#this is purely indulgent fluff

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Daddy's Little Princess

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (One-Shot)

Description: You get home after a long day at the office to near silence. It warms your heart when you walk into your living room to see your husband Bradley Bradshaw playing with your eldest and making her laugh as she combs his mustache with a doll's comb.

Disclaimers: AFAB!Reader, Tooth-rotting fluff, Babies, Bronco, Bradley

Word Count: 1167

A/N: Hi, Star here! The Top Gun Brain-Rot still has me by the throat. This was inspired by this post which suggested, Play with his mustache use barbie hair brushes on it. Obviously, the minute I saw it, my brain immediately went yup, that's a Bradshaw and so this fic was born. This is un-beta'd and un-edited by anyone other than me, so forgive any glaring errors.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

It's been a long, horrendous day. You'd had to go into the office for an important meeting and dress formally for it, too. The worst part was having to leave your husband and children at home alone. Thankfully, it had been one of his few days off-duty from NAS North Island. You'd kissed your babies on their foreheads as you left early in the morning and spent far too long pressed against your husband’s chest before leaving. Traffic in San Diego was no worse than it usually was, so all in all, your morning was typical. It was during your meeting that your day rattled off the rails. Your proposal was not well received. It had been ripped to shreds by every member of the C-Suite present in the boardroom that day. You'd spent the remainder of the day with your team reviewing every inch of the proposal with a fine-toothed comb and writing and re-writing pieces for the follow-up meeting in one week.

After your day, you were flagging as you got into your Jeep that evening to drive home. The one highlight of your day had been the giggle-filled voicemail you'd received during your lunch break. Your daughter's voice had been so sweet with the baby's babbling and your husband's deep tones in the background. It was apparent your mischievous little princess had stolen your husband's phone and called you accidentally. It brought much-needed energy to you and an impetus to finish work as soon as possible.

All the streetlights are coming to life and illuminating the road with a golden glow as you turn onto your street and finally breathe a sigh of relief. Your husband's bright blue Ford Bronco sits in your driveway as you pull in behind it. It's only a few minutes before you're unlocking the door and finally stepping out of your heels. Rather than the giggling stampede you expect, the house is nearly silent. Sure, there is the ever-present low hum of Bluey pouring out of your living room, but the undercurrent of chaos usually present in your home with a 3-year-old, an 8-month-old, and not one but two dogs isn't there at all. You place your bag on the side table and stretch your tense muscles before padding silently to the living room and peeking in. Your son, Arden, rocks in his swing seat on the floor, suckling happily on a pacifier. Surrounding him lies the residue of what looks to be a war zone of dinosaurs versus Barbies, your daughter Maria's favorite game at the moment. You can't see her yet, but boy, can you hear her now.

"Daddy, Daddy! The dinoswars won! I twout the Barbies were gonna win. You tolded me they would win!" Her little voice pipes on and on about how sad it was that the Barbies lost. Interspersed with her chatter, your husband hums inquisitively to keep the conversation going. Your grin grows at your husband's voice when the little miss runs out of steam.

"Baby, maybe the Barbies didn't win because you forgot something?"

"What, Daddy?"

"What magic spell did Daddy tell you the Barbies needed to beat the big bad dinosaurs so you could save Ardy?"

"I hadda brush all their hairs and kiss them."

"That's right, baby. But you forgot one thing." Maria makes a little confused hum, and your husband continues, "You forgot to comb your hair and Daddy's!"

"Oh!" Her little squeal of realization is too cute. "Daddy, help!"

"Gimme the comb, Princess. Gonna make you look all pretty so we can save Arden from the big bad dinosaurs." 

You step a little bit closer. The kids are entirely occupied with the game, and the dogs, Tramp and Falcon, are curled up in one of the dog beds. The only person to notice you is your husband, who winks at you from his spot in the war zone of toys your living room floor has become. 

"All done!" He proclaims, "Don't you look beautiful?!" He smacks a loud wet kiss against her cheek as she giggles loudly.

"Daddy, wait!" Maria's all bossy now, "We forgot one thing!"

"What's that?" Your husband is the best.

"Your moostach, Daddy!" She's smiling proudly at pronouncing the word mostly correctly. 

"Alright, baby girl. C'mere. Let's comb my mustache and defeat these dinosaurs before mama gets home."

He tugs Maria to stand in between his legs and hands her the bright pink doll's comb. He sits there with unerring patience as your baby carefully runs the comb through his mustache, wiggling his upper lip occasionally to make her laugh. It's absolutely adorable to see. Bradley Bradshaw had confided to you early on in your relationship that he was afraid to have children. As he’d lost his father at a young age, he didn't know what it meant to be a good dad. All that fear turned into uncontrollable love the minute he held Maria in his arms, and he'd proven what a fantastic father he was every day since. You’re unbelievably in love with this man. That love only swells in your chest when you see the glittery butterfly clips nestled in his curls and the love in his eyes as he devotes all of his attention to your little princess. 

Unsurprisingly, of your two kids, Arden sees you first, giving you a gummy smile and squealing as he wiggles his little body to catch your attention. You step into the warzone willingly, carefully avoiding stepping on any of the toys, and heft your youngest into your arms. He’s warm and baby-soft in your arms as you snuggle him close, breathing in the scent of his baby shampoo and the special detergent you use on his clothes. Hurricane Maria is not to be deterred, though, as she wraps herself around your leg and kisses your thigh.

“Princess, princess, c’mere.” Bradley sounds so fond as he tries to free your daughter from her limpet-like grasp of your leg. “Let Mama and Ardy sit down, baby girl. Then you can cuddle her all you want!” He coaxes her away and pulls her into his lap as he sits on the sofa. You join them, letting the soft cushions conform to your body. Maria joins Arden in your arms, and you finally let yourself decompress.

"Hey, Mama," Bradley murmurs.

"Hi, B," Your voice is soft as you turn your head to kiss him. 

"How was your day?"

"Terrible. But it's better now. It’s always better when I have you and our babies in it."

You smile into the kiss he gives you, relishing in your husband's taste before focusing all of your attention on your children in your arms. Maria chatters about everything she'd done during the day, and you converse happily with her. Arden babbles at breaks in the conversation, and you love seeing Maria interact with him. It'll soon be time for dinner, baths, and bed, but for the next few moments, you can rejoice at the feeling of having everything you love at your fingertips.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #this is purely indulgent fluff

[magiccath]

TARDIS Tricks

Tenth Doctor/Reader (could be any Doctor if you squint)

Summary: In which the TARDIS pulls some matchmaking schemes

The last week had been exhausting. Life with the Doctor usually was, but this week was just a little too much for you. Not just you either, the Doctor was wiped out too.

He pushed the doors of the TARDIS open with a tired sigh, throwing his long brown coat over one of the numerous coral-like branches littered throughout the control room. Then, he made a b-line for his worn-out captain’s chair, slumping into it dramatically. His long, spindly legs stretched out in front of him, making him appear taller than he was - if that was even possible. The way he stretched was more than akin to the characteristics of the cats you had encountered.

You weren’t much more energetic about your entrance, throwing your coat next to his and moving to slump against the circular console.

“Can we please take a break from the running?”

“We haven’t been running that much,” he groaned, though you could tell he was thinking the same thing. He might have ‘superior Time Lord biology’, but he was clearly as tired as you were. Maybe there was a limit to the running he could do.

“Daleks, New New York, then that weird Bio-tech company, followed by the literal end of the universe, and wrap it all up with diamond rain on Saturn.”

“Suppose there has been a lot of running,” the Doctor grumbled again, admitting defeat. “How about a day or two of rest? Get some sleep and relax a bit?”

You nodded, glad he finally understood what you were trying to say. All you wanted was to sleep for at least 8 hours uninterrupted. Ideally, 12 hours.

“Don’t fall asleep in that chair,” you scold, noticing how he already appeared to be half asleep, “you’ll get back pain and then you’ll be insufferable. Go to bed, I know you have one somewhere.”

The Doctor grumbled, not bothering to form a full and coherent sentence. You kicked his leg, not hard enough to truly hurt him, just enough to get him out of the chair. He grumbled again and sat up in the chair, stretching his slender arms above his head.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, already looking slightly more alert. Slightly. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, you decided to head off to your bedroom.

You walked slowly down one of the numerous, winding halls of the TARDIS. You’d walked to your room hundreds, if not thousands, of times by now. You knew exactly where it was, and it wasn’t there. In the space where your door would normally be was… nothing. You tapped around the wall, wondering if perhaps the Doctor replaced your normal door with some kind of seamless door mechanism.

When the wall didn’t yield you let out a frustrated grunt, “What did you do?” you asked the TARDIS, resting your hands on the smooth surface of her walls. The wall was cold to the touch, colder than usual that is. Normally, you felt something when you touched her. The best way you could describe it was a presence. But, at the moment, you felt nothing.

Aggravated, you sulked your way back to the control room.

“Where is my room?” you glared at the Doctor, hands on your hips. Normally, you’d play along. Hide his Sonic Screwdriver or coat somewhere he couldn’t find it. This time, you were far too tired to humor him.

“What d’ya mean?” the Doctor frowned in confusion. “Did you get lost in the hallways again?”

“No, I know where my own room is and it’s not there!”

The Doctor’s frown deepened as he got up from his seat, brushing past you and into the hallway. He took long strides down the corridor, stopping in front of where your room normally was. He slipped his glasses out of his inner pocket, sliding the specs onto the bridge of his nose. His head tilted to the side as his hands ran over the smooth wall, examining the space with his characteristic curiosity.

“Did you do this?”

“What? No, why would I steal your room?” He peered over his shoulder, almost offended that you would suggest such a thing.

“You’ve done weirder things,” you argued, crossing your arms.

“Name one,” the Doctor challenged, mirroring your defensive stance.

“The time you put a pigeon in my shower,” you responded immediately, not needing time to think about weird things the Time Lord had done. It was one of the things you liked best about him, he was constantly strange. It made things fun, but it could also make things incredibly aggravating.

“He needed a bath. Have you met pigeons? They’re filthy.”

“Wash your pigeons in your own shower!”

“That's… that’s not the point here,” he mumbled, clearly deflecting the conversation. “Your room is missing.”

“I noticed,” you deadpanned, not looking away from him. “Can I have it back?”

“I told you, I didn’t take it.” The Doctor threw his hands up defensively.

“Rooms don’t just walk away,” you say, glaring at him. By now, your irritation was bordering on anger. All you wanted to do was fall into your soft bed and not leave until this exhaustion wore off, but you needed a bed to do that.

“Maybe the TARDIS sorted it away,” he shrugged. As if accentuating his point, the TARDIS let out a soft hum. You weren’t even sure it was real at first, maybe it was just the air conditioning kicking on.

“Did she just…?”

The Doctor nodded, confirming your theory that the TARDIS had responded to him. What reason did she have for storing your room away? You were about 98% sure that you still lived on the ship.

“Is this her way of kicking me out?” The TARDIS let out another hum, this one in clear disapproval. Not kicking you out, then.

You let out a small sigh of relief. You’d never admit it, but you had never felt more at home anywhere else in your life. Realistically, that wasn’t because of the TARDIS. It was the Doctor, he could make any place feel like home to you.

“Well then, can I have my room back please?” you asked the TARDIS

The corridor was silent. In fact, the whole ship was silent, if that was even possible.

Something you learned early on in your travels with the Doctor was that the TARDIS was the one really in charge. What she says goes. Always. It doesn’t matter if you were promised a beach vacation and ended up in the middle of winter in Victorian England. And it most certainly didn’t matter if you wanted a bedroom or not. She was a force to be reckoned with, and you respected that.

“I’ll sleep on the couch in the library, we can deal with this in the morning.” You decided it was easier to just let the TARDIS work through whatever tantrum or scheme she was cooking up. Sometimes when traveling with the Doctor it was better to just go with the flow - and that didn’t just apply to ship malfunctions or sleeping arrangements.

You trudged down the corridor, heading for the vast library. It really was an impressive library, even better than the one in Beauty and the Beast. Shelves lined the walls and extended up high for multiple stories. It was easy to get lost in the room because it was so large. Most of the time you just asked the TARDIS for directions if you needed a specific book. Mostly, you just used it as a calm and quiet place to take a break between your chaotic adventures with the Doctor.

Usually, there were at least three couches in the room at a time. Your favorite was a mustard yellow, not a particularly nice color (especially for a couch), but it was beyond comfortable. The issue was that the couch wasn’t there. Furthermore, there wasn’t any couch in the large room.

“Doctor!” you call out loudly, staring blankly at the space where there should be a couch. There were small circles on the wood where the legs of the couch would normally sit, leading you to assume that you weren’t going crazy. The TARDIS had stolen your room and now your favorite couch.

“What’s the issue now?” the Doctor grumbled, rubbing his face tiredly as he strode into the library. He came to a standstill next to you, staring at the empty floor with equal confusion.

“She got rid of the couch.”

“I can see that,” the Doctor said, his eyebrows raising in interest.

“I’m exhausted, I'm grumpy, and I just want to sleep,” you whisper urgently, almost on the verge of tears. It felt silly to be upset over such a small thing, but you were beyond tired. Your brain was functioning on sheer willpower and that was quickly running out.

“I know, I know,” the Doctor whispered sympathetically, gently lifting your face up to look at him. “Look, you can sleep in my room. She hasn’t taken that.”

“That's where you sleep,” you point out, trying not to show how flustered the endearing touch had made you.

“Normally, yes,” the Doctor smiled slightly, finding your response slightly comical. “It’s a nice bed, though I’m not sure it would matter much to you either way at this point.”

“Where would you sleep?” You frown, knowing that he needs the sleep just as much as you do, even if he would never admit it.

“I don’t need to-” he started but cut off once he saw your glare. “I can sleep in the console room, that chair isn’t really that bad,” he amended.

“You’ll hurt your back, I already told you not to fall asleep there.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” the Doctor shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He would do anything for you, sleeping on a chair that hurt his back was nothing in comparison.

“I’m not letting you sleep in the chair,” you insisted, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

“No one is sleeping in the chair!” the Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I could just sleep on the floor, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, I’m not letting you do that,” he said seriously.

“What do you propose then?”

“Well… we could…” the Doctor trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. By now, you knew it as one of his many nervous tics. “We could share the bed,” he finally said, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Share your bed?”

The Doctor nodded, still not fully looking at you. At this point, you were too tired to question it, or even really think about it.

“Can we even do that? Are you ok with that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. As you’re comfortable with it,” he said back, his tone only slightly less panicked. He wasn’t even sure when the last time he shared a bed was.

“Alright,” you whisper with a slight blush.

“I’ve never seen your room,” you add after a few seconds.

“You haven’t?”

You shake your head, “it could be a torture dungeon for all I know.”

“It’s- it’s not-” he struggled before realizing you were joking. “It’s a normal bedroom,” he whispered, already walking out of the library.

You smile to yourself and follow him down the hall, the only sound the soft tap of your footsteps. His room wasn’t far from where yours would normally be, just a few turns down the hall and to the left. The door was the same blue as the TARDIS, almost identical to the front doors of the ship.

The Doctor opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it ajar so you could follow.

Whatever you had expected when it came to the Doctor’s room, it wasn’t this. Almost every square inch of the place was covered with things. Gadgets and gizmos, rocks, keys, books, alien-looking things, and-

“Is that Starry Night?” you frown, looking at a framed picture leaning against a corner.

“Oh, yeah, Vincent gave that to me,” the Doctor shrugged like he didn’t have one of the most recognizable paintings in all of history on his bedroom floor.

“Isn’t it supposed to be in the MoMa?”

“That one’s fake. Don't tell anyone though, I’m not really supposed to have this one,” the Doctor shrugged, undoing his tie and slipping it off his neck. You tried to not follow the movement with your eyes, the nimble movement of his hands as he undid the knot capturing your attention.

You looked away embarrassed, turning your attention back to the painting. “Did you steal Starry Night?!”

“No, I told you, Vincent gave it to me,” he frowned at you, wondering if the exhaustion was finally getting to you. He had just told you that.

“And you just… decided to keep it on your bedroom floor? Next to your trash can and first editions of Lord Of The Rings?”

“That’s not a trash can, it’s an artifact from B-739. Priceless, don’t touch it.”

“Right, 'cause that’s the priceless item in here that I’m worried about accidentally defacing.”

“If you’re going to bully my possessions, I’m not gonna let you sleep in here,” he grumbled, a pout barely evident on his face.

“I’ll shut up,” you say, looking around the rest of the room. You kept your comments to yourself, instead taking the time to admire the strange collection of things the Doctor kept in his room. It was like a personal museum of all of time and space. That is if the museum prioritized shiny objects and children’s toys from the early ‘90s.

It was all very him, and you couldn't help but feel safe in the room. Sure, you felt safe everywhere on the TARDIS, but this was different. If you could, you would have spent hours scouring every inch, wanting to learn everything you could about the Doctor.

You tugged your attention the the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, but it also wasn’t ridiculously large for one (albeit, strangely tall) Time Lord. The sheets were dark blue silk with a thick woolen blanket on top, also in a matching blue.

“Do you need PJs?” he asked, poking his head out of the closet he was currently in. The doors were a dark oak with a row of ties hanging on the inside of one. The patterns ranged anywhere from solid colors to cartoon characters from your childhood you had forgotten existed. You smiled as your eyes caught on a brightly colored tie with Winnie the Pooh on it.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you nod, turning your attention back to him. A few moments later he came back into the main room carrying two sets of PJs. You’d only seen the Doctor out of his trademark suit once or twice, for all you knew he just slept in it. Maybe he invented some kind of sleep suit, like a three-piece made entirely out of comfortable knit fabric.

He handed you one set of PJs, a classic striped set. He held in his hands another set, that one also striped, just in a different colorway. You’d never put much thought into what the Doctor wore to bed, but for some reason, this made sense to you.

“Bathroom’s over there,” he tilted his head in the direction of a door in the corner. You took the clothes and made your way over to the room, closing the door gently behind you, the ‘click’ reverberating through the silent space.

There wasn’t anything spectacular about the bathroom. By most standards, it was a perfectly ordinary bathroom. Even still, it’s clear to you who this bathroom belonged to. Various products (mostly ones for hair styling) were scattered across the countertop, but you didn’t feel like it was a mess.

There was a bright, puffy, flower-shaped rug in front of the sink that reminded you of something you might find in a Barbie Dollhouse circa 2002. In contrast, the shower curtain was a bright striped pattern that reminded you of a beach ball. In any other room, the decorations wouldn’t have matched, but knowing this was the Doctor’s doing made it all make sense to you.

You slipped the pajamas on quickly. You looked a little ridiculous in the Doctor’s clothes, like you were playing dress up in his closet. They didn’t fit you perfectly, but that much was expected. Even still, the fabric smelled like the Doctor, leaving you with the aching feeling that he was hugging you. You pressed your nose against the sleeve, breathing in the familiar smell before realizing you were smelling the Time Lord’s pajamas.

You shook yourself out of it and exited the bathroom, poking your head tentatively into the main room. The Doctor was sitting on the bed, having already changed into his PJs. His head turned at the sound of the door, smiling slightly at the sight of you.

“Do y’a need anything else?” he asked.

You shook your head, standing in the doorway awkwardly. Seeing him sitting there, on the bed, made it all seem real. You couldn’t do this. How could you share a bed with the man you had the biggest crush on ever?

“I- well, I can’t-” you stammered, trying to put your thoughts into words. Your brain was tired and panicking, the combination leaving you unable to fully express anything. “I can just sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, just get in the bed.”

You shift anxiously, tugging at the sleeve of the PJs he gave you. There was no way to explain it to him without admitting your feelings. It was a double-edged sword. Or maybe it was paradoxical. It didn’t really matter.

Begrudgingly, you slide under the covers next to him. You lay like a corpse, your hands firmly tucked at your side as you stare up at the ceiling. He had those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. They weren’t even just haphazardly stuck up there, he took the time to form them into actual constellations. The ones that he’d shown you up close.

You felt a twinge in your heart. It took everything in you not to turn to your side and hug him right now. His hugs felt like oxygen to you. You could be having the worst day ever, but a hug from your favorite alien never failed to brighten it.

The Doctor turned the bedside lamp off, sending the room into darkness. Your eyes were still glued to the stars, their soft glow highlighting them against the black of the room. He settled down in the bed next to you. You felt every single shift as he got comfortable, the feeling of him next to you distracting. It was hard not to think about how much you liked the Time Lord when you were literally in his bed. It was impossible not to feel his presence next to you, the weight of another person weighing down your mind.

“You ok?” the Doctor whispered, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. Maybe if you said it, it would be true.

You felt his hand slide against yours, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. You didn’t dare move, you didn’t even pull your gaze from the cluster of glow-in-the-dark stars above your head. Tentatively, he slid his hand into yours.

This wasn’t the first time you had held his hand. Far from it, actually. You held his hand almost every day. It was easy to get lost in space, it was just easier if you held onto each other. But this time was different, the intimacy of it making your heart thunder against your chest.

Neither of you said anything, the silence filling the room. Eventually, your eyes fluttered closed, the fluorescent greenish afterglow of the plastic stars remaining in your mind. It didn’t take long for you to slide out of consciousness, the heavy weight of sleep taking over and dragging you down.

-

You woke up of your own accord, a pleasantry you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced. No droning alarm, blinding rays of early morning sunshine, dogs barking, or anything else of the sort. Just your mind and body, having decided they were thoroughly rested, arising of their own accord - an internal affair rather than an external one.

After the initial fogginess of waking up after hours of deep sleep, you became quickly aware of your surroundings. Not just the Doctor’s bed or even his bedroom, but the Doctor himself. More specifically, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

At some time during the night, the exact timing unbeknownst to either of you, the two of you had found your way into each other’s arms. The action was seamlessly smooth, so much so that it almost felt rehearsed.

Your legs slotted together like expertly crafted puzzle pieces, fitting together in a way that made more sense than it should have. Could legs even fit together? You suppose they must if you were experiencing it. His chin rested on top of your head, his nose occasionally bumping the crown of your head as he shifted and nuzzled in his sleep. Your own head was tucked against his chest, your ear positioned right between his beating hearts.

The steady thumping of the twin organs pumping blood through his system was mesmerizing, the sound strangely familiar and comforting. You could feel the vibrations through your body, the asynchronous beats reverberating around in your head.

Slowly, the panic started to creep in, invading the sense of calm you had felt seconds before. You were in the Doctor’s arms. You woke up in the Doctor’s arms. Even worse, the Doctor was going to wake up and find you in his arms.

As if on cue, the Doctor started to stir awake. Low grumbles left his mouth as he buried his face further into the pillow beneath him. You stiffened, the change in posture immediately noticeable. You cursed yourself for drawing more attention to the situation.

The Doctor looked down at you, his tired brown eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, unsure what else to do.

“Good morning,” he whispered groggily, his voice at least an octave deeper than usual. You felt your cheeks heat up, almost certain that a blush was rapidly spreading across your face. He wasn’t moving you away or screaming in horror. If anything, he was holding you tighter now.

“Good morning,” you patored back, unable to form any words of your own. What was there to say? “Sorry, I’m a compulsive sleep cuddler, this totally isn’t because I have a massive crush on you please don’t read into it.”

The Doctor’s thumb rubbed small, concentric circles on the small of your back, his eyes still hung up on your face. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that, like the most beautiful thing in the whole galaxy, like it was nothing.

As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, the Doctor stopped immediately. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and released his arms from around you, the sudden loss of contact disjointed. You frowned slightly and scooted to the other side of the bed, sitting up in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hurriedly, his eyes purposefully avoiding you.

“It’s ok, I really don’t mind, I mean honestly it’s probably my fault,” you responded too quickly, your words falling out of you without much thought. “It’s really not that big of a deal,” you lied.

The Doctor finally looked over at you. By now, you were in expert in reading him. The secret was to look in his eyes. It didn’t matter what face he had, his eyes always told you everything you needed to know. You’d never seen them like this, though. An unfamiliar emotion him, a combination of his emotes you were so familiar with creating something you didn’t know. That worried you.

“Yeah,” he whispered, the look gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. He was back to his cheery self in minutes, stretching his body and springing up out of bed. “Let’s get on with it, maybe the TARDIS has found your room. I’d like to go visit The Beatles, what do you think?” he babbled on, striding across his room.

You scrambled out of his bed, almost begrudged to leave the silky warmth of his sheets. You scurried after him, practically running into his back as he came to a sudden stop. An annoyed groan escaped your lips as you peered over him, searching for the cause of the sudden stop.

The Doctor was pulling on his door handle, struggling to get it open.

“Forget how to open a door?”

“I’m over 900, I didn’t forget how to open a door,” he frowned, still tugging on it.

“Let me try,” you pushed him gently out of the way, tugging on the door handle yourself. Sure enough, it refused to budge. You pulled on it again, using both hands this time. Nothing.

Sheepishly, you turn back to the Doctor, ashamed to admit that he was right. “It’s stuck.”

The Doctor crossed his arms and nodded, an ‘I told you so’ look plastered on his face. He swiftly pulls the Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket, pointing it at the door with his usual flourish. When it does nothing, he presses a few buttons on the device before trying again. After a few minutes of this, he finally gives up and resorts to kicking the door.

“Doctor!” you cry, grabbing his arm and forcibly dragging him away from the door before he can damage it or himself.

“Do you think…” you sigh, feeling guilty for even insinuating such a thing, “that the TARDIS locked us in here?”

“The TARDIS didn’t lock us in my room,” the Doctor says like it’s the most preposterous thing he had ever heard.

In response, the ship lets out a low groan of disagreement. More versed in the language of the ship, the Doctor noticed first. “You locked us in here?!” he hisses at seemingly nothing, but you know who it’s directed at. The TARDIS hums again, this time in a more approving tone.

“Why?” you butt in to ask. You’re met with nothing but silence.

“I don’t think she’s going to answer that,” the Doctor whispers in your general direction. The ship lets out another hum of approval.

You groan loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat. Not knowing what else to do, you slump back down onto the Doctor’s bed. You sit there for a few seconds just staring at the carpet (‘90s arcade patterned, of course) before the mattress dips next to you. You pull your eyes way from the garish carpet to look at the Doctor, his face equally as dejected as yours.

“I suppose there are worse places to be stuck,” you offer, “could be Mars.”

“There’s more to explore on Mars.”

“There aren’t ‘priceless’ artifacts from B-739, a mobile of the solar system that I’m pretty sure is intended for children, a box of Hotwheels cars, and a collection of pirate maps all in the same corner.”

“The mobile was a gift,” the Doctor defended.

“That’s what you got from all of that?” you chuckle. “It’s like the world's most clustered, excentric, space museum in here.”

“I don’t really sleep in here much. I suppose it’s just become a storage room of sorts,” the Doctor says sheepishly, almost embarrassed to be this open with someone. Sharing this much of his life with you felt strangely raw.

“I think it’s perfect,” you smile, the expression lighting up your whole face, “it’s very you. Chaotic, unorganized, other-worldly, and… beautiful,” you whispered, eyes scanning across the room. It didn’t matter how much you looked at it, there always seemed to be something new and fascinating to look at.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was looking at you. He was flabbergasted at how interested you seemed in it all. The tiny twinkle in your eye reminded him of all the stars he had shown you, all of the alien planets and beautiful corners of space. Yet, you weren’t looking at something particularly odd or beautiful, you were looking at his room. His messy, haphazard collection of strange objects and patterns.

Then, you turned that curious gaze in his direction. He felt his hearts speed up, a subtle but noticeable shift within his body. It was a nasty habit, his body getting excited every time you looked at him like that. He was 903, pretty people smiling at him shouldn’t make him react this way. Yet, you did.

-

Neither of you could figure out what the TARDIS wanted from you, so you eventually gave up trying. There was no point in fighting with the ship, both of you knew that was a losing battle.

You read the Doctor’s first edition of The Hobbit in the comfy warmth of his bed. In that time, the Doctor opted to pace back and forth and fiddle with the door relentlessly. Finally, he gave up and joined you on the bed.

“Do you have any ideas of why we’re in here?” he asked, pulling the book from your hands. You let him slip the paperback from your hands, throwing it on the duvet without bothering to mark your place in the book.

“If I did, we wouldn’t be in here,” you pointed out, looking at the discarded book longingly. The Doctor popped his head back into your field of vision, clearly not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“It has to do with both of us, otherwise she wouldn’t have hidden your room.”

“Maybe she just thinks we need a few days off.”

The Doctor shakes his head, “She wouldn’t lock us in a room for that, she would just refuse to fly anywhere.”

“Maybe she thinks we’re fighting. Are we fighting?”

“Not that I know of,” he shrugs.

“I didn’t think so. Maybe we pissed her off?”

The Doctor shook his head again, “she doesn’t seem mad.” You didn’t need to question any further, you knew that the Doctor could read the TARDIS’ emotions better than his own sometimes.

“If it’s not anger, what is it?”

“Annoyance?” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was guessing or just generally unsure.

“Has she ever done this before?”

“Once she locked me out of the ship when I complained about her never taking me where I wanted to go, but this is different.”

“Have you said anything mean about her lately?” you asked more out of curiosity than animosity, but the Doctor interpreted it as the latter. He could be quite sensitive.

“No! Have you?”

“I have nothing but love and respect for the ship. She has put up with you longer than any of us ever could.” The TARDIS hummed in agreement while the Doctor scowled.

“I don’t know what we did!” he groans, falling back dramatically on the bed.

“Are you hiding something from me? A big secret?” you say as if you aren’t the one hiding feelings for the other.

The TARDIS lets out a quiet hum that lets you know you’re on the right track and you grin, poking the Doctor.

“I’m not hiding anything!” he swats you away, “maybe you’re the one hiding things away.”

You shake your head. For a second the two of you just look at each other. It’s hard not to get lost in his deep brown eyes, they’re endless pools of wisdom that can only come from centuries of living. Beneath the wary tiredness and stoic armor you can see who he really is, a lost wanderer looking for a place to call home. It was foolish, but you secretly wished you could be that home.

“You have really nice eyes,” the Doctor whispered.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you whisper back.

“You were also thinking about how nice your eyes are?” he frowns in confusion.

You laugh, a smile taking over your face at his blatant obliviousness. “No, I was thinking your eyes are nice. I like them.”

“Oh… thank you?”

You nod, momentarily getting lost in his eyes again. Your mind was a mess, a kaleidoscope of him, the TARDIS, and your feelings for the former. You wanted so desperately to tell him how you felt, as you often did. Albeit, now was not the opportune moment. If he reacted poorly, you’d still be stuck in the room with him for an unknown amount of time.

And then it hit you. The TARDIS wanted you to admit something. She knew you had a secret, she maybe even knew what the secret was.

“Doctor?” you whisper shakily, surprised to find your voice uncertain and wavy.

“Mhm?” He pulled his attention to you.

“I just wanted to say that I love you.”

The room was silent for a moment. Neither of you moved or said a word, the normally quiet sounds of breathing and movement heightened by the lack of words between you.

“You too,” he finally said, his voice quiet. You knew admitting feelings was hard for him, especially when it came to things like love, so you couldn’t really blame him for the lackluster response.

You nodded, “I mean as more than a friend.”

“I know.”

Now it was your turn to sit in silence, your brain whirling as it tried to process his words. Was it hopeful to assume that he felt the same? That was what he had said, no?

“I’m very fond of you,” he added, sensing your confusion on the matter. “As more than a friend.”

You studied his eyes again. That unfamiliar look was back. For a minute you entertained the thought that it might be a look of admiration, love even.

The Doctor moved his hand into yours, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. It was a normal action from him, but it still sent your stomach into a frenzy.

“It’s quite an inconvenience, honestly. Makes it hard to get anything properly done when you’re around.”

You chuckle, a small smile forming on your lips.

“You’re my favorite distraction,” he said earnestly. In his own way, it was his way of saying you were the most fascinating, beautiful, unique, and magnificent thing he had ever seen. He’d rather have a day with you than centuries with anyone or anything else.

He leaned closer to you, his face hovering inches away from yours. He waited, giving you time and space to move away or protest. When you didn’t, he slowly closed the gap.

His lips connected with yours, the kiss short and light, but it conveyed the years of affection and yearning. He pulled away, both of you smiling like love sick idiots.

Satisfied, the TARDIS opened the door with a click, the sound echoing around the room.

#tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor ~ the TARDIS #the Doctor & the TARDIS #the TARDIS is sneaky #TARDIS shenanigans #10th doctor #tenth doctor #the doctor #the tardis #tardis #doctor who #david tennant #fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #gender neutral reader #no use of y/n #purely self indulgent #one bed trope #there was only one bed #bed sharing #fluff #friends to lovers #magiccath

[gi4hao]

☆ in which a bag of groceries make seungkwan measure the extent of your love

☆ seungkwan x gn!reader — cw: food, seungkwan’s tits are out (._.)

there’s a tension growing in your upper back from carrying so many grocery bags on your own. giving yourself a quick shoulder rub, you make your way to your bedroom whose door is still shut.

carefully opening it, you’re relieved to see it’s still pitch black inside; you’ve apparently been quiet enough not to wake seungkwan up. or at least you have been until now:

“hey sunshine”, his drowsy voice greets you from the bed. in the dark, you can barely make out his arms stretching over his head. “where were you? what time is it?”

he leans to the side to turn on your bedside lamp; the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes make your heart swoon just a little.

“10 am. i went grocery shopping, figured the supermarket would be less crowded in the morning”, you reply, sitting next to him.

and you were right, there was practically no one in the aisles today; which was more than welcome considering you had to buy enough groceries to feed all twelve members’ stomachs tonight.

“you should have woken me up!” seungkwan protests, but the way his eyes are still struggling with adjusting to the light proves how much he needed to sleep in. “…did you find everything you wanted?” he asks, lifting one end of the covers to invite you in.

you nod as you happily snuggle against his bare chest, something that might be due to the fact that most of his comfy t-shirts are hidden away on your side of the closet.

“i bought some peanut butter for the cookies, of course i’ll also make regular ones for vernon”, you start explaining, trying to remember the items in your bags: “some paper towels too. i also got some mangos to make those smoothies cheol told me about. oh and i found jun’s shampoo! the one that was sold out everywhere! he asked for two bottles just in case.”

cheek pressed against his skin, you can’t really see his smile growing a bit more with every sentence. but something about the way his fingers start to gently rub your scalp lets you know how grateful he’s feeling.

because not only have you made active efforts to remember these little details about the people he loves, you’ve made them happily and willingly. as if loving him and loving the people he cares about naturally came hand in hand to you.

“i think it’s about time i start gatekeeping you”, he eventually blurts out, bringing the covers up to your nose. “i’ll call the guys, tell them tonight is cancelled. i’m never letting you out in the world again.”

a bashful smile tugging on your lips, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him: “you can’t do that. you love showing me off too much. besides, we can’t rob the world of our insane chemistry.”

your words draw a chuckle out of him, because not even him and his usual wittiness can’t deny what you just said.

“i love you”, he simply replies, his fingertips lightly scratching the back of your neck.

you’ve been hearing these three words on a regular basis for the past couple of years, yet you’re still unable to suppress the giddiness in your eyes.

“i’m glad you do… because i paid the groceries with your credit card”, you reply teasingly, but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds before you add a sincere: “i love you too.”

basking in the intimacy of your old lamp’s yellowish hues, he leans forward to leave a delicate kiss on your lips, your breaths intertwining as his hand lays a bit flatter on your neck.

his smile echoes on your face when you finally break the kiss, as you watch him readjust his position to rest more comfortably on the pillow.

“you know, i might not actually gatekeep you forever… but i’m gonna borrow your freedom for one more hour”, he says, arms keeping you close to him, “i’m not ready to start the day yet.”

and for the next hour, neither of you can find their way back to sleep. instead, the room fills with waves of mundane conversations, laughter and soft kisses, reflecting the simple happiness of knowing you found the right person to spend a lifetime of mornings with.

#yes shirtless seungkwan was purely self indulgent #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabbles #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan drabbles #seventeen imagines

[desert-fern]

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day - Bradley Bradshaw X Reader

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw X Reader

Summary: When a bad day hits his girl hard, Bradley isn't one to let her suffer alone. So he does his best to help her out, even if that involves laying on top of her.

Warnings: Bradley being a sweetie, sensory overload, cuddles, a little angst, Bradley Bradshaw (because come on, that man is a warning unto himself), also barely proof-read and purely self-indulgent...

Word Count: 2200

===

The car door slammed shut behind you as you clenched your jaw in effort not to cry. Today had been horrid; losing your favourite water bottle somewhere between the house and work, no parking where you needed there to be, and on top of it all, your boss, blaming you for a mistake on a project that wasn’t yours to begin with. It was enough to drag even the brightest, happiest person down, and while you weren’t that person, you certainly tried to keep a positive mindset. 

But today just flat out sucked. All you wanted to do was curl up in bed in your pyjamas and your boyfriend’s t-shirt that you always stole, but life couldn’t be that easy. The house was still a mess from breakfast, a hasty affair due to the fact that your alarm didn’t go off, and it had to be cleaned up before you could even think about dinner. On top of that, Bradley wasn’t home. It was late for the both of you to be arriving home, and his absence just made the lump in your throat just that much bigger. 

You made it in the door, dropping your bags on the hardwood in the front entryway and just letting out a strangled huff, the only expression of your overstimulation that you could muster. It was like everything was too much and not enough all at once. And not in a good way. The sound of the now-falling rain pattering on the window panes had you gritting your teeth, trying desperately to hold it together long enough to change out of your work clothes. At least you weren’t caught out in the downpour. 

Closing your eyes in a frantic attempt to keep your wits about you, you navigated upstairs, flopping backwards on the unmade bed that you knew would make Bradley cringe. God knows why you had to fall for a Navy man. He could be a neat freak when he wanted to be and while he usually wasn’t, the bed was the one thing that could make a whiskey-coloured eye twitch. It was the last thing you needed. Yet another thing on the list, another item precariously thrown onto the comically large pile of stuff to do that you were struggling to balance. 

Your breath punched out of you, heart pounding in your ears as your clothes felt too tight on your body. Everything was just too much. 

Too loud. 

Too quiet. 

Too bright. 

Too… everything. 

“Fuuuuccckkk…” you whined, covering your eyes with your shaking hands. Your chest clenched, body struggling to reorient itself as you cried. 

Your mom and sister had told you that sometimes a good cry fixed everything, and right now, you were really hoping that they were right because everything was going wrong. But the lights were too much, so begrudgingly and painfully slowly, you made your way over to the light switch, flipping it off and collapsing back onto your bed, letting the tears flow. 

You relinquished your control on your feelings and just cried. Your head hurt, your chest ached as you tried to take in another breath into your desperate, air-starved lungs. “Why today?” You mumbled, burying your face into Bradley’s pillow. His scent was still clinging to the fabric, offering you some small relief in the smell of your apple body wash and his cedar and bergamot shampoo. 

God you just needed Bradley here. Needed him to hold you close, just wrap you up in a tight hug where the world wouldn’t be so loud, where you could just forget about the shit you had endured all day. That was all. 

You didn’t know how long you had laid there or when your tears had stopped, but you had. And your chest just ached, both from crying and the numbness that was settling into you like storm clouds gathering in a valley. The world was still too noisy. Too bright even as you lay in the dark, still wearing your work clothes and your body half-hanging off the bed. 

It was at this moment that your boyfriend came barging into the room, flicking the light on, humming some random song. Bradley had no idea you were in there. He knew you were home, but he honestly had no idea where you were, but figured that changing was probably his best move before he found you. 

It was enough for you to groan, tears welling in your eyes once more. You had been so close to sleep. So damn close. And then your handsome, loveable, oaf of a boyfriend just had to make noise. 

“Babe? What’s going on?” Bradley had just stripped off his flight suit, changing into a clean t-shirt when he’d heard your muffled groan. He found you curled up on the bed, head half under his pillow and still dressed in your work clothes, which was odd for you. You usually tossed your work clothes off the second you could. Something about taking off the day’s events with your blouse and bra. So he knew immediately that something was wrong. 

“Babe?” Bradley was loud, even his questioning tone was too much. It felt like pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, a coarse scraping sound that seemed to resonate in the air around. It was just too much.

“Itstoomuch,” you moaned, cursing yourself for the tears falling down your face yet again. “‘S too loud.” 

Bradley paused, mind whirring on how he could help. “How can I help?” He whispered, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Babe.” 

“Clothes,” you mumbled, rolling onto your back. You kept his pillow over your face, trying to block out the light. “Help, please.” 

He nodded, moving as quietly as he could around the bed so he was closer to you. Fingers slipped the buttons of your shirt from the button holes, trying not to touch you more than necessary. Bradley knew that you got overstimulated sometimes and one of the first conversations the two of you had had when you had started living together was about how he could help when this inevitably happened. 

When the last button slipped free, Bradley set about pulling a t-shirt of his over your head, moving the pillow just enough to slip it on. Your bra was unclasped and tossed behind him, and normally when that happened, you couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t get enough of his large hands roaming your body, the gentle, teasing scrape of his mustache against the sensitive skin… but that wasn’t today. And your absolute gem of a boyfriend knew that from one glance. You didn’t deserve him, not when he was clearly exhausted from work and was taking care of you. It was enough to make you start crying again, making your boyfriend freeze. 

“Babe? What’s going on?” Bradley was concerned, well, more concerned than he already was. “What’s wrong?” 

You mumbled something, but because the pillow was in the way, he understood none of what you had said. So he reached for his pillow, gently pulling it away, and immediately noting the tear stains on your face, the puffiness of your eyes and his heart sank. How long? 

“What was that?” He whispered, trying to get answers but also trying his best to keep his voice down. “Babe, I didn’t hear what you said.” 

“You don’t have to… do all this,” you replied, tears still leaking from your eyes. 

“‘Course I do, babe. You’re my girl, and my girl isn’t feeling good.” His amber eyes were full of concern, tracking the tears rolling off your cheeks and his mouth was drawn into a line. All Bradley wanted to do was help, but he didn’t know what you needed right now. “I’m staying here. So what do you need?”

“Can you lay on top of me?” 

“What?” Bradley blinked at you. “Honey, I’d squish you.” 

The idea made you crack a small smile. “It’s hard to explain, okay? Weighted blankets are supposed to help with this…” you trailed off, gesturing up and down your body. “And we don’t have one, so can you lay on top of me?” 

“I’m going to get you out of your work pants first because they can’t be comfortable, and then… I guess I’m laying on top of you?” He rubbed at his jaw, looking unsure before doing just as he said he would. 

Bradley knelt on the bed, knee-walking up a little higher before he stretched out, slowly pressing his weight on top of you, pausing as you started to giggle, which made him chuckle. “You okay, babe?” He asked, looking quite amused by the whole situation. Maybe half his total weight was on top of you, the rest kept off of you as he propped himself up on his elbows, watching your face try and school itself back into a neutral expression. 

Once you’d stopped giggling, Bradley lowered himself all the way down on top of you. He felt you sigh, your head turning into the crook of his neck. Bradley wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a little ridiculous laying on top of you like a dead fish, but if it helped you feel better, then he would do it a million times over. “Is this helping?” He mumbled, feeling you try and wiggle underneath him. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed. And it was. The pressure was comforting, grounding and it made you feel like the world wasn’t suffocating you anymore. All you could feel was the soothing weight of your boyfriend on top of you, and his slow, steady breathing that helped slow your own breathing down. “Thank you B.” 

You could feel him smile into your neck. “Good.” A beat, then he spoke again. “Can I hold you now?” He’d propped himself up on his elbows again, allowing himself to look you in the eyes. “C’mon babe. Let me cuddle my girl.” 

Heaving a sigh, you nodded, watching him roll off of you onto his side. Bradley settled himself before making grabby hands in your direction, grinning as you rolled your eyes and shuffled into his arms. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. One hand held the base of your neck, fingers weaving up into your hair, while the other curled around your lower back and finding its home on your bare hip under the t-shirt. “Happy?” You mumbled into his skin, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely him, before pulling back and wrinkling your nose at him. “You stink.” 

He laughed. “Well now I’m not happy because my girl wants to leave me,” Bradley complained dramatically, abruptly letting you go and rolling away. “I lay down on top of her and this is the thanks I get? Unbelievable!” 

His dramatics made you laugh as you pulled him back over to face you. “Bradley! Come on!” You were laughing too hard to get a good grip on his arm and you fell back onto the bed beside him, hearing him try and stifle his own giggles at your feeble attempt to pull him over. “Honey, come on! I’m sorry!” 

Bradley’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as you tried yet again to get him to face you, laughing all the while. It was in sharp contrast from how he’d found you some 20 minutes earlier, but you were clearly feeling better. So when you pulled at his arm again, he rolled over suddenly, laughing at your sudden shriek. Light was back in your eyes and the only tears falling were those of joy as you giggled at him. It made him grin widely before reaching over to pull you on top of him. 

You watched Bradley grin and you couldn’t help yourself, ducking down to peck him on the lips quickly before trying to clamber off him and the bed as quickly as you could. However, you didn’t get far. Bradley’s arms shot out, catching you around the hips and pulling you back onto the bed. 

“Where do you think you’re going, babe? Hmmm?” His teasing grin made you blush, but you bit your lip in an attempt to push it away. 

But then he rolled so that you were under him, as he held himself up by his hands. “I don’t know,” you mumbled, smiling up at him. You would never get over how pretty Bradley was. Even in the darkness surrounding you both, you knew that you could picture his face as perfectly as you would have with the lights on. 

“Running away from me…” he trailed off, before peppering kisses all over your face and neck, making you squeal and try in vain to push him off of you. 

“Bradley!” You shrieked. “I didn’t mean it!” His lips were everywhere; kissing your nose, cheeks, your jaw, but not your lips. So you caught his face, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. You poured your thanks into the gesture, hoping he understood just how much he’d helped. 

And he did. Bradley had promised himself to be there anytime he could when you needed him. Even if that took him laying down on top of you like he had on a day like today. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day. 

===

A/N: This was my first Bradley-centric piece! It was born out of the full day of sensory overload that I had and life suck, but, art imitates life so please be nice! Thanks for reading!

Tagging some people who might be interested: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @horseshoegirl @lovinglyeternal @sarahsmi13s @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @bradleybeachbabe @roosterbruiser @seresinsweetie @footprintsinthesxnd @roosters-girl @thedroneranger

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fluff #purely self indulgent

[iguessigotta]

no thoughts head empty what if alt!Gabriel x reader warnings: none here, but there will probably be some with alt!Gabe in the future

you obviously get big scary dog privilege i mean come on

no one's touching you but him

which......might not always be a good thing...?

at least you're safe from the other alters

he wraps you in his wings a lot

i headcanon Alternate Gabriel to be like 12ft tall so. you're tiny compared to him

he puts his hand on your head a lot. just like. engulfs your entire noggin

i also headcanon that he's able to change size to some degree (look he's probably Literally Satan he can do some Weird Stuff ok)

which means he is able to shrink himself down a bit

but 7'2" is the shortest you've ever seen him

he tends to watch you. a lot

i mean he's gotta perfect his disguise and what would be more helpful than a live subject to study?

listen he loves (well...love might not be quite right) you in his own way but he is also some kind of Creature so he's gonna be a bit odd

#uuhhhh #anyway #hacks this up like a cat with a hairball lmao #i have alt gabriel brain rot right now ok shhhh #tmc x reader #the mandela catalogue x reader #alt gabriel x reader #alternate gabriel x reader #alt gabriel x you #alternate gabriel x you #mandela catalogue x reader #alt gabriel headcanons #alt gabriel fluff #kinda #fluff but like nefarious lmao #not a request #pure self indulgence #no thoughts head empty

[its-not-sof]

feels like

mark smut + fluff (virgin!reader)

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t check the weather forecast that morning before you left for work.

As you stared up at the dark, angry sky, you contemplated the easiest way to get into your apartment building unscathed by the pelting rain. Instead of making a run for it, you sulked in your car, letting out a frustrated sigh.

You suddenly felt your phone buzz, and the face of your newly acquired boyfriend lit up the screen.

“Mark?” You answered his call, a hint of desperation evident in your voice.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Usually you’re back by now, so I already let myself in.”

You smiled warmly. It had only been a few months since you’d started officially seeing each other, but you felt so drawn to him immediately. He made you feel loved, safe and so happy. It was almost like a spare copy of your apartment key had just spontaneously made itself and appeared in your hands for you to give to him last week.

And boy, were you glad for it right now.

“Mark, can you do me a huge favor? I need you to grab my umbrella and bring it out to the parking lot. I’m going to get so soaked on my way in.”

Mark laughed.

“Of course, just give me a second, okay?”

Within moments, your boyfriend came into view, holding your travel umbrella precariously over his head in the windy storm. You steeled your nerves and quickly threw open your car door, taking off into a run towards him. Mark smiled and laughed, amused at your urgency.

“It’s just a little rain, Y/N,” he joked, calling out to you before you landed in his waiting arms.

Even your desperate sprint wasn’t enough to save you from getting drenched, your dripping clothes and skin clinging to your boyfriend’s jacket. When he stood for a moment without moving, you pushed against his chest.

“What are you waiting for, get inside!” You urged, huddling as close as possible to him.

Mark laughed again and pulled you close, teasingly hovering the umbrella just out of your reach for a moment before returning it over your head.

———

“If I catch a cold, it’s going to be your fault,” you huffed, ringing out your soaked hair in the kitchen sink. “From now on, I’m revoking your ‘holding the umbrella’ privileges.”

Mark smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek,

“You know I’ll be here to take care of you,” he mumbled. “No promises on changing my umbrella technique, though.”

You playfully swatted at his arms, laughing as he quickly tickled at your sides before releasing you to resume your work.

It had taken you a moment to remember that your clothes were completely soaked through. The drenched garments clung to your figure, and your white shirt became particularly see-through.

You turned to face Mark, finding him staring at you intently. You met his gaze and found the most adorable blush dust across his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t mind me— just enjoying the view,” he murmured.

Now it was your turn to blush. You had never undressed in front of Mark before. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d never done before. But the way he looked at you and the way the flirtatious comment rolled so easily off his tongue made you want to try.

Mark sensed something off in your reaction, and immediately backpedaled.

“You should get changed, love. You’re really going to get sick if you keep those on,” he said, a comforting smile gracing his features.

You felt a feeling of boldness bubble up inside your chest. You sucked in a quiet breath.

“Do you… want to help me take these off?” You whispered, letting your eyes meet his and impart your desires where your words lacked. Mark’s eyes widened in return, eyebrows raised at your sudden boldness.

“I mean, yes… yes please,” he purred. His tone shifted, only slightly to one of gentle concern. “Are you sure?”

You held his gaze, without faltering.

“Yes,” you breathed, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. “God, yes.”

Mark instantly pulled you impossibly closer, tangling his fingers in your wet hair, kissing you back with a fervent desire. His hands trailed down your back, brushing against your spine. You weren’t sure if your shivers were because of the cold, or the way his skin made contact with your bare back.

You pulled away only slightly, looking him in the eyes again.

“Can we do this in my room? I just— I’ve never—“ you sighed. “I’ve never done this before,” you admitted.

Mark smiled sweetly, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh, Y/N,” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Yes,”he took your hand, allowing you to lead him down the hallway.

You pushed open your door, turning to face him before crashing against his lips again. You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping your enthusiasm would make up for your lack of experience.

Mark took the lead, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling gently before reaching for your waist again.

His nimble fingers slipped underneath your soaked shirt, sliding it up slowly. You pulled away for a moment to help him rid you of the wet garment. Mark’s eyes fell to your lace bra, perfectly showcasing your soft breasts. He let out a gentle puff of air before he reached for them gently.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop, okay?” He whispered sincerely, gingerly caressing your skin. You nodded and placed your hands on top of his, guiding them to your chest.

Mark’s hands cupped your breasts, slowly massaging them and quickly finding your sensitive peaks through the lace. You let out a soft sigh as he began to tease them between his fingers.

“Mark…” you sighed, feeling a warmth begin to form in your core. You pulled him closer to you, and in turn, closer to your bed. He took the hint and pressed your body down into the mattress.

He reached behind your back to unhook the lace garment, and his eyes widened as it fell from your shoulders.

“Y/N… god, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered, thickly.

“Mark, please, I need you so bad,” you responded, placing his hands back on your body.

Mark didn’t waste any more time as he let his fingers stroke your soft skin and attached his lips to your exposed neck. You leaned back and threaded your fingers through his hair, keeping him in place. He sucked hard enough to bruise, soothing your raw skin with the tip of his tongue before continuing down your chest.

He stopped at your perked nipples, looking up at you before taking one into his mouth, sucking and licking at it until he heard you moan.

“Y/N, that is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” he purred. Your face flushed, and you refused to meet his gaze.

“I hope I get to hear that again tonight,” he smiled as he began to lavish the other breast with the same attention.

You felt a slickness begin to blossom between your legs, and suddenly your wet jeans became even more uncomfortable than they were before.

“Please, get these clothes off me,” you begged, scratching lightly at his shoulders.

Mark complied, carefully unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. His fingers brushed against your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He took a moment to take in your beauty— topless, flushed, soaked panties, and pert nipples. He’d never been harder in his life, he thought.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt your heartbeat race as more of your clothes came off, almost entirely exposing yourself to him. You reached forward and slipped your hands underneath his hoodie, urging him to take it off.

He complied, swiftly removing the garment over his head. You immediately pulled him closer, running your hands over his exposed chest and shoulders.

“You’re beautiful too, you know,” you whispered, giggling softly. Mark smiled into your shoulder, leaving kisses there before pulling back to look into your eyes.

“Y/N, I want you to tell me if anything is uncomfortable, or if I’m going too fast, okay? Promise me?”

You nodded, kissing him gently. Mark smiled, and carefully prompted you to spread your legs.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he hummed, softly tracing the outline of your folds through your thin, soaked panties. You shifted your hips slightly, swallowing hard as he found your clit and began to circle it.

Your breathing began to quicken as he continued with his agonizing pace, softly teasing you.

“Mark, please,” you whined, grinding down into his touch. Mark laughed softly.

“Okay, okay,” he cooed. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your thighs, exposing your dripping center.

You felt the urge to close your legs, suddenly embarrassed at him staring so intently at your most intimate area. Mark’s hands gently coaxed your thighs back open.

“Don’t be shy, love,” he murmured.

You shifted again, relaxing your hips and allowing your legs to fall open for him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, soothingly tracing your skin. He began to lower himself down onto the mattress until his lips were inches away from your core.

“Can I?” He requested, soft breaths fanning across your flaring heat.

You nodded quickly, sucking in a shallow breath.

Mark smirked and slowly licked a stripe up your folds.

“A-ah!” You sighed, squirming already at his touch.

Mark eased your thighs over his shoulders and held you in place while he gave a gentle suck on your most sensitive peak.

“M-Mark, oh god,” you jolted at the unfamiliar sensation, but immediately found yourself longing for more.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” He soothed, diving back in with gentle fervor.

You threw your head back onto the pillows as he began to suck and lick mercilessly at your heat, fingers massaging your inner thighs.

A gasp escaped your lips as his tongue began to flicker quickly across your clit, your hips bucking off the mattress. Mark’s hands held you in place, not allowing you to shy away from the pleasure.

Your breaths became ragged and heaving in between long, languid moans. You could almost feel Mark smiling as he kissed and hummed against your sensitive center.

“Mark, I-I’m getting close,” you whispered, locking your legs around his shoulders. You slid you eyes closed and focused on the feeling.

His lips closed around your sensitive peak once more, sucking hard and circling it with the tip of his tongue. The sensations became too much as his mouth pushed you over the edge for the first time.

“M-Mark!” You cried, feeling him tease you through your orgasm as your walls fluttered around his tongue.

Your chest heaved with uneven breaths as you came down from your high. You opened your eyes and saw Mark’s smiling face looking up at you from between your legs, his lips glistening with your release.

“Felt good?” He murmured, gently stroking your thighs. You giggled softly.

“God, yes,” you ran your fingers through his slightly disheveled hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear. “But, I want to make you feel good too, Mark,” you whispered, scratching lightly at his scalp.

Mark’s eyes were gentle yet full of lust. He knew exactly what you wanted from him.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You looked into his eyes and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you promised.

Mark released you from his hold and crawled back up to kiss your neck.

“Okay, love,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

You nodded, pulling him close and tracing your fingers across his bare back. You felt him grind his clothed hips gently across your core, and you felt him.

“Just do it, Mark,” you begged, palming him through his sweatpants.

He hissed as he felt your touch, and his reaction sent another wave of arousal through you.

You quickly freed his length from his clothes, and you tried to hide your intimidated reaction as best you could. He was bigger than you expected.

Mark sensed your hesitation immediately.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he murmured, gently stoking your cheek. You shook your head.

“No, I want to. Please?” You asked, looking up at him with confident eyes. Mark leaned in to kiss you slowly.

“Okay. Please stop me if it hurts, Y/N,” he said. “Promise?”

You caught his lips in another quick kiss.

“Promise.”

Mark nodded and carefully returned to your core, swiping his fingers along your folds before inserting one slowly.

You winced slightly at the unfamiliar sensation but quickly relaxed in his gentle hold.

“You okay?” He asked, gently making a ‘come hither’ motion with his index finger inside your walls.

You gasped, nodding quickly, adjusting to the feeling before he added another finger.

“God, you’re so wet, Y/N…” Mark leaned in close to whisper in your ear as his fingers sped up. You could hear a the faint sound of your arousal coating his digits.

“I’m ready, Mark, I promise,” you huffed, your breathing growing heavy again.

Mark placed a kiss behind your ear and trailed down your neck before removing his hand. A string of your wetness clung to his fingers, and he immediately dragged them across your swollen clit. You squirmed, waiting for him to give you what you really wanted.

“Mark…” you whined, shifting your hips impatiently.

“Alright, pretty girl. Just relax for me, okay?” He murmured, spreading your legs a bit wider and positioning himself at your entrance.

You braced yourself as you felt his tip against your folds. You unconsciously tensed a bit, preparing for the impact.

“Relax,” Mark whispered soothingly, massaging the backs of your thighs. “I got you, okay?”

You nodded and released the tension in your hips.

“Good girl,” Mark purred, feeling your muscles relax.

You hissed at the quick, dull pain as he began to push into you. You couldn’t help the quiet whimper that left your lips as you felt him stretch your entrance for the first time.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair and looking deeply into your eyes.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the tears prickling your vision. Blinking them away, you met his gaze again.

Mark brushed his thumb across your flushed cheek, catching the tears that fell.

“Just a little bit more, you’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Relax and breathe, okay?”

You smiled at him, urging him to continue. He carefully pushed into you again, causing you to let out another whimper.

“I got you, I’m right here, okay?” Mark soothingly stroked your thigh and cupped your cheek, talking you through his every move.

You soon felt his shallow thrusts beginning to bring a slow wave of pleasure to your core, and he slipped a hand down to gently circle your bundle of nerves. You bit your lip and cling to him tightly, your nails digging into his bare shoulders.

“Y/N, you feel so good,” he groaned, losing himself in your tight hold. “Talk to me. What do you need, love?”

Your mouth fell open as he sped up slightly, moving at a still slow but sensual pace.

“I-It feels good,” you cried. “Please, Mark, don’t stop.”

Mark continued his thrusts, holding you close and whispering soft praises in your ear. It wasn’t long until you felt another high approaching.

“I-I’m gonna— I think I’m—“

You moaned softly as your walls fluttered around his length, and simultaneously bringing him to climax along with it.

“Y/N!” Mark cried, pulling out quickly and releasing across your bare stomach.

Mark’s shoulders heaved as he came down from his own high, taking in the sight of you before him. You looked at him and began to laugh.

“Mark… I can’t believe—“ you smiled and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

Mark beamed at you, his eyes full of love.

“You did so well,” he murmured, stroking your cheek and brushing a few stray hairs away from your face. “My beautiful girl. I’m so lucky to love you.”

You giggled at his words, feeling like you were floating on air. Mark got out of the bed and quickly returned with a warm, wet towel, gently cleaning you up.

You couldn’t deny the dull pain that still ached in your core. Mark saw you wince as you shifted your hips slightly, and reached out to massage your inner thighs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, did it hurt too bad?” He asked, a bit panicked.

You shook your head.

“No, no— it’s not your fault.”

Mark refused to let go of your gaze, not convinced.

“Let me run you a bath, okay? Your hair is still wet from the rain, we should get cleaned up anyway,” he insisted, carefully removing the wet towel.

You nodded. He was right.

“That sounds amazing,” you sighed, smiling at him.

Mark leaned in for another kiss before heading to the bathroom.

You watched him walk away, then pause and turn to look at you before reaching the bedroom door.

“Hey. I love you.”

You smiled, almost giddy.

“Hey. I love you too.”

#mark lee smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream reactions #nct 127 smut #nct 127 #mark lee fluff #mark scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #OHHHHHH my god #dude I can’t believe I wrote all of this #I just love mark so much and feel like he would be the sweetest and funniest and kindest bf ever #again NOT a request #this is purely self indulgent #disregard all of these words okay #I just had to get this out of my brain bc it’s been living there rent free #anyways ily guys 🫶🏻 #nct mark #mark lee

[corrodedcorpses]

18+ mdni, Dom Steddie, Sub reader, subspace ish, fluff

Just thinking about having a bad day and just needing daddy!Steve and sir!Eddie to help you turn your brain off.

You find Eddie and Steve on the couch, watching TV. You come to stand in front of them, head tilted to look at your fingers as they pick at your skin, bottom lip slotted between your teeth. They both look at you expectantly as you feel their heavy gazes piece into you. You mumble out a quiet request. One that gets you a stern “speak up” from Steve.

“F-follow me, please?” you ask in a slightly louder squeak.

Usually you aren’t allowed to make demands but from the small, almost sad look on your face they know you need them right now. And as much as they hate to admit, you have them wrapped around your finger, so they let it slide. For now.

Eddie is the first to stand, reaching his hand out to you, letting you drag him into the room, Steve following closely behind. You let go of Eddie’s hand as you enter the room, Steve closing the door behind you as you sit on the edge of the bed.

Steve then slowly stalks towards you to stand next to Eddie facing you at the foot of your bed, Steve standing with his hands on his hips, Eddie with his arms crossed, curious but soft looks on both of their faces. When you don’t speak up right away Eddie breaks the silence.

“What do you need, pretty girl? You wanna play?” He asks with a smirk and a fake pout to his voice.

You weakly shake your head no, stuttering out “A hug, p-please daddy, sir?”

Both of their faces immediately soften.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie murmurs with a real pout this time.

“You don’t have to as for a hug like this honey,” Steve coos as he comes to pick you up, sitting on the bed with you in his lap, Eddie sitting next to you both, head resting on Steve’s shoulder as he rubs your back, your head nuzzling into the opposite side of Steve’s neck where it meets his shoulder.

“O-oh, right..” you say with real confusion. When you’re like this it's hard to get yourself out of that mindset, even when you know you aren’t playing with them.

You stay like that for a moment, strong arms around you and rubbing your back gently. You feel Steve’s steady heartbeat under your ear, the rhythm gently drumming away all the stress and anxiety from the day. It helps, having them close, feeling their skin against yours, hands against your back.

For a second your brain is finally quiet but the bliss doesn’t last long. As you feel the dark cloud of thoughts start to bubble up again, you sit up, head peeling away from its comfy spot on Steve.

They look at you expectantly, and god they're so cute, so much soft concern for you behind their eyes.

“I want you to turn my brain off… Don’t wanna think right now” you whine.

They share a look that tells you they knew this was coming. Smirks playing on both their lips as their personas turn back on.

Eddie’s hand comes up to caress your cheek, thumb swiping over your bottom lip, “Yeah? Wanna be our dumb little baby right now?” You nod excitedly, first mistake.

Steve’s hand comes up to wrap around your throat, warning you, and by the look on your face you know you messed up. “With no thoughts happening in this pretty little head?” Steve adds, testing you.

Your brain has already started to fog, the promise of what's almost here making it hard to focus on anything but you don’t dare disobey them again, not when you’re this close. You muster up any ounce of brainpower you had to help you whisper out your request:

“Please.”

#this is purely self indulgent #steddie #Eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #Steve Harrington x reader fluff

[the-broken-pen]

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remember who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.

#writing #writing community #creative writing #snippet #heroes and villains #angst #fic writing #ficlet #writing prompt #writblr #love #hero x villain #hero/villain #fluff #this is purely indulgence #I don’t know how it got to this but I like it #I love them your honor #theatre #young writer #actors #thank you for the ask 🩵 #literally grinding this up and snorting it right now #I have the worst headache and yet I prevail

[heeracha]

[ 3:47 PM ] — jay looks at you as he rests on the passenger seat. you were silent which was so unlikely. jay feels uncomfortable with the silent tension, wanting to talk to you. but you were obviously giving him the cold shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. jay doesn’t know how long you’re going to keep this up, but he also doesn’t know that you can’t resist him.

“what the hell were you thinking, jongseong?” you said, pretending to be mad, but you were just so worried for your poor boyfriend.

“…you?“ he softly chuckles and he sees your hand become whiter as you tighten your grip on the wheel. “i’m sorry, i don’t want you to break up with me?”

“why the hell would i break up with you?” you say.

“you seem to love cats so much, so i thought if you find out i’m allergic, you would get bored at me because i can’t take care of your cats with you, bring you to cat cafes, all cat related stuff!” jay says with a small frown on his lips.

stupid boyfriend, sigh.

stupid adorable boyfriend with such pure heart.

you asked jay if he can take care of your cat along with your dad’s cats with you. he said yes. unknown to you he was allergic as fuck and that he prepared his anti-allergies and more allergy medicines. he started to sneeze after an hour, running to your bathroom with his bag until one of the medicines fall off his bag and you saw.

“jay,” you softly sigh. “it doesn’t matter. i love you no matter what. it’s especially not worth it if you’re going to be hospitalized every damn time!”

“but—“

“no.”

jay frowns and you sigh. “i appreciate it, okay? i really do, jay. it’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, but don’t do it again, okay?” you say and jay sighs.

“you’re not breaking up with—“

“oh my god.” you say and he sheepishly chuckles. “nothing will ever make me breakup with you, okay?” 

“okay.” he softly says. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you smile.

you really do.

— rbs, likes and feedback are highly appreciated !! drop a hi in my inbox if u want <3

#i ghosted i know HEHEHEH this is insanely...... self-indulgent lmao i'll reply on the asks later i just dropped by bcs idk wtf to do on my #current task lmao here i am anywaysssss #i just...... idk i feel like jay would do this he's so pure and oh my god i love him #Hiraya-M #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #jay imagines #jay reactions #jay scenarios #jay fluff #jay x reader #jongseong imagines

[thesylverlining]

Might be spite-writing baby's first Disco Elysium fanfic

Because a bitch (me, I'm bitch) saw one too many things that slimmed Harry down (presented as an unambiguous Good Thing) so I had to write Kim adoring his belly before I turned into the got dang Joker

#this is my supervillain origin story #also kim is trans. because. #disco elysium #it was meant to be pure fluff but oop there's angst now too #i said 'drabble' and god help me it's 2k already #it's like day 5 of shark week so i wenT Fuck It and engaged in SELF INDULGENCE

[cheolism]

how to get rid of nightmares

✧ hoshi x reader

✧ summary: you try to deal with your nightmare, but your clingy boyfriend just wants you to return to bed

✧ genre: comfort, fluff.

✧ wc is approx 2.2k

✧ notes: discussion of nightmares. reader takers off their shirt (nonsexual). soonyoung kisses their stomach, shoulder. mentions of a stretchmark on reader's shoulder. warning for mention of soonyoung's abs. this was purely self-indulgent.

You woke with the echoes of your nightmare still fresh in your mind. For a few moments you tried falling back into sleep, forcing your eyes shut. But the dark and cruel images persisted, etched onto the back of your eyelids, so everytime you shut your eyes you couldn’t help but witness them once more. 

Shifting in your boyfriend’s hold, you abandoned all attempts at getting back to sleep. Instead you took in the environment around you -- or the lack thereof. Soonyoung had joined you in bed after you fell asleep, but that didn’t stop him from bringing you into his arms and hugging you tight. He had you trapped in his hold, strong arms keeping you from any real movement. One of his legs was thrown over your thigh, entangled with yours enough to where your lower half was pressed against him just as tightly as your top. 

He shifted, arms tightening against you and bringing you back into his hold. You wriggled, pushing his leg off of you. Soonyoung let out a whine, and still asleep, he shifted so he was on his back. He somehow dragged you with him, so you were half on top of him. 

Ever conscious, you tapped against his bare chest. “Soonyoung, you won’t be able to breathe. Let me go.”

He whined again. One of his hands traveled up your body before settling at the back of your neck. He guided your head to rest against his chest, hand settling over your cheek. 

“Sleep,” he murmured. His voice was thick and rough from sleep, and you couldn’t help but grin against his warm skin. 

“Soonie,” you tried again, hands moving to his sides. You pinched at his skin, not enough to seriously hurt. “Let me go. Need to go to the bathroom.”

He whined. “Noooooo.”

Soonyoung’s grip, however, loosened. You pressed a kiss to his chest, rubbing your hands over his skin, before moving off of him. He continued moaning and whining, his lips forming a pout. “How are you so cute when you’re half asleep, seriously,” you mumbled. It took a moment to untangle yourself from the blanket, it having tangled around your legs when Soonyoung moved the two of you. 

After, you stood up with the blanket in your arms. Soonyoung was watching you, pouting and eyes half-open. He wore just a pair of shorts to bed, the pale moonlight that peaked from around the curtains illuminating his pale skin. You couldn’t help but appreciate him for a moment, from the shadows that casted onto his abs to the firmness of his pecs. 

“Baby,” he whined. 

Then you got to moving, throwing the blanket back over him. You tucked it around Soonyoung, taking care to ensure his feet were beneath the blanket and it covered his shoulders. “There, all warm again.”

Soonyoung immediately ruined your work, pulling the blanket into his arms and turning on his side. “Hurry,” he said. 

Chuckling, you nodded before swooping down and pressing a kiss to his lips. As you moved back his lips puckered in a delayed reaction, and, helpless, you pressed another to his lips. 

Then you left the room, entering the hallway. It was pitch black, so you reached out with one hand and pressed it against the wall to help guide you down it. You cursed a little when you tripped on a random piece of clothing, knowing well enough that you had dropped your shirt in the hallway as soon as you got home. 

You flicked on the light to the bathroom once you reached it, leaving the door open. After doing your business you looked up, gasping when you noticed the half-asleep figure of your boyfriend in the doorway. 

“Soonyoung!” You hissed, embarrassed and trying to will your heart back into a more calming pace. “You’re fucking lucky I’m on the toilet.”

He grinned sleepily. His dark hair was sticking up in odd places, and he smacked his lips a little. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You were taking a long time.”

You shuddered when your hands were met with the freezing water of the sink. You endured it, however. Soonyoung wandered into the bathroom, and he reached over you for the soap. He took it in hand, turning the pump towards you. Obedient, you offered your hands out and grinned as he pumped the soap. 

“What a sweetheart,” you cooed. He laughed breathily, still seemingly more asleep than awake. You continued to wash your hands, watching as he set the soap back onto the counter and walked around you to grab the hand towel. “You gonna dry my hands for me now, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed. Soonyoung wiggled the towel at you, and you offered him your hands after turning off the sink. He paid attention to one hand at a time, ever-gentle as he dried you off. 

He tossed the towel onto the counter once he was done with it. “Bed?”

You led him from the bathroom, reaching around him to flick off the light switch. He grabbed your arm and tugged, trying to lead you back down the hallway. 

“Just a second,” you said, the nightmare flashing through your mind. You weren’t ready to go back into the darkness of your bedroom, with or without Soonyoung. It was unbearable to be in the same physical space as the nightmare. “Gonna get some water.”

“Your water is beside the bed,” he whimpered. You couldn’t see his face but you knew for a fact his lips were probably pushed out in a pout. “Please, baby?”

“Go on without me.” You slid your arm through his hand, grabbing it in yours. You then guided his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

You released his hand, but immediately your hand was grasped once again. Soonyoung’s hand squeezed yours, and he muttered something too low for you to fully register. He still led you down the hall and to the kitchen, fingers intertwined with yours. 

He paused in front of the stove, reaching out and flicking the overhead light on. You blinked up at him. He had a soft look on his face, and it was almost unbearable how much adoration you felt for him. 

With the hand not trapped in his, you reached up and ruffled his hair. He giggled, low and sweet, as you ran your fingers through his short strands. Somehow Soonyoung’s cheeks looked particularly full in the dull light, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to let your hand wander from his hair to his cheek, cupping it softly. 

“My baby boy,” you cooed, smiling. He was grinning, silly and in love. “You’re so cute.”

“And tired,” he said. 

You laughed. “I’ll hurry, then.”

You went to the fridge, Soonyoung clinging to you like a shadow. His hands went to your waist, settling there and squeezing. You hummed a little, and he took it as a signal to continue. He pressed himself against your back, digging his chin into your shoulder. 

“Baby,” he said, shifting to press his face into your neck. “You’re all sweaty.”

You paused for a moment before reaching out, grabbing the Brita pitcher. It didn’t have enough to fill a cup, and you knew it was probably because Soonyoung, who seemed to be under the ridiculous impression that the Brita pitcher refiled itself, only refilled it when you were in the same room as him. 

Well, you thought, it could be worse. He could leave his stinky gym socks on the couch or table. 

“I just had a bad dream,” you said. You shuffled back, leading Soonyoung to the counter. He moved one of his hands from your waist to push the refrigerator door shut before returning it to, as he would say, its ‘rightful position’. 

“What was it about?”

The scenes replied in your mind, and you set the pitcher onto the counter with a little more force than necessary. Soonyoung molded himself against your back again. “I don’t remember it.”

“Bullshit,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You remember every dream you ever have.”

You sighed. You reached over to the dishrack and grabbed a cup. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Soonyoung.”

“That’s okay, baby,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to your neck before pausing. “You don’t have to talk about your bad dream, but I feel like as your boyfriend I should tell you that you smell like sweat.”

“Not flowers?”

He was quiet for a moment. In lue of actually speaking, Soonyoung reached around you and grabbed the pitcher. You held the cup in place as he poured, and sure enough, it only filled up the cup to the halfway point. 

Soonyoung moved from you, though he kept one hand on the small of your back. He turned on the sink and lifted up the lid of the pitcher, filling it. You took a drink from the cup, turning to lean back against the counter. Soonyoung bracketed you, his bare feet lining up with yours, hands going to brace on either side. 

“I’m sorry you’ve got so many nightmares,” he said. His dark brow was furrowed, lips in a frown. “I hate it.”

Taking a drink of water, you shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to them by now. Just used to always feeling tired.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.” You raised the cup, and he leaned forward. You pressed the rim of the cup to his lips and, slowly, lifted it so he could drink without the water spilling on him. “You know, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have bad dreams or insomnia.”

Soonyoung licked his lips after you removed the cup. “I hate it. I hate it so fucking much. You don’t deserve that, baby. You deserve good dreams of puppies and kitties and --”

“-- and you?” You teased, grinning. You set the cup beside you on the counter. “It’s okay, Soonie. It’s just part of my life, sweetheart.”

He sighed, tipping his forehead against yours. Soonyoung’s eyes slipped shut. “I know. You know whenever you have bad dreams I’ll always be there to help you after, right?”

Your eyes feel shut, reaching out and looping your arms around his neck. He pressed closer, nuzzling his face against yours and wrapping his arms around you. “I know, Soonie. I know.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Now. Bed?”

You laughed, nodding. “Bed.”

He pulled away, returning your smile. He kept his arms around you, leading you from the kitchen. The two of you were so close together, neither quite willing to release the other, that you kept stumbling against him. 

Soonyoung happily accepted your weight, giggling. “Never stopped falling for me, huh?”

“Never.”

“That’s because you love me,” he sang, pulling you into the room. You could see his smile due to the moonlight filtering through, and somehow the room didn’t seem so dark with his smile. “You looooooooove me.”

You separated from him, pushing Soonyoung back onto the bed. He went willingly, still grinning. Soonyoung shuffled up the bed, pulling the covers back. 

Hands going to the hem of your shirt, you peeled it off. The collar was still wet, and Soonyoung yet out a shout of appraisal as you threw it across the room and towards the hamper. It missed, of course, and fell against the wall. Eh; you would get it tomorrow. 

Soonyoung was watching you, a soft grin on his face. When his eyes caught yours he outstretched his arms, wiggling his fingers at you. 

You went willingly, and when you were close enough he slid his hands over your bare skin. He pulled you to him, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Soonyoung pulled you onto the bed, hands sliding over your skin as he guided you to lay down. 

Soonyoung pressed a kiss to your shoulder, over one of the stretchmarks there. He grabbed the blanket and tossed it about before tucking it around the two of you. He pressed his body to yours, the bare skin of his torso warm against yours. You hummed, loving the feel of his bare arms against your skin. You smoothed your hands over his biceps, and when he flexed them teasingly you buried your smile into his chest. 

This time you were awake to witness Soonyoung thoroughly entangling the two of you together. He tossed one of his legs over both of yours, capturing your lower half; he guided your head to rest on his arm, his other arm moving so he could trace shapes on the back of your bare back. 

“There,” he said, sighing softly. “Back where we belong.”

You let out a soft giggle. His arm around you tightened, and Soonyoung scooted closer so he could guide your face to rest against his neck. 

Soonyoung pressed a kiss to your forehead. He spoke in a soft voice, still close enough to where you could feel his lips move against your face. “Now. You listen here, Y/n’s brain. Give them a break. It’s time to sleep, and I’ll have no more of you bullying them. Okay? I love them, and they don’t need you bothering them all the time.”

It seemed as if Soonyoung had mastery over both your heart and brain, for you had no more nightmares for the rest of the night. 

#!! #this is purely indulgent #my writing #svt #seventeen #hoshi #svt hoshi #hoshi fic #hoshi scenario #hoshi oneshot #svt fic #svt oneshot #svt scenario #kwon soonyoung #svt soonyoung #svt fluff #svt comfort

[yeosangs-horizon]

Slow Mornings (Rei x Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1k Content Warning(s): Mentions of Anxiety & PTSD

You stirred in your sleep as you heard the tapping of the rain against the washroom window. You felt your lover behind you shift as he held you closer to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The tub was large enough to fit the two of you, it wasn’t comfortable but not uncomfortable by all means. You much rather have preferred a bed but in Rei’s state from last night, he wouldn’t have been comfortable and you would rather sacrifice comfort to keep him feeling safe.

Last night was pretty rough, you were sitting next to Rei in the tub as he held his head down, trying to suppress the anxious thoughts that were coming to mind, triggered by his past. You sat there stroking his back and rubbing his shoulder, telling him it was going to be okay. He was never vocal when it came to dealing with his PTSD, he only recently allowed you to stay by his side when he was feeling this way and you two had been together for over a year. He trusted you to take care of him and be there as someone he could lean on. “Baby it’s going to be okay, he’s unable to hurt you anymore. I’m here…” you whispered, trying your best to soothe his aching mind. It was the first time that you saw a tear slip from his eye and it glistened against the moonlight. He let you lace your fingers with his and leaned against your figure. “Deep breaths Rei, deep breaths.” He did as he was told to stabilize his breathing. “You can rest now, I promise everything will be okay.” He let himself go, the haze that clouded his mind slowly slip away as he fell against your shoulder with exhaustion. You softly placed a kiss on his forehead whilst wiping the tear away from his soft pale cheek. “You deserve so much love Rei… I love you.” You covered him with a blanket and settled beside him, trying to get comfortable in the multitude of pillows that were in the tub that he placed down for you. 

You focused on the pitter patter of the rain against the washroom window as you knew this was going to be a slow morning. You knew that Kazuki and Rei had the day off, meaning Rei could slumber for as long as he wanted to to recover from last night’s events. You shifted a bit to turn yourself around to face your lover. You stared at his peaceful sleeping figure, wondering if his nightmares and anxiety subsided. You hoped that you had given him enough comfort to get a good nights rest at the very least. You placed a hand on his cheek and admired his beauty. His stone cold stare that he gave most people softened once he saw you and during his slumber. ‘Cute…’ you thought. 

You smelled the scent of fresh eggs and potatoes wafting through the bottom of the door as your stomach grumbled. Kazuki must be cooking breakfast for Miri, your thoughts were confirmed by muffled high pitched laughter and mumbling beyond the washroom door. You looked back at Rei, feeling guilty that you were a bit hungry and wanted to go snag a bite of food but also didn’t want to leave his side. You pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and whispered, “Be right back.” Just as you were able to untangle yourself from his arms, you rose from the tub, trying to maintain your balance. Just as you were about to step out of the tub, you felt a hand grasp at your wrist. “(Y/N), stay…,” he mumbled. Who were you to go against his cute groggy voice. With his eyes still closed, he gently held you close to him and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you… for last night.” 

You hummed in approval. “Of course Rei, I’m here. I’m not leaving your side. You feeling better though?” You saw a small smile form in his face before his eyes opened just a bit to gaze upon your face. “Yeah…” Even after a year of being together, he still got flustered at the sight of you and your beauty, but he loved to stare at you and admire you. You pulled him in for another heartwarming kiss as he relaxed into your touch. “Hope the tub wasn’t too hard for you to sleep in…” he mumbled after you pulled away. “It was fine, I know it’s hard for you to sleep elsewhere during tough times like last night.” “I’m so lucky to have you…” he confessed. 

You leaned it and peppered kisses down his cheek and neck. It took him awhile to get used to your touch but he learned to love it and even to this day, he still got butterflies in his stomach when you kiss him like that. The two of you didn’t share your first kiss till 6 months into the relationship. He never even thought that he was capable of loving, much less being loved, but your demeanor and personality kept him captivated. The first time you held his hand it felt foreign to him, but he felt safe and slowly he learned that it felt right. He loved your touch, it made him feel at home. He loved slow mornings like these when mostly everything was peaceful and quiet and he could have you all to himself. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes again with a smile that only you could see. 

Everything being peaceful would have entailed the door not being knocked on and door handle being jiggled with high pitched giggles outside. “Rei Papa! Come eat with me and Kazuki Papa! (Y/N) too! I’m gonna eat all the pudding if you don’t hurry!”

“We’re sleeping!” Rei yelled out in annoyance as he rested his head on top of yours again with his eyes closed. 

#rei suwa x reader #rei suwa imagine #rei suwa fluff #rei suwa #buddy daddies x reader #buddy daddies imagine #buddy daddies #buddy daddy #rei suwa x you #buddy daddies x you #kal writes #ghoulpixels #i love him so much #this was purely self indulgent please enjoy

[hoenoredone]

MISHAPS – gojo satoru

contents: satoru comes home after a gruelling day at work to his house looking like it was traversed by a hurricane. tags: sfw, fluff, enstablished relationship, parenting is hard, gojoxfem!reader, non sorcerer au, married au, megumi and tsumiki are gojo's biological children - i don't make the rules, very domestic, sort of traditional gender roles?

no way in hell gojo was going back to work tomorow, not after the absolute mess of a calendar his secretary had left him with. meetings and conferences back to back, he had barely had any time to take a single bite out of the lunch you had prepared for him the day before. gojo had made it through the day by only relying on pure spite against his secretary – yes, he was still seething – and the thought of coming home to his wife and kids.

as he exited his car he could already hear tsumiki's laughter through the open kitchen window and your gentle redirection for what he could only assume was an attempt at teaching the kids some independence by having them make dinner with you. if he had to be honest, gojo did think it was a little early for them to hold a knife – even if it was barely able to be considered one, seeing how it was completely blunt ceramic – tsumiki being six and megumi being almost three, but ultimately you knew best considering all of the parenting books you had devoured in the last seven years. not that he hadn't put in any effort at all – he had actually spent several nights studying to prepare –, he simply did not want to see his kids grow up so soon.

"no, tsumiki, that's sugar!" gojo hears you hurriedly yell at your daughter, and he can't help but chuckle at the horror in our voice. you must be too busy trying to fix your little one's mishap to hear him enter your home, because once he crosses the threshold and removes his coat, the only one to greet him is a tired looking megumi.

"hi, daddy," the boy says between a yawn and a clumsy stumble towards his father, and gojo's heart couldn't be fuller than in that moment.

"hey there, little man," he whispers to his son as he picks him up and lays him on his shoulder, "how's mommy doing?"

gojo only receives a mumble and a nuzzle as a response. he tries to make his way to the kitchen holding megumi with a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, however he has to skip and hop every couple of steps over some forgotten toys and books scattered on the living room floor.

once he reaches the kitchen he can't help but stand back and observe the barely controlled chaos of the stove. sink full of utensils, table stacked with bowls he can only assume had been taken out of the dishwasher when it hadn't finished yet, givien the water droplets falling on the wood, and his two favorite ladies hunched over the stove.

"okay, no- that's okay, actually! tomato sauce always calls for a pinch of sugar," you say as you lift tsumiki off of the stepping stool in front of the stove and step in to add some freshly picked basil – you had insisted on having some potted herbs on the windowsill – and a generous amount of salt.

"wait, why, mommy?" your daughter asks jumping up to try and see the pot.

"why what, baby? the sugar?" you ask before tasting the sauce and barely holding back the look of surprise that paints your face. it must have turned out fairly decent, in the end.

tsumiki nods enthusiastically.

"ah," you step aside and let her climb back on the stepping stool, "it's to cut the acidity of the tomatoes. you could use some milk too, but we don't because we don't want daddy's tummy to feel upset."

"we all have our flaws," gojo says while repositioning megumi on his shoulder, and he swears he sees all of the cogs in your brain work at lightning speed to make the split second decision to hide tsumiki behind you and grab the nearest knife on your counter before you realize it's just your husband talking.

his arms ache from his son's weight, his back is in knots from sitting at his desk all day, and his heart is so, so full of love.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #married au #non sorcerer au #fluff #oneshot #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #yes i've made him lactose intolerant . sue me #pure indulgence

[lightvixxen]

Eddie munson x insecure!bestfriend!reader

A/n:This is purely self-indulgent bc I needed some comfort lolz, also major vent post and its kinda personal bc this is actual stuff from my own vents lol, but I just needed to write Eddie comfort and ik there’s some plus sized ppl who feel the same<3

Warnings: degrading language(not the fun kind), insecurity, reader calls themselves names in their diary, negative self-talk,reader willing gets into a toxic arrangement, fluff…so much fluff, best friends to lovers, small angst but its hurt/comfort, small mentions of violence, Eddie just wants to harm the ppl that hurt you.

Summary: Eddie reads ur diary and need to show just how fucking wrong u are abt yourself.

Eddie had been in your room countless times, though this time, he was on a fucking mission. He had managed to convince you to go downstairs alone to grab some drinks, and he prayed it kept you occupied long enough for him to snoop.

You had been down the past few days and he needed to know why, unfortunately for him, you kept your mouth shut on your feelings, opting to change the subject every time he asked. Luckily for him though, you wrote down everything in a small blue notebook. Eddie grabbed the notebook out of its hiding place, flipping through its pages, he knew this was an invasion of privacy but damn it he was worried, sue him.

He stopped, finally coming to the most recent page, which had everything he needed to know.

September 19, 1987.

So, I went back to him…and I know what your thinking “why would you go back to someone who uses you?!”

Eddie already knew who and what you were talking about, had spent countless nights staying up with you as you sobbed into his shoulder about the boy who would never return your feelings and played you consistently. And spent countless nights fighting the urge to grab a fucking bat to go kill the son of a bitch. But he reads on.

Well, I’ll tell you, it’s because its what I think I deserve. I’ve kinda accepted my fate to the “fuckable but not datable” Role of my life. After all no one wants a fat ugly whore hanging off their arm.

God- Eddie wanted to both punch and hug you, you were absolutely perfect and beautiful, words couldn’t describe how much he wanted you. How much he wanted you hanging off his arm, contrary to your belief- you weren’t ugly, sure you were bigger than all the other girls, but that just meant more to love! He wanted to worship every part of your body. To show you off, show all the fuckers who said those nasty things to you what they were missing. And for fucks sake, you saw yourself as a whore?! You barely slept with anyone, and the people you did sleep with you had known for years!

I just- I just want someone to actually care, want someone to tell me they love me and mean it.

Eddie loved you, He loved you so fucking much even he, himself couldn’t believe it. He looked at you with so much adoration and love it was unbelievable how oblivious you were to him.

Nobody wants a nerd, no one wants a plus sized- or well fat, Plus size is only for the pretty ones, that of which I am not. Also no one wants baggage, or someone who’s clingy if they say they do they’re lying. Or i would have someone, pretty sure no one in this school would touch me with a 10ft pole. Lol jealous of the people who are wanted.

The entry ends and Eddie wants to cry, he hated the fact you talked about yourself like that. He wanted everything about you, he was fucking crazy over you. He wished he could make you see yourself the way he saw you. Because fuck- you were a goddess to him. He worships the fucking ground you walk on. He wanted to take you out on sappy dates, and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Not the way you’ve been treated by your exes, he hated how they treated you like a fucking toy.

Eddie heard your heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs, he didn’t bother putting your diary away. He was going to shoot his fucking shot because damn it if that’s how you’ve been feeling he wanted to show you how fucking wrong you were.

“Okay I finally got- Eds…what the fuck?!” You almost dropped the two cans, seeing your best friend with your diary. It’s obvious he had read it, so fucking obvious in the way he was staring at you.

Eddie didn’t say anything as he gently closed the notebook. Didn’t say anything as he slowly got up from your bed. You thought he was going to run out, tell you everything you had thought was true, that this was the end to your friendship with Eddie. Instead, he crossed the room, walking towards you and before you knew it he was pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“E-Eddie?!” You squeaked, arms hanging loosely at your sides. “God- your so fucking stupid you know that?! You talk so fucking negatively about yourself, while your oblivious to the way I look at you!” You were stunned, you couldn’t tell if he was comforting you or not.

But he continued, “you’re so fucking beautiful, and pretty and so fucking amazing, I want you to be the one hanging off my arm. Fuck- sweetheart I want everything about you.” Your face fell, more than it already could. You had heard that phrase so many times, and it only landed you being stranded in your sheets.

“Eddie- c’mon don’t play like that.” You murmured, even with the way he was hugging you, you couldn’t believe someone could ever want you outside of sex. “I’m not fucking playing!” He pulled back from you, a firm grip on your shoulders, he wanted to shake you until you realized he was telling the truth. “Sweetheart, I love you genuinely, every time- every single fucking time, you mention someone hurt you, or someone used you. I’ve had to fight the urge to kill a motherfucker for making you think like that.”

Tears slowly well up in your eyes. You knew Eddie, he didn’t joke about that kind of shit. Not after what happened last year. “Sweetheart-“ Eddie wiped your tears, “you don’t know how much I love you, I worship the fucking ground you walk on, I’ve written stupid love songs about how much I want you.” His eyes are locked on yours, letting you know just how serious he is about this. “You literally consume my every thought, all I think about is what your doing, what you feel, The way you laugh, the way you smile-“ Eddie hugged you once again. “God if I knew that’s what you were feeling I would’ve told you this ages ago, but…I’m absolutely crazy about you.”

And with that he kissed you, it was slow, passionate, letting you know just how much he meant every word. Every-time you tried to make it heated, tried to deepen the kiss he would pull away. He wasn’t gonna let your stupid insecurities and thoughts ruin the image you have of him.

#eddie munson #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #small angst #purely self indulgent #eddie munson x you #best friend! eddie #best friend! eddie munson #kinda protective!Eddie #protective!Eddie

[wonwoonlight]

[08:20]

Notes: it's 8AM and I'm a Wonwoo simp // fluff i guess // slice of life // literally nothing happens // gah I miss writing short ones like this // literally I saw a Wonwoo gif and was like. Ok i need to write. // this is written in like 15 mins so.

Wonwoo isn't your typical handsome guy.

He's not the kind of handsome that everyone would agree on, but he definitely attracts attention and, while you would often tease him about it, you don't always know how to deal with so many eyes turning to him when he passes by.

Or when he's seated in silent next to you.

"What?" You blink, confused, and Wonwoo smiles through his nose before settling the camera on his lap. "You've been staring. Is there something on my face?"

"Just..." Should you be honest? Wonwoo stares back, fixing his glasses that slides down from the sudden movement. "Mmm... Just that... there are so many eyes."

He tilts his head, not getting it.

"So many people are looking at you," you breath slowly, unsure how Wonwoo will take it. You're not jealous, but it does stir something within you though you don't know how to say it without sounding stupid.

He stays silent, trying to gather your tone. As if on cue, he hears some giggles passing by and when he looks up, the girls got startled at the eye contact and scuried away when he doesn't return their smile.

"Don't mind them." He settles, shrugs his shoulders, and gets back to his camera. He glances at you one last time and then back to his viewfinder to hide his smile behind the lens. "I only have eyes for you, anyway."

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabble #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo imagines #perhaps i shud start posting random script like this again #not tagging any networks because this is Purely my indulgence #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios

[kennedy-brooke]

i promise I’m working on something guys, i just want to have more than one part done and it’s all yours. pcd is a great motivator (the title might change so don’t count on it)

#the 1975 #ross macdonald #ross macdonald fanfic #ross x reader #ross the 1975 #ross macdonald the 1975 #it’s pure fluff #very self indulgent #definitely smut in later parts