#anyway it's a little tiny tired drabble

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby

- gojo satoru x reader

a domestic life with your husband and baby

genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo

note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫

and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here

general masterlist

Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.

"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.

And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.

He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.

"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.

"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.

"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.

Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.

"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.

Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"

Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.

"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."

"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."

"...A lot of bad things."

"Heh, is that so?"

The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.

"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."

Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."

He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.

"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."

"Hmph."

"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"

The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.

Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.

This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?

Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”

He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.

“He is so… defenseless.”

“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”

Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.

“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.

Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.

“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”

[celestie0]

I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad

gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]

little miracle. a gojo x reader story

a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k

gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.

fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?

in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.

there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.

the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.

father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.

keeping it, was what you had told him next.

it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.

yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.

oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?

the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.

it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and you realize we all die someday. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.

when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.

you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.

gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.

gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.

he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.

and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.

the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.

there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.

but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[seonghwaddict]

one more minute — choi san

in which you indulge in some midnight snacks and kisses in the kitchen.

bf!choi san x fem!reader. genre. established relationship. fluff. warnings. a little, tiny make out sesh but nothing else. wc. 0.6k.

lilo's notes. i’m a little sick so updates on both the event and nsn will be a bit slow. but anyways, here’s a little san drabble i wrote at 3 am :>

listening to. rises the moon, liana flores.

masterlist.

your eyes fluttered open to be met with darkness, the first thing you noticed was the arm draped around your waist. turning your head to look behind you, you caught sight of your dear boyfriend, san, sleeping soundly, his face lit by the dim moonlight seeping in through the gaps in the curtains.

silent snores left his mouth and you smiled, wondering how on earth you were lucky enough to call this perfect man yours. but the silent moment of admiring him was ruined when your stomach grumbled quietly, reminding you what you woke up for. after taking one last look at san and pressing a light kiss to his forehead, you wiggled yourself out of his grip without waking him up and walked down to the kitchen for some food.

you grabbed a paper plate and put a slice of pizza from the night before on it, placing it in the microwave. then you grabbed a mug, filled it with water and set it next to the paper plate before closing the microwave's door, pressing some buttons and starting it up.

a familiar arm wrapped around your waist from the back as san’s other arm brushed your hair away from your neck, nuzzling his face into it as he dropped the hand to wrap it around your waist as well. he placed gentle pecks on your neck and shoulder, nudging the fabric of your neckline to the side to access as much of your soft skin as possible.

you chuckled and turned your face to the side, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones. without averting your eyes, you turned in his grip and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug. he smelled faintly of peppermint and the shampoo you keep in your bathroom.

you pulled away from each other and he moved his fingertips under your shirt, his knuckles brushing against your sides. his touch sent sparks and goosebumps travelling through your whole body, a feeling you were well acquainted with.

“i love you," he whispered, lips brushing against yours.

you smiled, muttering a heartfelt, "i love you, too."

he leaned his face in and your lips connected in a kiss, moving in a slow and synchronised rhythm, lips slotting together like perfect puzzle pieces. instinctively, your hands travelled up and tangled themselves in his already messy chestnut locks of hair. his grip on your waist tightened, trying to close every remaining millimetre of space between your bodies.

he bit down on your bottom lip, his hands simultaneously gliding up and down your waist, fingertips brushing just beneath your breasts before dropping to your hips and squeezing twice. knowing what that meant with him, you jumped up and warped your legs around his torso, his firm hands supporting you under your thighs. as if you had done this multiple times before—which you have—he turned and set you on the empty counter behind him, standing between your legs.

you continued, your kisses turning desperate and bruising. but before he could take it any further, the microwave's timer rang and you pulled away with a mischievous smile and flushed cheeks. your boyfriend groaned as you inched your way around him and got off the counter to grab your food.

"baby," he whined, drawing out the last syllable, "just… one more minute?"

"i don't want my food to get cold," you laughed and took a bite of the pizza, a playful pout on your lips. "you’re very needy when you're tired."

"at least give me some of the pizza?"

you considered it for a moment before turning and walking to the living room with a broad grin. "i’m not your mom, you can get it yourself, love," you called over her shoulder, resisting the urge to giggly at his dumbfounded expression.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

[shurisneakers]

paper man

warnings: angst, no sad ending, talks of death. unedited drabble that was written in 20 minutes.

a/n: i wanted angst and couldn't find any so i did this myself. will this make it onto my masterlist? who knows. it's 11pm and i have mary by big thief playing. my cat is yelling at me and really killing the sad girl vibe i got going. why does bucky look like a used car salesman in thunderbolts. whatever. love u guys

word count: 660

“If I die tomorrow,” he starts, eyes still staring into the TV.

Your eyebrow quirks. “You're not going to die tomorrow. We're going bowling.”

“If I die tomorrow,” Bucky repeats, and you know he's not with you. He's wandering around the morning fog and thickets of his mind, arm stuck out while he meanders inside a labyrinth.

It's late. He's right on time. You know from experience that his thoughts don't belong to him after the sun sets.

“I–” he begins, and then his mouth clamps shut again.

From across the couch, you shoot him a glance that hopefully conveys understanding. Fast food wrappers litter the worn leather, hurdles between the both of you.

“I don't have a will,” he finally manages to get out.

You let out an exhale, soft.

“Let's make one now?” you offer.

Through his mist, he looks at you. Eyes the way it would be if you tried staring into the sun. Mouth tired, shoulders so low it sinks into dirt.

“I'll write it on my phone. We can do something about it in the morning,” you continue.

Bucky turns back to the TV, and the mindless chatter of late night commercials fills in the silence you leave in your wake.

He could die tomorrow. So could you. So could everyone you knew. It was an occupational hazard you thought he'd made his peace with.

Your phone lies beside you, and you're honestly a little embarrassed that your suggestion was shot down.

Most days you don't know what he needs. Admittedly, he doesn't either. Sometimes slow kisses with his back pressed up against the headboard does the trick. Other days….well, you don't know. He never lets you see those.

You can't blame him. What you both had with each other found a description in the quiet and the twilight. You hadn't even really spent the night in his room.

“I don't have anythin’ to leave,” his voice comes out like gravel, snapping you out of the pit you wanted to dig yourself. “That's the thing. If I die tomorrow, I don't have anythin' to my name. Nothin’ that matters anyway.”

His gaze shifts downward ever so slightly. If the TV wasn't illuminating his face in a pale sickly yellow, you'd see that his cheeks were burning red. His throat feels like it's folded in on itself.

“You got people to leave things for?” you ask, watching him keenly.

He catches your eye, sending a jolt through you. You shift awkwardly on the couch.

“Think so,” he says solemnly. It reads more like a question, with the way he observes you.

“Okay.” You nod. “Then we'll find you things.”

His eyebrows knit together, deepening the crease between them.

“I don't know where to start.” His words sound raw, like a croak.

You watch his head duck again. His body is stiff, and he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.

You look around the room, but your eyes land on the paper remains of your dinner. A thought crossed your mind, and you hesitate.

Bucky is too busy trying to see through thick trees and fog. It stretches above him so tall, taking away even what little sunlight crawls through the leaves.

The couch dips next to him and he's snapped out his labyrinth for a second.

Your hand is held out for his. It comes so naturally that he doesn't even remember stretching his palm out to meet yours.

You drop a tiny paper man onto his metal hand. It's twisted together from a napkin and its mangled limbs are uneven.

“Just a place to start,” you tell him softly.

Bucky stares at it while you inch back to your place.

While you shift the channel to something less repetitive and tedious, his fingers wrap around the origami project.

The fog fades in the light of the morning. The trees look a little less daunting.

He's got people to leave things for.

And a tiny paper man.

[hioriri]

-twins-

featured character ☆ itoshi rin (rin is over 18, so is reader.) 

tag(s): fluff! ☆

divider @cafekitsune

just imagining rin as a father 🥹

        Rin was in standing front of the two twins, Ritsu and Aya, whom were sitting together on their highchair and had just finished eating. The two probably played with their food, since their faces and small hands were covered in sweet mashed potato. You were in the kitchen, preparing to cut some fruits for your two beloved toddlers. Now, perhaps Rin was feeling a little jealous since Aya and Ritsu both said "Mama" first. Somehow, Aya started saying "Mama" first but sooner than later, Ritsu also started saying "Mama". Rin tried his best not to show it, but deep down, even you knew he was a little envious. Although you had tried to get the twins to say "Dada" they were far too stubborn and would often just speak gibberish.  

        "Mama!" Aya called out randomly. "Yes, baby?" you reply "Mamaaaa!" Aya screamed. Whilst Aya was screaming and laughing, Rin happened to get Ritsu's attention. "Say 'dada'" "Ma...ma" Ritsu proceeded to utter out. Rin sighed, then smiled. "No, say 'dada'." "Mama!" the two of them giggled. Ritsu was sticking out his two tiny hands in front of Rin, surely it was a sign of something. Rin's right hand approached towards Ritsu, and he happily held onto Rin's index finger tightly, with two of his small hands and smiled. Out of the blue, he started bursting into tears and wailed "Mamaaaaa!!" Rin tried his best to calm him down by grabbing a turquoise bunny and waving it towards Ritsu, he smiled again. Sure, it stopped his tears for a few minutes, until Aya started to whine and kick and cry, and of course, was soon joined by Ritsu once more. Rin was panicking, he had no idea how to calm them down and he knows the two of them absolutely hate pacifiers. After their hearing troubled wails, you quickly rushed to the dining table. The moment the twins saw you, they just stopped their tears in an instant. The expression on Rin's face was just in shock, it was a little funny.

        You head back to the kitchen when the twins calmed down and gave them both a bowl with berries in it. Aya kept squashing the blueberries with her fingers, (perhaps she doesn't like them very much), and Ritsu just stared at her, laughing. Suddenly, Aya slowly looked up. She kept staring at Rin and finally uttered out a word. "Da...Da!" you looked at Rin with a smile, "She finally said it!" you exclaim and at the same time, clapping your hands together. A smile creeped up on Rin's face. "You said it!" At last, when the two of them finished their bowl of berries and after Aya squashing all of the blueberries, they were both tired and almost dozed off. You and Rin carried your adorable toddlers to their bed so they could sleep. Ritsu, who was still a little more awake than his sister, said one word; "Da." 

༊*·˚ 

        As soon as the two of you tucked them in, they were sleeping soundly. You hugged Rin tightly for a long period of time, and gave him a peck on the cheeks. "I love you, Rin." "I love you too." You and him both quickly fell asleep afterwards. \

omg, just imagining this had me giggling so much. anyways, i hope you enjoyed this short drabble.

-fuyuko

©fuyukohasnocreativity do not copy, repost, or translate. likes and reblogs are accepted and appreciated!

[cx-boxbox]

Since Ao3 is down and I'm tired of seeing drama on my dash, here's a short drabble (~400 words) I wrote a while ago in a sprint with @nyoomfruits inspired by the prompt:

“Everytime I touch you, it feels like a personal challenge to stop again.”

“You’re staring.”

Oscar hums, not even bothering to deny it. “Yeah?”

“If you have something to say, just say it, mate,” Lando tells him. He tucks himself into a tiny ball on the couch and sighs. “Just tell me that I should’ve won, but instead, I was too stupid, incapable, incompetent to. Again. Bottled it. Again. Fuck, that’s what everyone else thinks anyway.”

Oscar slowly scoots closer to Lando, approaching him like he’s a skittish cat that’ll run away from him as soon as he gets close. As expected, Lando flinches and finally looks at him.

“That’s not what you want, though,” Oscar says, confident in his perception of his teammate. Friend? “You’re too hard on yourself.”

Lando doesn’t say anything.

It’s difficult to read him at the best of times, but his limpid eyes contradict his words.

“You think you know me so well.”

“Well, maybe not, but-”

Ignoring the feelings swirling around inside, Oscar finishes his statement by pulling his teammate in for a hug, wrapping his arms around him tightly. And perhaps he does have a better read on Lando than he assumed because Lando immediately melts into him, curling into his warmth.

Oscar squeezes him tightly as goosebumps rise on his neck where Lando shakily breathes against him. He buries his nose in Lando’s curls, hoping he doesn’t notice the little kiss he drops into them.

Neither of them seem to want to let go, and that’s okay. The team can spare another moment.

“We only hug after podiums, Oscar,” Lando points out, when he finally detaches himself from Oscar’s arms. He doesn’t go far, even if he is a little tentative to remain close.

Oscar lifts an eyebrow. “You got a podium, didn’t you?”

“Still-”

“And I placed seventh, so even if you didn’t win or get a podium, I’d still hug you. It’s not transactional, y’know.”

Oscar doesn’t want to say that getting to hug Lando is like his own reward—or punishment—even when he’s not deserving of it. Staring at him is one thing, but hugging? Touching him?

That’s another thing entirely.

“Ask for a hug anytime,” he says, because he loves torturing himself like this. “I’ll give it to you.”

Lando looks at him.

“What about a kiss?”

[amywritesthings]

Hi babe! Congrats for one year of Silver Underground! 🎶

I was wondering if you could write a little Drabble or one shot of James and Levi in the early days of their relationship. Maybe it’s still a secret from Isabelle and Farlan, and they almost get caught…you know…😏

Love you, Bestie!!😘

hello, my dearest Sailor! Your wish is my command. xo

down bad. / levi ackerman x f!reader

word count: 1.3k summary: you and levi secretly make out before furlan/isabel get home. that's it, that's the horny plot. tags: 18+ minors dni! pre-aot timeline, heavy petting, making out, dry humping, mentions of sex, secret relationship, interruptions, set in the silver underground universe credit: @saradika-graphics for dividers

“Huh.”

You hear Levi’s voice echo from the living room as you climb the stairs to your apartment.

The anticipation of a shower after making deals with some of the cretins of the Underground has kept your tired feet propelling forward, onward, until they come to a stop at the mouth of the door.

One after the other, you kick your boots off beside Levi’s discarded pair to pad gently across the wooden floorboards in dark socks.

He reappears from his bedroom with a furrowed expression, brow holding his apprehension.

“They’re not home.” 

He points a thumb behind his shoulder.

The silence corroborates his findings.

By now, Isabel would have launched herself from your shared bedroom proclaiming sorrow without the two of you around. Furlan barely ever left the living room, and there are only so many places he could go in such a cramped space.

As you drag the apartment’s front door closed and locked, you wipe your hands off on your trousers.

“Where could they be?” you inquire. “I thought they were supposed to meet with that one asshole tomorrow.”

“They are. Maybe they went shopping for food,” he suggests, rolling up his white sleeves to the point of his elbow on the right arm. “Furlan owes you anyway.”

“It was one stolen leftover, Levi.”

“Still owes you,” he chides, fixing up his left arm’s sleeves after. “Doesn’t matter.”

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest and stand in the silence.

No one talks.

Someone should, but —

You’re still not used to this — balancing what the hell it means to be James, the friend, and the James that kisses Levi in the shadows.

It’s only been a few times.

A lie — under fifty isn’t a few.

Maybe a hundred, if stolen pecks in passing when you both know the risks qualifies.

At this point, you’ve lost count how many times the two of you have made out. And losing count means that the two of you are prone for mistakes.

(A lack of judgment, if you will.)

Because as soon as it hits — no one’s home — eyes of twin curiosity connect across the room.

At the same moment, at the exact same time, an idea passes telepathically. An argument.

We shouldn’t. 

We never tried in the house. 

We always—

Too late.

He propels towards you with the urgency of losing you and your feet slide against the floorboards with urgency.

Your head tilts and he follows suits, and without an ounce of real thought, his lips claim yours.

Levi’s hands are already trying to open up your shirt, unbuttoning with certainty a starving man wouldn’t have.

You aren’t as controlled — your hands fumble with his vest, angry at the little notches for giving you a problem. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbles against your mouth, his tongue experimentally poking out to flicker against your lower lip.

“But—”

He abandons your lips and kisses the tiny gemstone on your sternum to make you gasp; a sign of worship, leaving an offering to an altar he created.

Obediently your head drops back, too focused on the heat traveling up your collarbone to your neck.

His lips are always so careful, as if somehow if he presses too hard he’ll bruise you. 

It doesn’t matter how many times your hands grip at your hips. 

It doesn’t matter how many times he backs you into a wall—

Or in this case, a table.

Your hips hit the kitchenette table, faltering your stance. His strong hands find purchase on the plush of your thighs.

“Fall back.”

You pull away from the kiss to finally survey those blue-gray eyes, stormy and benevolent all the same.

Both of your chests heave, though yours is half-revealed and there’s a pink hue of a blush crawling across his cheeks to his ears.

“Wait, what?” you ask him in a huff.

He nods once, lifting your legs only a little for emphasis. “You’re not gonna break it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m— there are about a dozen other things I’m worried about,” you shout in a whisper. “I don't give a fuck about the integrity of the table."

"Good," he decides, and leans back in for a kiss.

Your hand blocks his lips from finding yours.

"I wasn't done talking," you say. "The other dozen things, Levi, like when are they going to get—”

“I don’t care,” he rasps, too far gone. “We’ll hear the lock.”

“Will we?”

“Yeah.”

“And if we don’t—”

“I’m covering you.”

“Barely.”

“Enough.”

“But the table—”

"So you do care about the table?"

"Well, no, but if it—"

“Fuck the table, James,” he groans, so unlike him that the arousal shoots to your core.

Timid in the moment, you scoot your rear end to the table’s edge and fall back. His arm catches your back to ease you down, but not without kissing down your throat again to pull a short cry from your lips.

His other hand pulls your thigh with him so he can slot his hips between yours, and you both lose your breath at the heated connection of his hips to yours.

You haven’t gotten that far yet, but you damn well wish you could.

His head lifts from your neck so he can stare at your eyes, stalling for content, as the hand on your thigh lifts it.

There’s nothing hotter than your knee caging in his hip, and his hand keeping it there. Nothing.

“You’re wasting time,” you growl in return, dragging him in from the white collar of his shirt. 

He grunts in appreciation and hovers over you, pleased with himself now that you’re virtually beneath him.

His lips find yours, chin tilting to deepen the action. 

Your moan vibrates against his mouth, causing his hand on your thigh to clench the flesh.

You want everything.

In that moment, you realize you’ll do just about anything if it means you get to have him.

Late night trysts, early morning sparring kisses, midday dry humps—

The best kept secret of your entire life.

His hips experimentally roll against yours, and you both moan — probably louder than you ought to. It doesn’t matter, because it spurs him to try it again. Again, again—

And when your hand boldly reaches for his belt, something clicks.

Not in your brain, but at the door.

Trained ears force Levi off of your body, lips and cheeks equal parts reddened.

He whips his attention to the door, fixing his clothes and clearing his breath.

“Calm it with that key, would you?” he calls, voice a little more gruff than before.

He strides across the room, buying you time to fly off of the table and re-button your shirt in your own bedroom.

When you catch your eye, he mouths sorry — but the shit-eating smirk on his face tells you otherwise.

“We’re trying!” Isabel. Shit. You know that whine anywhere.

Levi’s palm slams against the door frame from the other side. “Give me a sec, I’ll open it.”

“Why?” Furlan. He sounds perplexed more than anything. “I almost had the door—”

“You’re gonna break it,” Levi flatly tells him, before finally opening the door.

When you ‘enter’ the room, Furlan and Isabel pour into the apartment with their arms full of bags and nearly-fresh produce. You yawn, padding barefoot.

“Sorry, took a nap,” you lie, stretching your limbs overhead. “Where were you two again?”

“Shopping!”

They chirp in unison, heading straight for the kitchen.

Your eyes meet Levi’s once more while you rearrange the chain of your necklace.

That smirk hasn’t left his face, even in the face of your friends.

All you respond with is a middle finger, rubbing against your nose.

One of these days—

Narrowly missed today, maybe, but one of these days they’re going to find out.

(And maybe one day it won’t be such a secret.)

[plutolovesyou]

going to the library with girlfriend ellie.

☆: another random, self indulgent af blurb. i love libraries, and ellie, and drabbles, and writing fluffy things for y'all. this one's definitely not my best work, but i really wanted to put a little something out anyway. there's something so healing about writing fluff.

trek, trek, you hear behind you, as you race through the endless sea of tall shelves, the musty scent of old paper filling your nose. like a machine you scan the aisles, picking up book after book excitedly. you open it, read and decide, yes, this one too! the peace of libraries has always brought you comfort, and hallucinating whilst staring at a dead tree reading has always been your favorite activity. but you’ve run out of things to read which warranted yet another trip to the greatest place on earth. unfortunately for her, you've tasked ellie to be the carrier of all the novels.

"baaaaabe, do you really need this many??" she whines and pouts, as she trails behind you and struggles to keep up.

you turn back to look at her, almost stumbling with a huge stack in her arms which is almost taller than her, it's honestly unbelievable how she hasn't toppled over yet. she frowns at you, earning a chuckle on your part. she's so cute.

"just a little more! you agreed to come with me, els, you knew what you were signing up for. and yes i do need that many, books are my life. books and you, of course."

"but my arms are gonna fall off..." she steadies herself and huffs. "fine, but let's sit down in a few minutes, 'kay?"

grinning widely and and nodding, you take a few of the books from the top to ease the weight, then you skip off happily once more to peruse the shelves, searching for something to grasp your attention, and vaguely convinced you heard ellie tsk-ing behind you. after a bit she goes to sit down on the armchairs in a little corner with a cozy lamp, slumps into the cushions with a grunt, and is relieved she can finally set down the stack she was carrying. you're too absorbed in walking around to notice, but ellie is watching you with a smile from her seat, wondering how in the world she got lucky to have such a curious minded, smart, and loving girlfriend. you meant the world to her. as you scampered around, collecting more and more books, you catch her eye and wave, and her heart just about jumps out of her chest then and there.

when returning to your tired girlfriend, she's keeping herself occupied by checking out the synopses on all the books, with genuine interest.

"i'm back!" you say in a cheery tone, cheeks warming as you add, "may have gone a bit overboard this time, sorry for making you carry it all."

"hey! no, no, i love doing this with you. honest." she smiles warmly back at you, taking half the stack you're carrying in her arms, dividing the entire haul between the two of you. the two of you begin to walk to the desk to check out, until her emerald eyes light up and she remembers, "do they carry comics here?"

"uh, i think so.."

"BE RIGHT BACK-"

she suddenly dashes off with no warning, leaving you with the sighing librarian as she has to take a look to see what they've got.

this little outing turned out better than you had expected. next stop, a hole in the wall cafe for some lunch.

☆: not sure how i feel about this one honestly, but wanted to write a little something. hope y'all still like it! oh also, does the tiny text bother y'all? lemme know and i'll use the regular one, this one's aesthetically pleasing to me, but could be annoying. ellie n her comics own my heart.

[leclsrc]

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy. 

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away. 

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning. 

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.” 

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it. 

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”

[lalacliffthorne]

okay, so, I kinda hadn't planned on doing this; I hadn't even thought about it - whoops 🙈 there was literally just a before and after Azriel and Reader started dating in my head lol

but since so many of you asked and since it would be criminal not to - let's think about it ;)

the one where they stop being idiots 💞

okay, so I see a few ways of how this could go

let's look at two

as hinted in all the before-drabbles --

there have been moments

like

moments

like when either of you stares at the other for too long

or lingers in a hug

or the two of you are somehow always near each other

you get the gist

so we got all those lil moments

piling up, until technically, even an idiot should see that you really like Azriel

and that Azriel -

well, is down very, very bad

which, of course, means you have no clue

okay, so you kinda do

it's hard to ignore the tingling feeling in your belly

and that rising feeling in your chest whenever Azriel just looks at you

but you're very good at pushing that away

bc -

it's not that serious, right?

and even if you catch Azriel staring at you and he never looks away, just gets that twinkle in his eyes

and he always seems to linger a little too long when he's close, helping you with your jacket or brushing away a lash stuck on your cheek

and his gaze flickers down to what you swear is your lips -

there's really no way he actually likes you like that.

let alone feels his breath hitch every time you're close or gets that plummeting feeling in his chest when you as much as brush him

and even if there's some kind of attraction

there's no way that he has fallen for you just the same way you have quietly, creepingly and incredibly hard - fallen for him

...

yeah

since you are friends and living with a bunch of busy bodies

it doesn't take too long until at least one of them gets tired of watching the two of you be, frankly, idiots

maybe it's Rhys

over his not-so-subtle-hints and mischievous smirks, just turning towards you one evening in the kitchen

"alright, love - please tell me you're actually clueless and simply don't see that Az is down ridiculously bad for you?"

or maybe it's Mor

accidentally, literally blurting it out at brunch

something along the lines of "oh, yeah; of course he remembered, he remembers everything, plus he's completely in love with you, so -"

before growing still and becoming more wide-eyed than you have ever seen her

or maybe it's Cassian

after one drink too many, throwing an arm over your shoulder and raising his brows as he rumbles: "look, sweets, I love you. but if I have to watch Az stare longingly at you for another day, I'll lock the two of you in the pantry until you confess that you're completely in love with each other and make out. so, please, put the man out of his misery."

let's face it

it's probably all of them

bc they're just so over seeing Az pine after you and you pine after Az

and if you two would just talk about this -

anyway

you could've waved off one of them with a weak giggle and a "you're seeing things"

but three of your best friends -

who all know Azriel better than anyone else does -

two actually around both of you on a daily basis -

yeah, that's kinda hard to ignore

so suddenly, you start to notice everything

like everything

which makes your heart go into absolute overdrive whenever Azriel just looks at you

suddenly, you can't help but notice every little detail of him

and how he's acting around you

and how he's just insanely, annoyingly beautiful

and it does very strange things to your sanity

because suddenly, there's this tiny little voice in the back of your head that's whispering what if

and bc you can't be around Azriel without feeling heat wash into your cheeks and your breath becoming shaky and heart tumbling -

it's a bit of a mess.

and you really should say something

because it's getting increasingly, ridiculously difficult to keep yourself from leaning up and kissing him whenever he stares at you for too long, that half-crease in his cheek -

but you chicken out every time

and you kinda have a reason for that!

bc you love these boys

and what if something goes wrong and the others are wrong after all and you are wrong and he doesn't actually like you

bc then you would mess things up and you can't risk that and -

yeah

it really is a bit of a mess

well, until

that fateful almost-kiss

(pls don't kill me for the edging)

you're pretty sure it was an almost-kiss

like, 80 %

you turn it over enough in your head to be mostly sure Azriel wasn't just - about to wipe cake of your cheek or smth

just like you turn over the rest of the night you spent in your room with him

curled up on your bed, watching movies

ending with you falling asleep with your head on his chest

bc again

you're about 80 % sure you caught him staring at your lips at least twice

which means -

now

you are really screwed.

bc damn that thing messes with your head

I mean sure

the whole does he feel that tingling attraction too or am I seeing things-problem sorta went out of the window

but still

what if it was just a moment-thing?

or if maybe he doesn't like like you and it's all just physical attraction?

what if it isn't but it still doesn't work out bc at some point Azriel realises that you are actually not chill like he is and instead a lil ball of nerves and quirks??

what.

if.

you're basically quietly stewing in your own thoughts that are slowly getting out of control

and you just get more and more panicked, spinning in circles

until -

you lose it

it's probably a moment when the two of you are alone

maybe you're in the kitchen, responsible for making dinner for a change

and the silence is, at least for you, for once not calm like it always is with Azriel

instead, it feels like the air is buzzing and your heart does weird maneuvers and everytime you just get into close vicinity to Az, you feel like you're about to burst

and somewhere between chopping vegetables and putting cuttlery onto the table

you suddenly end up crowded against the counter

with Azriel towering over you, impossibly close

and he stills when he realises, in the middle of taking plates out of the cabinet, his eyes piercing yours

and your heart is racing because you can feel him

and because it feels like his gaze is pinning you to the spot

and because he's so close

and maybe Az sees something in the way you're staring up at him, wide-eyed and panicked

maybe he even feels the way your breath suddenly flutters

or how your heart is pounding painfully against your ribs

but Azriel slowly, carefully puts down the plate in his hand, placing it on the counter behind you

not once looking away

and then his lips curve a little and you're pretty sure the world lurches at the sight

it always feels like just looking at him causes a knife to twist under your ribs because he's just so damn beautiful

but right now, he looks fucking heavenly

the warm kitchen lights throwing shadows under his jaw, making his cheekbones look even sharper

that barely there crease in his cheek as his gaze slowly drag over your face

and he's tall and all broad shoulders and piercing eyes

and he looks at you the way he did before the almost-kiss

and suddenly

you just cannot keep it in any longer

"So, Mor said you're in love with me?"

The second you blurt out the words, you feel your eyes widen.

Well shit.

Azriel blinks, his lips parting; like maybe, for once, he has not forseen this turn of events.

You wouldn't blame him. You're currently wondering whether looking at him for too long has made your brain short-circuit.

"I mean -" You stare up at him, heat rising into your cheeks while your heart is pounding against your ribs. "I - okay, I didn't mean to say that, I, uhm, I just - thought about that thing that happened the other day; well, almost happened, and uh -" Your voice is actually shaking a bit now and sounds a little like you're about to faint, and that's not that far off, because shit -

"l mean, uhm -" Your throat finally gives up like it has decided to shut you up before you can make things worse.

And that's when you realise Azriel is still staring at you.

Only suddenly his iris looks like molten gold, and his gaze is a little feverish as it darts over your face, deep and heated and like he's trying to drink you in as his lips slowly curve upwards.

"Remind me to get her back for this."

His deep voice sends tingles down your spine, because you have never heard it this low and hoarse before, and it takes you a moment until the meaning of the mumbled words reaches you.

Your lips part, and suddenly, your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

"Get her back for what?" Your whisper is so breathless, you almost swallow it.

There are creases in Azriel's cheek that make your knees feel like jello as he stares down at you, something feverish and heated in his eyes when he mumbles hoarsely: "For telling you before I could."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart does one huge jump. Then it stills.

"What?" Your voice sounds so breathy, you're not sure Azriel even heard it, at least until scarred fingers slip under your chin, a thumb softly brushing over your cheek as his eyes narrow a little, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"You think I was this close to kissing your just for shits and giggles?" Azriel would sound dry if there wasn't that slight edge to his hoarse voice, if his eyes weren't flickering over your face feverishly and carefully, almost anxiously. You think you can feel his breath hitch and stutter when your nose almost brushes his, and suddenly you realise he's gotten really close, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips and his scent making your head swim.

"No?", you somehow manage to whisper, your voice almost breaking.

Azriel makes a noise at the back of his throat, deep and a little desperate; his nose nudges yours, and as a shiver runs up your spine and your breath stills in your throat, he mumbles "No." and dips his head to kiss you.

And you're pretty sure the world just stops.

Becomes so quiet you can hear your heart rising in a wild flutter, the way your breath shudders as you exhale in slow motion, and the quiet sound Azriel makes deep in his chest as his hands slide to the back of your neck.

And then he's kissing you. And his lips are warm and soft and pressing onto yours more feverishly with the second, and your hands rise to slide up his waist, hold onto him, and suddenly, you're not even close to being close enough.

Your legs are shaking when you move, push closer, until your chest is pressing into Azriel's, and he makes another soft noise before slipping his fingers into your hair; his body moving yours backwards until he's crowding you against the counter and you feel the cabinets press against your legs. Then Azriel deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours, and suddenly, you feel like starlight.

and with that

pretty much every question just vanishes.

erased by the way Azriel is kissing you, deep and feverish and desperate, like you're oxygen and he's been underwater for years

dinner's completely forgotten as you move through the kitchen, hips bumping against the counters and the table until you end up on the couch

Azriel's hands gripping your waist as you straddle him, your fingers buried in his hair as your bodies mold into each other and Az begins to figure out the 100 different ways to kiss you

and somewhere in the back of your brain

the part that isn't completely consumed by the way his chest is pressing into yours and scent is filling your lungs and body melts into yours

you wonder how a)

you ever made it without kissing him

without feeling his warm skin beneath your fingers and the taste of his lips and the way his hands slip under your shirt and press you closer

without hearing the tiny sounds he makes, deep and a little breathless as he's kissing you and you're kissing him back

and b)

how you're supposed to stop

bc now that you know what kissing Azriel feels like

you're really not sure how long you'll be able to go for without it.

(he does actually tell you the thing he's gonna give Mor shit for spilling for for the next decade

mumbled against your lips

and you're not sure how your heart doesn't give out with how far it leaps

but somehow, you manage to whisper those three words back

and Azriel makes a noise that causes your breath to tumble, bc it sounds like he doesn't quite believe it

and so you mumble it a few more times, until he kisses the words from your lips and you kiss them back onto his and neither of you can breathe)

of course there's the other option as well

the one where Azriel just can't help himself anymore

the one where you're sitting next to him in a quiet corner of the library or on the couch or in the passenger's seat of Rhys' car

and you're focused on something; your laptop, a book, your phone

and you have that slightly distant look on your face, your brows crunching

and even tho you're wearing a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Cassian, because it's massive on you, and your hair looks a lil wild

he feels like he's about to burst

because you're just too fucking beautiful

and he already missed his first shot bc of that fucking honking car

and it's getting hard to breathe and he really just can't take it anymore

and bc of that

he reaches over and slides his hand under your jaw, gently pulling it up and towards him

and for a moment, you're really confused, because does he want to show you something or -

and then he leans over

and suddenly

your head's empty

bc he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the shadows of a few freckles scattered over his nose and how long his lashes are and -

his scent washes over you, and your breath gets violently caught in your throat the same moment Azriel stills, barely an inch away

you can feel his breath on your skin and the warmth of him and how your heart is suddenly pounding against your ribs

and Azriel swears he will remember that moment until the day he dies

because you look like you've forgotten how to breathe

and you're staring at him in a way that makes every sense of doubt he had ever had about himself trickle away until there's nothing left but that harsh pulsing feeling in his chest

and he swears to himself he's gonna tell you he's hopelessly, utterly in love with you like a complete idiot

that he has been falling since the day you waltzed into the lives of him and his best friends

and how instead of crashing, the way you beam at him has given him wings

and a bunch of other stuff that won't even come close to describing how you make his heart beat out of his chest and breath hitch and whole being settle

but right now, he needs to kiss you

because he's been an absolute idiot for waiting this long

and he feels like if he waits just a second longer, he's gonna explode into a million pieces

and so

his heart pounding against his ribs and his breath getting stuck in his throat

he dips his head and kisses you

and then, just for a while, he forgets about anything and everything that's not you

@ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

[moonselune]

Hihi! First, thank you for feeding lovers of the bg3 ladies I feel like we're starving sometimes fanfic wise. Second, could I request Tav x Karlach where they just had a newborn and what that life might look like? Drabble or headcanons or anything! Thank you :D

omfg this is so so cute, i love this request I am such a sucker for anything bg3 related and babies

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x f!reader: Your turn, babe

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The middle of the night was heavy with silence, broken only by the sound of your newborn’s cries piercing through the air. You groaned softly, turning over in bed to see Karlach stirring beside you. Her fiery hair was a mess, her eyes barely open as she blinked sleepily into the dark.

“It’s your turn,” you muttered, your voice thick with exhaustion. Karlach grunted, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Nuh-uh, babe, I got up last time. It’s your turn,” she protested, her voice muffled from beneath the covers.

You squinted at her through the darkness, trying to remember the last time either of you had gotten a full night’s sleep. “No way. I swear I was up with them just an hour ago.”

Karlach groaned again, her arm flopping out from under the blanket as the baby’s wails grew louder. “I’m running on fumes here. My body’s literally powered by fire, and I’m still burning out.”

You chuckled, though it was half-hearted. The tiredness was bone-deep, but the baby needed you. With a heavy sigh, you started to swing your legs out of bed.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, the floor cold beneath your feet. “I’m going.”

“Such a good mama,” Karlach murmured, barely awake, her voice full of affection as she burrowed deeper into the sheets.

You gave her a playful glare, though she couldn’t see it. The baby’s cries tugged at your heart as you padded over to the small crib in the corner. Your little one was red-faced and wriggling, their tiny fists clenched in frustration.

“Shh, shh,” you whispered softly, lifting them into your arms, cradling their warm, squirming body against your chest. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

The cries began to quiet just a little as you gently rocked back and forth, humming a soft lullaby, though your body felt like it was made of lead. You leaned against the wall for support, exhaustion threatening to pull you under.

But before you could fully settle into the rhythm of soothing your newborn, you felt the familiar warmth of Karlach behind you. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and her body pressed against yours as she rested her chin on your shoulder. Her touch was grounding, and even though you were tired, you couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you doing up?” you whispered, glancing at her with a teasing smile. “Thought it was my turn.”

Karlach let out a low, lazy chuckle, the sound rumbling from deep in her chest.

“I couldn’t resist,” she murmured, nuzzling the side of your neck. “You and the little one, all wrapped up together… how could I stay in bed?”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet coos of your baby. “So, what was the point of all that bickering if you were just going to get up anyway?”

Karlach grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Gotta keep you on your toes, babe.”

You shook your head, though there was no real irritation behind it. “We’re both too tired for games.”

“I know,” Karlach said, her voice softer now, full of warmth. “But I just love this. Having you and the baby in my arms… it’s perfect. Even if I’m dead on my feet, I don’t care.”

Her arms tightened around you just a little, and together, the two of you rocked gently, swaying back and forth. Your baby was quieting now, lulled by the comfort of both their parents close by, their tiny hand gripping one of Karlach’s fingers.

For a moment, the exhaustion melted away, replaced by a feeling of absolute contentment. You leaned back into Karlach, your head resting against hers, the weight of the world feeling a little lighter with her by your side.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Karlach smiled, the fire in her eyes burning a little brighter in the dim light. “I love you too, babe. Both of you.”

And as the baby finally drifted off to sleep, you stood there together in the quiet of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the soft, steady rhythm of your newborn’s breathing reminding you that even in the hardest moments, you had everything you needed right here.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This is so cute I love it and I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[yelenasdiary]

Hello 👋

I saw your requests say open, but I know you're struggling with motivation to get content out so no worries if you cannot or don't want to fulfill this but I'm having a surgery soon so I'm requesting from some of my friends/fav writers hoping it helps me out in recovery.

Anyway sorry for the rambling lol, here's my idea. I was thinking like something with BuckyNat and R where Reader has to undergo surgery for something (maybe an old injury became too bad to deal with or maybe something happened on a mission that needs attention) and they're super nervous about it and hesitant to agree so Nat and Bucky sit down with them and just offer lots or love and support (even though they're both nervous too cuz that's their girl) so when Rs getting the surgery they're a bit of a mess until they know she's alright and then they help her settle into their room and help care for her as she starts to mend.

If you decide to write it I thank you lots in advance ☺️

Drabble || It's All Gonna Be Okay

Pairing: BuckyNat x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes wrong, you're told you need realignment osteotomy surgery, the idea of it makes you worried and full of nerves in which your partners help you overcome.

Tiny Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Medical talk, she/her pronouns used (I hope that's okay!!), This is not corrected or proof read. | 0.6K

Translations: detka (baby),

AC: I hope your op goes well!! I also hope this helps, sorry I made it a Drabble, I wanted to get this posted asap for you x

Bucky smiled softly at you, "what's on your mind doll?" he asked seeing your mind was a million miles away. Natasha sitting on the right side of your hospital bed, she looked up at the two of you.

"The thought of being put to sleep and some stranger playing around inside my body and touching my bones is freaking me out" you replied honestly. Bucky let out a soft chuckle, "doll, they are professionals" he reminded you.

"Yeah, they're not even thinking about how weird it is that they're touching somebodies bones" Nat pitched in. Sure, they had a point the thought of it was still uncomfortable. "Okay but what if something goes wrong?" you questioned. Nat placed her hand on top of yours, "detka, I promise you nothing is going to happen"

"That's right doll, nothing is going happen to my darling. You'll be in and out in no time and Nat and I will be waiting by your side" Bucky added. You looked over to him on your left side, "do you promise?" you asked.

"Have I ever broken a promise to you before?" he questioned with a soft smile. The support from the two of them did help ease some of your nerves and finally you agreed with your surgeon that you'd have the surgery on the condition that both Nat and Bucky were able to watch from the viewing room. At first your surgeon wasn't onboard with the idea but with a little sweet talking from Bucky and the two of them were sat in the view room watching the surgery unfold from above.

"She'll be okay" Natasha places her hand on Bucky's knee when she noticed the worrying look in his eyes. "I know but still, that's our girl down there, I can't help but worry" he replied. Nat rested her head on Bucky's right shoulder, "I know love, I'm worried too" she admitted.

They watched for what felt like forever until the operation was a success and you were returned to your room when both Nat and Bucky waited patiently for you to wake up, both of them holding your hand. When your eyes finally fluttered open, smiles filled the room. Bucky was relieved and Nat was just happy to see your beautiful eyes once more.

"How are you feeling detka?" Natasha asked, placing a kiss on your temple. "Tired" you replied, struggling to keep your eyes open, the last of the anaesthesia winning the battle making your partners lightly chuckle.

"I'll go get us some dinner, what do you want?" Nat asked Bucky knowing full well he wasn't going to leave your side for a second. "Burgers?" he replied, looking up at Nat as she placed a hand on his left shoulder, "you've got it soldier" Nat said, placing a kiss on his cheek.

----

A few weeks after your operation you started PT. Natasha made her it mission to make sure you had the best physiotherapist in the county, although you told Natasha it wasn't necessary but Bucky was on team Nat and you lost that battle.

Bucky basically waited on you hand and foot, he just wanted to make sure you were okay and in no pain. Night was one your favourite time of day because Natasha would somehow have dinner ready, by somehow you mean you were sure that Wanda cooked and Nat took the credit but you thought it was sweet she wanted to do something nice each night and let it slide.

After dinner, the three of you would snuggle up in bed, carefully of your knee of course but with the two people you love the most beside you, the pain from your knee was the least of your worries.

[twst-drabbles]

Azul and Idia 2

Summary: The winter chills and heavy rains have completely shut off your lights and your heater as a result. You bring out your old board games just to play around with this, and two little pets decided to join.

(Have I ever told any of you that I have a tiny board game collection? I do. Anyways, take a guess as to what board game I am referring to in this drabble. Should be easy to guess.)

There are many things about this house that you really loved. You loved it’s rather remote location, love that it’s not so remote that you needed a vehicle to drive to the store. You loved that there’s plenty of plants to give you fresh air. And mostly, you loved that this house was made to be used by anyone. You didn’t have to worry about being locked out of your basic needs just because you couldn’t use magic to activate them.

What you don’t love is the fact that this is an old house. Because it lacked modern sensibilities, it is prone to fail more often than you’d like.

And right now, you are in the middle of such a failing. Wind and rain have been pelting your roof, pipes and wires like no tomorrow and eventually, your house just gave up. The lights flickered one day and went out like that. Along with your heater.

You already called in advance, but because of the weather, you’d have to sit tight for the next few days until conditions are good.

So, here you are, bundled up in your winter hiking clothing just because it was the closest thing on hand, with you two little pets.

Azul, the little guppy, was no stranger to the cold. His kind are used to being in frigid waters, so he didn’t have to wear anything. Well, rather he didn’t want to wear anything. Hates clothing since it always sticks to him in all the wrong ways. His skin is always wet, so you can understand.

“Nope,” you pushed the little old lady figure back a section on the hallway tile, “can’t move a fifth time, Azul. You already used your two actions.”

Azul went stiff and curled into himself, flushing an array of colors at this small error. You patted his tentacle writhing self on the head. No worries, no worries. He grabbed onto your hand like it was his moral support as he corrected his movement and set his figure–less than half his size but still looking pretty big–at the end of the hallway.

You heard a tiny snicker to your left and blew a strong gust of air towards Idia. His flame aura flickered and twirled back like a wayward leaf, though leafs don’t really yell in distress. He caught himself in time on the battery lamp you had set on a nightstand.

Idia was also bare, though he’s taken to wearing a little embroidered handkerchief like it’s a cape. It’s leftover merchandise you got because you saw Idia really focused on this dark fantasy anime the tv has been playing. Little dork. Mean little dork.

“Don’t laugh at him, Idia,” you said as he hovered back to the main table, low to the ground like was dragging himself, “Anyways, your turn. What do you want to do?”

Idia floated over and tapped a question mark token laid on the entrance tile. He hummed, though it almost sounded like a sad huff.

“Alright,” you woke up your tablet–connected to a power bank–and tapped on the matching question mark, “you want to investigate the painting?”

Idia nodded.

“Then show your character card to me please. It’s a skill check one.”

A slow game for a slow day. Honestly, you’re surprised that these two are staying as still as they are. They both have this nervous chihuahua energy about them, and when they’re together, they tend to amplify those levels. Well, they become less nervous, but they start having too much fun and get jittery like they drank concentrated coffee.

Well, at least you found something that’ll keep them calm until they’re tired.

[dragcnbreak]

hiii can u maybe do a drabble with little!mike, like he wakes up tiny after a nightmare and cg!reader (masc if thats okay :)) has to comfort him? i love ur mike drabbles and headcanons btw theyre so RASKJHFLD /pos /nf obviously :)

HI FRIEND <3 I literally have like 7 requests to get to but I decided to write this because little!mike and I love the idea <3 ive kinda avoided using daddy because of how sexualized the term is but I use it here! I hope you don’t mind; I can always change it!!! I hope you enjoy <33

◞♡࿐ (post movie, so contains spoilers)

You were asleep when Mike woke up, sweating and crying. He had just woken up from a nightmare featuring the yellow rabbit, the man who had hurt his little brother and almost his little sister too. He had a bad day before and was ultimately exhausted so his nightmare made him age regress.

“Daddy,” he cried out for you, softly shaking your shoulder, “please wake up.” In his dream, the yellow rabbit had hurt you too and he couldn’t bare it if his dream had become reality. You were too important to him. When you didn’t wake up, Mike began sobbing even more and shaking you even harder. “Please, don’t tell me the bad man hurt you too.”

Fortunately, you had woken up and caught the last half of Mike’s sentence. “Hey hey hey bear, I’m okay. Daddy’s okay.” You reassured him, mumbling with sleep still evident in your voice. You slowly sat up on your elbows and gathered your boy into a hug, running your hands along his back in a repetitive manner to soothe him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? What bad man?” You asked even if you likely already knew. You had barely known Mike when he worked at Freddy’s but you had heard plenty about the events surrounding William Afton from him, Vanessa, and even Abby.

Mike sniffled, “the yellow rabbit. The one who took Garrett and almost hurt Abby. He had hurt you this time and I couldn’t save you and he laughed and laughed and laughed. And then he came to hurt me and that’s when I woke up.” He started to sob more because of his rambling, this time in your arms.

You lifted a hand up and ran your fingers through his soft hair. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby boy. That must have been so scary. But I’m okay and so is Abby. She’s right down the hall and I’m right here with you in my arms, safe and sound.” Mike nodded but kept crying, clearly still upset with his dream.

You began to think of ways to further calm him that didn’t involve staying up too much longer. He might not want to sleep again but you know he should, as he’s always tired. “Hey, how about we go warm you up some milk? And then I can borrow a book from Abby and read you a bedtime story? Does that sound okay?” Mike blanched at the thought of sleeping again but nodded anyway.

“That’s my good boy.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead and detached yourself from him, quickly getting up and rushing over to his side of the bed. You helped him up and held his hand as you walked to the kitchen together. You knew he was regressed to his usual age of about 10 but the fact that he didn’t reject your hand holding meant he was still pretty scared.

You arrived at the kitchen with your boy in tow, grabbing a pot and the gallon of milk in the fridge. You poured out some milk into the pot and turned the stove on before putting the milk back in its place. You grabbed a plastic spoon to stir and began to hum softly, squeezing Mike’s hand as you did.

Soon enough, the milk was warm enough (as per your taste tester’s word) and you still held hands on the way back to his room. He sipped his milk and sat on the bed. You ran your fingers through his hair once again and then made your way to Abby’s room. You were plenty quiet as you grabbed a book you knew Mike liked.

Back in his room, Mike had laid back down and put his glass on the bedside table, his eyes already starting to close. But he fought it, wanting to hear you telling him a bedtime story. And so you began telling it, making sure to do all the voices you know he loved to hear. He giggled at the appropriate times, still sniffling a bit as he drank some more milk.

Within a few minutes, you had finished the story and looked up to see the glass empty and your boy soundly asleep. You smiled fondly and shut the book softly. Putting it next to the glass, you got back into bed with Mike. You moved him slightly so you could spoon him, hoping to protect him from any more nightmares. And with that, you fell back asleep as well.

[andkisses]

♡ physical touch | txt ♡

ot5!txt headcanon: the types of touch/physical intimacy you share

♡ ot5 x gn!reader | wc. 1.1k  ♡ genres/tropes: fluff!  ♡ mentions of/warnings: use of pet names, and ofc physical touch  ♡ a/n: bulletpoint format + small drabble, a little something for every member <3 soobin’s first and the rest below the cut ^^  ♡ masterlist ♡

✧･ﾟ: *soobin | piggyback rides

always whines when you ask, but secretly obsessed with being able to hold you and take you anywhere

will 100% knock you into things and act like it was an accident

“sorry babe, u know how clumsy i am” 

you roll your eyes, but hold him closer all the same, squeezing your arms around his neck

“soobin be careful,” you mutter, face buried in his shoulder, and soobin can’t help but smile as he carries you piggyback style down the beach. you’d complained only once–a short and simple “my feet hurt.” and that was all it took for him. why should you suffer when he knows a perfect solution? he knelt down, offering a single, “would this make it better?” already knowing your response, savoring how it felt to have you jump on. sure, he goofs around with the occasional “oh no watch out i’m falling!” fakes and bumping into things, but he’s silently sworn to keep you safe, here and anywhere else. with your head resting on his shoulder, arms around his neck, and his hands tucked safely and securely beneath your thighs, holding you close to him–soobin is perfectly content. he gently knocks his head into yours, a small laugh escaping his lips. “anything you say, dear.”

✧･ﾟ: *yeonjun | neck nuzzles

whenever he’s down or having a bad day or simple needs to hold you

you’re there, and yeonjun’s crawling on top to lay on you like your own personal weighted blanket

he’ll nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling the underside of your chin

but the way he shives slightly under your touch as you comb through his hair is payment enough

yeonjun looks up at you with a blank face, tired with the day, but even as he tries his best, seeing you melts away his fear and angst. you’re his healing, and he’s so happy you’re his. yeonjun’s smile blooms even wider as you cup his cheeks gently between your hands. “oh, jjunie,” you coo, and yeonjun blushes at how easily, how quickly he turns to putty in your hands. but he loves it anyway, the warmth that floods his body when you give him your attention. he really would do anything for you. “c’mere,” you whisper, an invitation. yeonjun props himself up, crawling forward to envelope you in a large hug, his arms strong against your back and his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. he shivers a little when you start to comb your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. this, he’s sure, is paradise.

✧･ﾟ: *beomgyu | slow dancing

any time. any place. with or without music. beomgyu just loves to hold you close and sway to whatever

in the kitchen when you’re baking and you’ve just set the timer along with the radio

outside in the rain when you’ve both forgotten umbrellas and he can get once dance in, singling whatever song you like

if he can hold you close in the most classically romantic fashion, he will

the clock is surely past midnight; outside has quieted down as much as the city can. the lights are all off, safe for the one light in the kitchen. it casts a broken yet warm glow to everywhere it can reach. beomgyu doesn’t care, though, he’s too busy reveling in having you in his arms once again. every time is like magic, something he wished for long ago that’s only now true. he rocks you back and forth around the tiny living room, his hand in yours and on your hip, keeping you safe. beomgyu can feel your warmth, smell your perfume, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. he loves the weight of your body pressing into his, using his strength to hold the both of you. a some point, the two of you stopped dancing, ending up in one spot. he’s convinced you’re asleep as he sways you gently, but he’s certain, if he can stay in this joy forever, he’ll stand here for eternity.

✧･ﾟ: *taehyun - bridal carry

gym rat muscle big idk what u call it but it isn’t just for sure

taehyun like to put his well earned muscles to work

it could be wrestling you and pinning you down to cover you in kisses and giggles

or, his personal favorite, scooping you up and carrying you wherever you request

the laughter that falls from your lips is his favorite sound, taehyun decides, as he scoops you up into his arms and holds you close to his chest. one arm firm behind your back, the other beneath you knee, he grins as you throw your hands around his neck and laugh into him. “where to?” he asks, as if you actually have somewhere to go on a lazy saturday evening. you shake your head. “uh, back to where i was?” taehyun fakes a pout–he wouldn’t get to hold you so close for very long if he just put you down. so he nods, and goes, “a small trip then,” and proceeds to hold and swing and walk you around the apartment and in every room. your bubbly laughter as he swoops and dips you, like your own personal roller coaster, keeps him going. when he finally gets back to the couch, he sits down, you still in his arms. you reward him with a kiss–sweet and tender, and it’s all taehyun needs.

✧･ﾟ: *kai -  tiptoe kiss on the stairs

we get it. he knows it u know: he’s tall

so he isn’t used to being the tall person in a kiss

which is why, whenever he can orchestrate it to happen

he’ll race down the stairs ahead of you and stop, turning around with a pout and wink

stairs. his favorite. kai races ahead of your laughter, wind rushing through his hair as he basically skips to the bottom of a record-breaking five steps. you’re caught up in your giggles behind him, holding onto the railing. when kai turns around, the most obnoxiously fake wink on his face, you laugh even harder. you’re careful to make it down the steps, laughter still bubbling up, until you stop on the step just before the end. it gives you enough height on him that kai has to look up–and he thinks you look like an angel, with the moonlight and street lamps behind you. his arms wrap around your waist to keep you steady–and to pull you closer–as you lean down to kiss him. it always ends with him twirling you around fairytale style. it’s the least he can do to thank you for these indulgences.