running low on blood stock on Halloween night

AN: the pathology lab lost my blood samples AGAIN, and I’m inclined to believe that they have secret dealings with vampires. That or the blood collectors have beef with me :( this was originally supposed to be a smut but it’s getting really late, sorry for the lack of proof reading >_< anyhoo thank you heaps for reading~

You were closing up the blood bank when the beam of headlights shone through the glass door. Squinting up at the parked car, you beamed as you recognised its driver. You waved a hand at the figure before quickly shuffling towards the back door, where the security camera have long since broken.

“You’re early,” you crooked a smirk at the tall girl approaching you, her cap concealing half her face. Still standing at the door frame, you held up a small cooler box. “You’re lucky I even have something for you.”

Bada flashed a cheeky grin at you, biting down on her lower lip as she does (y’all know what I’m talking about that one that smile that makes my heart goes-). “You’re lucky you had something for me,” she looked over you as she leaned on the door frame propped up by one hand, her oversized black crew shirt lifting ever so slightly from her posture. “Would be terrible if I run out-” she paused as she looked down at you through her lower lashes, “and have to resort to little innocent nurses again.”

Knowing that her threat is mostly empty, you still instinctively took a step back from the entrance as you covered your neck with one hand. “Nuh-uh,” you tutted back, “I have a Halloween party tonight. Don’t you dare ruin my costume.”

Raising an eyebrow, Bada looked at you up and down, checking out your outfit - a pink nurse costume with frilly skirt, white thigh high stockings secured by garter belts. Your matching pink wig and headband sits on the bench, waiting to be secured after the cooler-hand-off. “You’re going out in this?” Bada’s eyes darkened at the sight, “I think you have more to worry about than vampires.”

“I know it’s cheesy,” you defended, oblivious to the underlying message she was trying to suggest, “but I thought it would be fun to get out of the scrubs once in a while - show off some curves - y’know?”

She knows. In fact she knows very well, and is actively trying her hardest not to lose her self control over that strip of flesh between the hem of your skirt and the top of your stockings.

Your cheeks flushed as she continued to ogle at you in silence, completely forgetting about the reason of her visit. “Here you go,” you decided to remind her by waving the cooler in front of you. “I would love to hang around any other day but I have a bus to catch.”

“Let me in.”

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head as soon as she asked. “The last time I let you near me before you feed I ended up with a neck wound that lasted for days,” you grimaced at the memory of having to wear turtlenecks for almost a whole week during summer, “my coworkers still haven’t let me live that down when they found out about it.”

Bada sighed, reaching her hand out for the box. “Fine, give me the box. I’ll have a drink before driving you. You’re not taking public transport in that-” she trailed off as she gestured at your nurse outfit.

This is about the only time you condone drinking and driving. You held up the cooler.

Before you can register what happened, Bada pulled you forward by your wrist. Her other hand caught your stumble and hoisted you out the door onto the porch by your shoulder.

“AhhHhh! What the heck?!” You shrieked as she caught you (literally) off guard.

“That’s for not inviting me in,” her face was inches away from you, and you could feel the hot breath on your forehead. Slowly glancing up at the towering figure above you, you gulped as you realised how close you are to the beautiful - albeit dangerous - creature.

Her midnight blue hair glistened in the moonlight, streaks of blonde poking through as the breeze blows by. Something in her eyes sent chills down your spine - and butterflies in your stomach. Averting her gaze as you felt heat rising to your cheeks, you quickly looked away before she could catch on.

“W-what are you doing?” Your voice quivered, but you didn’t pull away.

“Hmm-” Bada tilted her head ever so slightly, feigning to be deep in thoughts, “-maybe I don’t want packaged food tonight after all, you look too delicious.”

The chuckle lacing her laugh sent the butterflies in your stomach further down south. You tried to recall what it was that you were going to attend, but your mind was drawing blank.

You looked back up at Bada, her gaze now filled with hunger and lust. You traced a finger over her plumped peach lips. Pressing your thumb against her top lip, you gently grazed her teeth, feeling the sharp bones against your skin. You nodded as you tipped toed to meet her slightly parted lips.

Her hand slid down from your shoulder to pull you tighter against her, deepening the kiss as she does. Her tongue easily took over as you handed over dominance, letting her have her way with you. You melted into her arms as she took her time sucking on your bottom lip, gently nipping with her teeth when it’s all red and puffy.

Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, you led the taller girl back towards the wide open door. “Welcome,” you gestured, and Bada finally took a step into your workplace.

Once entered, she wasted no time locating the nearest collection booth, propping you down on the cushion. You leaned back on the reclining seat and placed an arm on the arm rest out of habit.

Bada chuckled at the sight, “I don’t think I’m qualified to draw blood that way.”

“You’re right,” you withdrew your arm, wrapping it around her neck, “I wouldn’t trust you with a huge needle anywhere near me.”

Bada leaned towards your neck, nudging your loose hair away with her nose before hovering at the base. You giggled at the hot breath tickling your skin. “You’d trust me with this?” You can feel the vibration of her voice from how close she is to you.

You nodded, “try not to leave a massive bruise this time. You’d make a horrible histology tech.”

Bada hummed in agreement before sinking her teeth into the soft skin on your neck. You whimpered at the initial nip, gripping her hair to stop your arms from flailing around.

The pain was soon dulled by the dizziness creeping over you, your grip loosening as you feel the familiar tingle at the tip of your fingers. Bada’s jaw unclenched as you do. “Keep going,” you cooed, relishing in the lightheadedness a little longer.

“You’re spoiling me, nurse.” Bada muttered as she finished, licking circles around the bite mark. She had tried her best to keep the damage minimal, but you’d probably still have to wear a scarf for the next few days. Luckily the weather is suitable for it.

#bada lee #swf2 #bada lee x reader #fanfic #swf2 x reader #halloween

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