#and go to sleep before I lose the energy to even sleep
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𓂃 ¡ #YOU BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME ── honkai star rail ?! 🗯️‹3 𓂃 ˒ ʿʿ ❛ you taste like nectar and salt and apples ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ
ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 WARNINGS ! gender neutral reader, reader is shy-ish, just tooth-rutting fluff drabbles, with a sprinkle of angst ( if you squint ), and ( mutual ) comfort, very to little mention of injuries on aventurine's, boothill's and blade's part, mention of sleep deprived reader, i don't specified any mental issues, but i do describe readers struggles which could be identified as anxiety. ♡ˎˊ˗
jing yuan .ᐟ
"please, you can keep it."
jing yuan couldn't help but wonder what it was in particular that overwhelmed you... but then, he understands. couldn't stand being cooped up inside for everyone to gawk at.
"are you sure you won't miss in it at all? that's not to say i mind—i'd be happy to keep it."
a soft – ' ' uh - huh ' ' follows the gentle flutter of your ears , quiet gesture of reassurance that you are still listening very intently so. you are thoughful for a moment, nose scrunching as you pour your energy into trying to remember something.
but once your attention returns, it's with a solemn shake of your head. "general, i trust you would take care of it. it's okay".
his mouth open part to speak at least once, but he once more loses his thought before it catches on his tongue. how odd, for he is never had any problem finding a thousand things to say, even if none if it particularly made any sense.
"it's a music box," you tapped the box in jing yuan's hand, "i wanted to give you something"
eyes that glow a honey hue remain transfixed on you, investigating every detail of how you present yourself, "how so?"
watching jing yuan's shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, "it sort of remains me of you"
it's the most lively you are appeared since he knew you, pacing back and forth, speaking through the previous sorrow to find something that fires you up. and maybe it's an easy way to get you off the topic of yourself, something you still finds no comfort in sharing.
jing yuan stared down at the box, then you. looking / longing / slipping like sand through his fingers. not anymore. not anymore.
jing yuan lunges── lunges for the familiar hand, heart freezing somewhere between his chest and his throat because— it was unintentional?
the feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you. it was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything. and here you were, unknowingly returning it to him. you hadn't intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.
what could he say to that? when he's been in rhythm with you for so long── he can see the telltale cracks in your smile, now forcing his hands to twitch around the box. the consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, it was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. filled with relief and joy and love, the warmth of your embrace enveloping and safe. / — oh
it was you.
the moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming. the feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.
" it's surprisingly easy to tell you are different, after all. i mean── " a halfhearted wave at the walls warping around them, laughter present in his voice," not everyone can do this." a pause, a deliberate deliberation, before the master of masters continues." i think you're special."
oh, but he'd never be satisfied with that answer. maybe he's blown it already, so jing yuan continues, switching the subject / shifting his attention away, if only for a moment.
he reaches out to hold your hand, gently tugs you close and leans forward the phantom touch of warm skin beneath his fingers. and for a moment, he wonders how many hearts, indeed, were connected to you.
( where those connections might lead him── how vast that web could be── jing yuan reigns himself in as he'd learned, as he'd been taught. not yet. not yet.)
"come, dance with me. i have gone too long without dancing, and it is no fun doing it alone." such a delighted giggle to mirror yours, eyes glowing in an excitable manner.
"oh, i would adore nothing more than to dance with you." there is always grace in your movements, more so now as he squeezes your hand and bounces from one foot to the other in anticipation. "only if you promise not to make fun of me when i do not know all the moves–"
aventurine .ᐟ
"i think you're kinder than you think you are,"
you say, and it's an unsettling statement but — but what else does you have to give him? She seems to wake up, a bit more. "i'm less lonely, since you came. that's kind."
aventurine turns away from you and your untouching hands, as if the honesty was too brutal to bear. perhaps there is some emotion left in him after all── the thought unsettles him. the thought disgusts him, but he says nothing of it.
"don't trip over yerself romancin' me like this, you are gonna make me blush. " still, playful on the surface though it may be, there's a decisive undercurrent of seriousness to his question – he's picked up in the months past that the subtle mimic is their way of acting coy. he expels a breath (making like he's sooo scandalized ), only to offer up a knowing smirk of his own in return, pitching forward in silent invitation. "if you really must know, i was hoping you'd make the first move."
"oh." it's a surprised sound. you turn towards aventurine, eyebrows scrunched like you don't know what to say / you don't know how to phrase it.
his hand twitches in your hold, but aventurine does not pull away, lets you examine his hand. "did you make the first move on this, too?. " the story of which, he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell. isn't it easier to shy away── switch the narrative? he's good at that. aventurine has always been disgustingly good at that.
" if i wanted something casual, i would run it by you a little sooner. didn't think this, " he flicks his hand– or rather, the distinct cut across his palm. another debt, another mission, it doesn´t matter, you never asked anyways. " needed clarification. i thought i was being obvious. " but he has to remind himself you hadn't actually seen how aventurine acts around others – nor witnessed how easily his boundaries are set. he continues, amending: " not playing around, officially. maybe i wanted you to crush me "
your breath stills, feeling the coolness of his hand brush alongside your skin... you dared to steal a glance, even if just for a second.
"crush you, huh...? " you take his hand in yours, soaking in every little nick and crack there was. his hands were rough, but never with you. you absently rubs you thumb over his knuckles, wondering where this confession came from. "i think having a crush on you is just enough."
the gesture of affection catches him by surprise / very little succeeds in taking him off guard, and he's startled out of his deep reflection with a jolt.
there's── such rage, in his chest, in every bit of his body. aventurine is angry, so angry, he feels like he'll burst. but you offered, smiling up at him with an expression that wiped any variation of the word "no" from his dictionary.
you gently trace over the back of his hand, half-lidded eyes unable to meet his gaze. it's the age old ache, too scared to share your stories... something you know all too well. you close his palm. "you can always tell me if it's too much. don't push yourself, 'kay?"
a chirping something, dulcet and winking; allows the endearment 'gainst back of hand with the way of firt times. there's a noticeable shift in the air, the entire mood of the atmosphere changes as a wave of warmth rolls over. quiet, stillness, all but for boothill who caused it.
aventurine watches── his hand relaxes into your hold minutely, but does not comment. unlike the burnt and healed flesh on your lower back, this, still, retains some sort of sensation. " alright, " he says, but there's the faintest glow on his hues. " as long as you don't push yourself either. "
dr. ratio .ᐟ
veritas has a soft spot for you. implicit, but it's there.
veritas knows you need it as much as he need to know you're doing okay, because his obligation is to save you from the cause of your torment; yourself.
he's always subtle, silent; lets his hands communicate for him. veritas languidly reaches to brush the tips of his fingers behind your ear, momentarily tucking a lock of hair that would continuously unfold as if to spite him.
drool sheens the parted corner of your mouth, and your hair is akin to the mane of a lion's. you had told him you hate when he keeps staring while you are sleep, but he has to admit, the way he's seeing you right now is one of his favorites. his gape is pillared; fixated and immovable from your visage. veritas ratio finds himself enthralled with a work of art.
his fingers rouse through your knotted locks, thumb prodding into your temple and stroking soothing lengths into the dimpled flesh as you're muttering incoherent speech, and veritas finds himself amused again.
your slumped shoulders no longer quivered a while ago, but the needful grasp of your hands remained adamant as to maintaining a tight clench around his torso. he had sheltered you in his arms, devoid of warmth, his caress is cold. his wintry touch induces an outbreak of goosebumps, but the sensation eases the itch to your body, and the comforting chill is akin to balm.
you have yet to awaken, limbs wildly splayed as your temple nestles snuggly into his neck. veritas rests a heavy palm onto your crown, soothingly stroking his palm over your head as you sigh against his soft skin in bliss, already lost to a slumber he coaxed you.
his thumb trails along your side, and he doesn't hesitate his assault even when you grumble protests from your sleep.
"stop," you mumble, cheeks hollowed and lips ajar "five more minutes." you hardly discern his figure through your lidded gaze, but your skin singes where you maintain contact
hushed snores, faint and distinct, softly rumble beneath the tower of blankets where you sleep. you're snuggled impossibly close, temple pillared atop his chest.
right from the start, you knew veritas wasn't one to be overly physically affectionate. it's not that he hates it or is cold, he simply isn't used to it.
occasionally, however, he feels the need to be near you. loves the way you immediately step closer into his personal space and squeeze his hand back, not saying anything about this rare display of affection.
he's not easy to love, but he's worth the effort.
he loves so endlessly, with unfiltered promises of something that lasts beyond forever. he pays attention to every last detail, reads in between the finest of prints, his mind is always filled with you, from the bottom to the top, up to the very brim. his eyes miss nothing, and his intuition has honed itself to map you out in every way.
"don't be daft. some of us can't afford to slack off and forgo our regular daily structure." he says instead and watch, in amazement, your hazy, small smile. the defensive undertone in his voice almost makes you laugh again. is the same tone that people use when talking to four-year-olds. and a very familiar tone that means he's humoring you.
"but i can, see?" you whisper, with a cheeky grin in your face that tells him you are not sorry at all, before vertias stabs you in the liver with one of his unreasonably pointy fingers without even looking.
you wheeze before you could stop it. frown on your face, you clutch at your side. you are pretty sure this is what being shot by an arrow feels like. you try to you punch his shoulder as lightly as possible as you go, but veritas dodges you without blinking because he's actually an robot. you huff in complaint.
"do that again and i'm not coming near you for the next week" you croak before you manage to sit up ungracefully, forced to bend your legs in a way you're sure no human was meant to attempt.
"don't be so spoiled." he hums in appreciation, because he knows you are lying, so he extends his arms in your direction, and soon you were wrapped in his arms again, leaning into his chest.
the fleeting reaction bridged your skin as if wildfire. you have things to do soon, but neither of you made a move to pull away from where veritas protectively caged you. unconsciously pressing his hand on your back were your steadily beating heart is.
veritas has the incredible ability to squeeze into any space, as long as you are there.
his actions aren't fast, his hugs not the kind to be quickly dismissed. many of the times he lets you sink into his chest as he holds your waist with his free arm, pulling you as close as he possibly can. he makes sure that when he pulls away; he gets to see that dopey grin on your lips.
he has you, he affirms, right here. veritas has no desire to abandon his home in your arms.
boothill .ᐟ
boothill tends to break.
a matter of fact. your mind had stored a quite lengthy recording of your own voice yelling afterwards. ("what do you mean boothill lost an arm!?"). the series would repeat until heavy exhales began to breeze past the split of your parted lips.
other times him successfully erecting a melodious laugh to befall your lips despite there's half of his body missing and you are borderline in tears, but all common human sense has gone out the window and died a sad death on the street below before a semi ran over it at full speed and that metaphor got gruesome quick, which means you have been spending too much time around boothill and his drama.
what else is new, though? other than boothill being romantic and, hell, boothill being romantic, without even meaning to be.
he carries your work stuff as insignificant as it could be, wrap an arm around your shoulder when you're cold, hovers you over his shoulder any time you are feeling tired (theres no need to), let's you cling to his arm (and feels so proud when you do), keeps an eye on you to prevent hostile glances, holds your hands from behind when you're trying to play with his gun, he is oh so careful whenever he wants to initiate a kiss and enfolds a hand around your neck and gentle pull in his direction before he lets your lips collide with his cheek.
you know he is romantic even when he thinks he's being so slick— so smooth doing that. he wants to think he doesn't look like it much, therefore he's very much in love with your physical affection. you had fixed boothill up with efficient, gentle hands. you'd done it all with a frown and no shortage of eye-rolling, but you'd done it.
but boothill is romantic where it counts, too. are the gifts pretty? yeah. do you look good in his clothes? you look good in everything. he's romantic, and it's because he thinks about you all the time. because you run around his mind, looking at him with both eyebrows raised everytime boothill abruptly discovers he's staring blankly at you with his mouth partially open and pressing a kiss to his jaw for good luck before a mission like he means something. he's romantic because he knows it takes work to keep you almost as much as you know the way he breaks.
even in the non-literal manner.
"somethin' happen" you whispered into the quiet room, silence present and actively eating away at your spoken acclamation "be gentle with yourself, you deserve better."
it could be accurate, considering the place was pitch black. you hadn't even changed your attire clothes, you couldn't even recall how long you laid on the couch of your house before losing consciousness and after feeling boothill heavy body looming over yours, nestled between your legs with his face in your chest and close to your heart.
boothill is huge, menacing and colossal, he could easily reduce you into a timid clump of cowardice that writhes beneath his hold, but you like it too, the weight of him over you is comforting. he is careful about crushing you, anyways. most of the time.
he growls, your heavy lids fought against the descending motion the soft rumbling that his chest made against your skin. occasionally, you would crack open an eye to peek at the time and perk an ear to listen for any indication he is having a malfunction. just in case. (what do you mean boothill lost an arm!?). your gaze travels from high to low, optics seeking a source to distract yourself from the weight of his awaiting stare.
"what do ya think i deserve, sweetheart?" his voice is slightly muffled againts yor skin. it makes him sound much more worn out, you guess. and somewhat mocking, in any case.
boothill never has efficiently voiced whatever nonsense clutters that tireless cranium of his, but he acknowledges your pain as his own. your lips drawn south, boothill drums his hand past your uniform and into the flesh of your waist, shrugging under the cold metal fingers with a gasp. he requires reassurance no more than you.
"c'mon, let me-" you tried to push yourself up using your elbows, but his palms are slide down to snug at your hips with an immovable weight, heavy and pillared, to prevent your escape, as if you though of leaving him.
"you're a little nuisance, aren't ya?" he rambled. spilling whatever random scene were to display beneath his eyelids. you had a sneaking suspicion that he was just about running on autopilot.
hitting your head in the cushions again, your hands meekly settled upon the length of his shoulders, eyes scarcely searching for vibrant grayish tones, split from his stare whenever he smugly simpered at your expression of coy.
you try to get up again, but he takes advantage of the opportunity and nestles his face into the delicate skin of the crook of your neck. it almost makes you giggle. one of his arms wraps around your waist a little tighter while the other skirts around your shoulders to cradle the back of your head. you smell of fresh cotton, vanilla, and mint, and boothill can feel his circuits go foggy.
your gazes don't meet- he doesn't want to be seen. he doesn't want you to see him. not right now.
yet you understand why, he doesn't have to tell you, either; because he feels so heavy like this that you can't bring yourself to care, so you keep your lips thinned and sealed, and instead you caress his back and hold him, patronizingly brushing his scalp.
the idea of it was hard to swallow, that you really and truly cared so much about him. but god, if he didn't crave it. if he didn't yearn for it with every bit now that he finally surrendered to it. it was easier to sink than swim, and you was a pleasant ocean to drown in.
sunday .ᐟ
he knows how this works, half of the time.
you always greet him with a smile an sunday thinks it's his favorite way to start the night after a long day of work. regardless of how tired he feels, the moment you step into the room he starts looking for you. usually, he finds you lying in bed, just about to fall asleep.
sunday stands there for a moment, smile stretching his lips as he admires your beauty, before finally approaching you. takes your hand in his with such tenderness it brings a mirroring smile to your face. bows solemnly before you so he can press his warm lips to your knuckles, and stays like that for a moment. wordlessly. basking in the sheer devotion he feels for you.
"i missed you today," he mumbles as sits down next to you and leaves a peck on your cheek.
and like any other day, you bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into the palm of his hand that lingers even when he moves his hand away, chuckling with fondness.
"i can tell," you whisper, and he involuntarily fumed each time you hold his face in your hands, palm resting on his cheek as your thumb traces little circles there. face flared scarlet and encased with a ring of heat, sunday's flustered disposition was hard to pass. his heart pattered at an unbelievable rate, and he was sure he had been painted crimson from the tips of his toes to the curvature of his round ears.
he could spend hours like that, just looking at you, committing your everything to memory so that when the night falls and you're not by his side, he can vividly reminiscent your hours together. sunday gulped away his nervousness, optics dancing around the room to locate a suitable distraction. he guaranteed he would lose composure in a matter of dwindling seconds.
"you look tired." your voice tickled his ears like the blown tune of wind chimes. when you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him to lie down next to you.
he was aware of how this worked. he has known you for years now, of course he knows what he's doing, but he can't help but play dumb when you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him to lie down next to you. his hand on your thigh. yor mouth had been moving, but no sound encountered sunday's auditory sense.
he jittered anxiously, bounding his knee from his wide-legged seat. he peered at the kneeled girl, eyes slightly unfocused and heart pounding no slower than it previously had been. [yn] hooked a finger towards herself, a coy smirk smugly pinned onto her crinkled cheeks. she swore she'd win again. she promised him another victory in her name before adjusting where she were, spine pressed to his chest and head snuggly lulled beneath his shoulder.
he was aware of how this worked, in the morning, in the morning he would get up early, only to have to say goodbye to your sleeping figure before facing reality, but success possessed scant significance to the enamored man. he since convinced himself that he has already won. content with the belief he had already acquired millions with you who lovably curled into his arms, his lids framing pools of fondness garnered by himself. defeat unquestionably withheld hardly any importance. sunday had achieved the trophy at the end of his own race; you amounted to no earthly claim.
and maybe it is scary / too scary to ever go through / too scary to ever allow to happen again. he doesn’t think you are fragile – moreso, he knows you aren't. can’t be, at least not in the ways humans are, and he also knows that this inhuman fragility that isn’t fragility at all is what drew him to you in the first place. it’s the closeness of you that undos him, ultimately.
he buries a his face into the skin of your neck, muffles the throatiness of it with an inhale as his hands seek purchase in the hook of your waist, palms coming to rest on your lower back, mapping out the jut of bone. you aren't fragile by any means, by any human means, so sunday is gentle with you in the ways humans can’t be, because while you aren't fragile – aren't , you deserve to know you are precious nonetheless.
your name is a spoken whisper followed by a controlled exhale—“welcome home. ”
blade .ᐟ
blade likes to believe that, after all these years, he's grown immune to your charms and beauty.
he likes to pretend that his heart doesn't race when he sees your smile or hears your laugh, just the way it did all those years ago, when your love was just starting to bloom and everything felt brand new. that he doesn't feel like bursting into song whenever you say his name in that same tone that's always awoke the butterflies in his stomach and brought pure and warm devotion to his eyes.
it's become second nature to him.
still, there's only so much his poor heart can resist when you're looking so beautiful. he always fails, anyways.
the pitter patter of the rain does little to drown out the rapid beating of blade's heart, hammering against his ribcage and threatening to carve its way through his chest. there's nothing it can do to put out the flames you've lit in his soul as they continue to burn it all in their wake, until everything outside this moment, standing with you in the rain, his heart bared for you to hold, is reduced to nothing but ashes, a barren soil from which you emerge, a flower that blooms against all odds.
"you are staring." the way your laugh quietens down as you gaze at him, soft smile persisting in your lips, is breathtaking.
your eyes seem to shine in a way that has his breathing faltering; and when you lean in closer, he swears his heart is ready to burst out of his chest and into your hands
yeah, he is staring.
blade gives an audible hum, her eyes flashing with confusion and something akin to embarrassment. his mouth opens just a little. probably he wasn't specting you to come along. you suppress both a sigh and a smirk as blade looks the other way
at that, you raise an eyebrow. "your hand. do you not require assistance, blade?" your voice is nothing short of regal, and blade gapes for a second before she huffs.
"i can do this for my own," he says. his tone is reverent and wondering, and you has to physically clench your teeth to keep from sighing, again.
"it's more easy this way" you say as you hold out your own hand as an invitation, pulling an embroidered silk handkerchief from the sleeve of your outfit, blade glances furtively over at you.
he still radiates tireless energy, yet somehow, even so, you can feel that he is not mad or angry, is not truly irritated. he is mad, but only with himself. in his moment of thought, your fingertips wander and accidentally brush against blade's hand.
cool.
you almost jumps at the contact, but you are so well trained in the art of masking emotions that you do not so much as flinch. you carried on steadily cleaning the blood. blade, however, is an entirely different case.
he jerks, lips parting in question. "what are you playing?" he seems to choke, blinking a few times.
"is there a problem, bladie?" you asks- quietly, though. you cannot bring yourself to be firm right now, not when you are breathing the same air as blade and your fingers still remember the coolness of blade's hand.
red eyes bite into you, questions and bewilderment plain in them, but then he just shakes his head and growl.
"no, just finish already" the signs might not be all that visible to most people, but to you, they're instantly noticeable.
on his lips were words lost to time as his tongue sat heavy in his mouth, motionless and frozen as he couldn't grasp a retort that were sure to reduce you to a state similar of his own. you nod and thinks to yourself that blade really is like a lake, his emotions crystal clear on the surface in a way that belies a complicated, tangled personality. yet just one tiny pebble, one little act of kindness, can send ripples through him.
you hope you are the only person throwing pebbles into the lake.
there's a certain familiar tightness to blade's hand, the slightest tilt of vast irritation to his eyes. you can read him, all his little burning mannerisms, and you know at your core, blade is a raging, smoldering star, sweltering underneath the masks he's been taught are natural.
"can i kiss you?" you whisper, almost too low for hear. there's fire there, fire that's almost been smothered, but can be encouraged back to life when occasion calls for it.
it's there, it's real, and you knows it, although he doubts anyone else truly does.
gape descending towards the glossed mounds of your nude colored lips, blade anxiously swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, eyes flickering towards the fixed stare pinned onto his expression of desperation. your stoop depicted what desire you hoped to transpire.
blade breaths a heavy snort through his nose, shaking his head as if you should have known to take initiative. "if you don't, i'll do it myself." the sly grin that tugged the crinkled corners of his lips split into a smile, his healthy hand danced along the supple skin beneath the side of your jaw.
drawn in as if pulled by the magnetism of earth's gravitational pull, the couple tenderly press against the other, lips interchanging a delicate lip-lock as stars blinked at their action, the flittering of their various light raining upon them as if a smile from the aeons.
the glide of their lips persevered until they broke for breath. their chests heaved with exhaustion, but a contrasting expression of triumph remained in the shape of your smile, though something falters, sly smile slipping from your cocked smirk of feigned aplomb as your chest palpitated; skipped more than a couple of rhythmic beats.
"what-" it's at that moment, when you are thinking of a blade clad in injuries and spiritual pressure, that blade's hand brushes lightly against your spine.
warm.
you jump, startled beyond measure, and make a choking sound, as if you didn't seem to have noticed his trailing fingers.
"what?" speechless; at a loss, you suck your bottom lip between your teeths as you clumsily fumbles with your wringing hands.
blade gawps before he lets a low chuckle before he makes you sink into his chest, near to leaving you breathless. you had gasped as if stumbling upon treasure before you clumsily grips at his shoulders with a child's enthusiasm.
"this wasn't the point" you stutter inelegantly, and blade blinks with blank stare of melting ice and thawing snow. you can feel flames beginning to rise in your cheeks, and you swears internally."cheeky." you say, but didn't dare to move, snaking an arm around his body and presses even closer.
he is okay, this gentle and soft thing, the featherlight feeling of being able to share your pain with someone who's a familiarity, someone who cares.
argenti .ᐟ
argenti loves you.
in a tender (and embarrasing) way you couldn't hate; from the dopey grin, the biggest, happiest wave whenever he sees you from across the room, argenti is evidently smitten.
you already knew, sort of. he wasn't the subtle one, anyways. but you weren't the qui vive type either.
maybe it was easy, you supposed, to pick up on your mood as easy as it was to notice argenti's green eyes are much more brighter when the light bounces off him. he'll smile at you, soft voice greeting you. maybe he was just overly friendly, with the way he held your hand as though you're the center of the universe-and he's just some random dude caught up in your gravitational orbit. maybe you were a little too hooked up in his fondness that it hurts.
how he loves you, did everything he could to hear the sweet bells of your laughter and see your smile. how he hug you every single day, he emanated a sort of warmth that didn't feel artificial despite the armor, almost like an embrace that was only second best in comparison to one of the bear's actualhugs. the soft, constant ticking of his voice like a soft lull soothing you into a relaxed, sleepy state.
argenti never let you go home upset, and he always take the time you needed to be comfortable with speaking your thoughts. he knows the way you like your food, the music you prefer so he can hum them when you are feeling particulary nasty, the rose that you love and that he never forgets to bring you on each of his journeys. he knows everything, doesn't he?
"are you alright? you seem a little off. shall i escort you to a first-aid station?"
the voice echoes somewhere near inside your skull, and you snap. all hope for sweet words is thrown out the window entirely, blood thrumming through your veins like electricity.
you whip your head up so fast you could feel something cracked uncomfortably to see none other than argenti's soft, green eyes staring at you with something akin to worry. you hum quietly, slowly dragging your gaze to argenti's cheek.
"just peachy" you can hardly settle your nerves. you uneasily inhale and seek resolve, exhaling the timid emotion with a shaken sigh "you are ready to go. that scratch should not take long to heal"
you back off, the corners of your lips tremble, quiver and quake, as he lifts up. argenti has the ability to look so grateful even if you have only disinfected a scratch in a way you were lowkey successfully diverted every single time.
"i am... truly sorry. it appears it's it's time for my departure, but i would hate to leave you by yourself..." argenti's sad voice always makes you feel in a way that suggests you enjoy throwing puppies into traffic, and argenti was a particularly kicked one.
how a person could sound so apologetic is going to be your biggest question, (was it your fault?), but you don't feel out of place; you wonder if you're supposed too. you wonder it again and again.
"i'm feeling ansty, argenti. i'm not going to die or somethin', s'okay" you suck in a sharp breath when argenti's face went through ten shades of griefs in five seconds at the solely thought of you getting hurt.
"still, i fear for your well being. i can stay with you as long as you need to." kind, glowing green eyes almost looked apologetic, only cementing the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. you chew the insides of your cheeks until it aches.
"would you?" you ask, trying to ignore the continual light shaking of your hands. you choke up as if displayed before a monstrous live audience, mouth dry and throat bobbing.
of course. obviously. you are his exception, to every rule he'd had made for, for every boundary that was so necessary to never cross. he is argenti, who calls you his rose in such a genuine, proud way that made you feel important, because he always mean it. argenti, who asks about your day but that's neither here nor there when he's looking at you like the moon. argenti, no matter how big and renowned and revered he becomes, he cares for you in every shape and form.
charmed and ensnarled, you made a motion for the man to lean over, which he obliged, and you hold argenti's face with warm hands, palms burning; hot and clammy as your racing pulse pumps wildly, resting on his cheek as your thumb traces little circles. he sighed of bliss, fluttering his lids as if his current placement had been an alleviation to any source of his conflicts.
his expression warmed your heart until overwhelmed. rhythmic pattering of his breath soothed the ache of your head, your eyes almost closed when he started raking his fingers along your own hands. you bring your face closer to targenti's until his forehead collided with your own. it's a kind of comfort, a subtle one, for both.
"it's okay. i need to get back to work and you spread beauty across the cosmos!" your mind run a mile a minute, but the smile hung from your lips didn't falter. argenti looks a little less torn, still holding concern in his eyes.
"i'll always be worrying about you, dear, no matter what..." argenti nuzzles his nose into your crown. "but i do trust you. let us meet up as soon as we are able to."
with a fluttering heart drumming within the swell of your chest, you tossed your hands into the air, throwing your head with a breathy laugh.
"sure!"
the man returned his smile as much as he was physically able to, then he made eye contact with you in front of him one last time.
"please promise me you'll be safe." his expression visibly softens at the contact, smile mirroring yours
"i will, i will."
with one last fond look, the man turns around, his soft, clanking walk following him as he went. emotions were fickle things, and only made a person unstable, irrational.
"uh-huh, and by the way, argenti!" you gulp when you find yourself center of his focus once his head turn around, but your gaze harbors riotous determination. maybe you just want to be irrational for once "i love you"
and he absolutely lights up. his smile is so bright it's nearly blinding, the vibrations of his own laugh almost feel like an earthquake shaking up your heart. and he opens his arms for you to jump in and tugs you closer so he can feel like you are the only one in the world, his whole universe.
"i love you too!."
you already know. and you feel so lucky for it
gepard .ᐟ
you always look like hell. half of the time.
it is certain, considering that you have to try and survive after every day with four hours of sleep and a can of bitterly caffeinated jet fuel masquerading as coffee in one hand. sometimes, it's not always enough for your internal clock.
but that is okay, reall,y. gepard is the coffee you need every night.
especially since the woman working alongside gepard had turned out to be someone your social relations skills could only describe as unpleasant.
especially since you tried to make her understand her advances were useless, the soldiers don't like her, anyway. first with a few exchanged sentences (she ended up spilling coffee to your face and leaving you dripping in the middle of the precinct). then with rather crude gestures of disfavor (which led her to the erroneous assumption that you were somehow envious of her).
it took a long while until you finally snapped and began sabotaging her actively. at some point, it even became more of an amusing pastime that kept your systems sharp and accurate, just like that one candy that keeps annoying bronya to no end because you become a hyperactive-mess.
yes, you exchange her perfume and filling the vial with aftershave, programmed her social media to change every single self-portrait into a prerecorded file of sampo's choice ("pick rick astley!"), messing up the files of smaller files since she hardly ever occupied herself with them, and was prone to making mistakes subsequently.
yes, they were childish pranks yes, you almost got suspended for a month and yes, "you had to pay compensation for the emotional trauma she went through", but selfishly, you were lowkey proud.
somehow, it was the perfect excuse to spend more time near gepard.
there's no one who can brings the light; hangs the stars and moons as if he were not an object of celeste himself other than him. he barely smile, but when he dies, his toothy grin is cheshire, widening and stretching his cheeks as if his elation were uncontainable; contagious.
gepard gives warm hugs and sways back and forth to make you feel better. every time, without asking. ( apparently he developed a sixth sense when it comes to you. captain thing. )
its the sort of problem he hates the most because its not one he can solve with his hands.
so he won't bring what upsets you and even avert his gaze from you, but he'll place his hand on yours, softly rubbing his thumb against your knuckles, and that's when you know it will get better.
he always makes sure, in any case. he hardly sees you during the day, so when he wraps his arms around you and rocks you side-to-side, it can last seconds, long seconds, until you are giggling and shy, and then he lets you go on with your day as if nothing. other times, at home, he likes to tap to whatever song you're listening to on your body while cleaning, or at least he tries to. the beat is always a little off, too fast or not enough; still, it never fails to bring a soft smile to your lips, especially if he's humming along to it too. sometimes you would brag him to dance along with you.
it's silly, most of the time you two bump into each other, but it never fails to cheer you up.
looking at your bright smile as you laughed at one of your own stupid jokes, gepard can't help but feel grateful that you're in his life.
the kids love you as well, even when you say you are not fond of children, as he sees it right now, you're still kneeling down to talk to them because gepard cannot come to a better response when they ask him how to become a captain. you let the kids put stickers in your face and doodle with markers into your arms. you're still laughling when you carry around a little girl like a princess even if you will have a backache afterwards.
a burst of fondness and adoration explodes in his chest, and when the kids leave, gepard is leaning down to press a kiss to your crown. is somewhat tender, the purest expression of his love he can muster. your eyes instantaneously descending towards your shoes as you could no longer hold his gape of admiration as he pulls away, and it turns into an embarrassed chuckle when you meet his face with sleepy eyes and smile.
"you are still here" he says, which it is a shame, as you can only see him between breaks and because you had to keep an eye over the helper.
"i am" you nod, holding out a lunch with one hand. "here, you forgot it."gepard can hardly keep himself from blushing, ocean irises soft and heart swooning as you laugh; seemingly initiating a commencing rise of the sun."did you do it on purpose?"
"i couldn't imagine it."he is suave and he is charming under this moment of vulnerability, under the split second he bares his heart to you, letting you feel his joy with him as his hand finds its way to your waist, holding you as if you were about to shatter.
and you let him, as always. you decided that this is where you'll stayー in gepard's hold, where the heat from his body completely enveloping yours is enough to hush your grief, in which you know you are going to be okay.
in the tiny space you've made for yourself, where you crouched to weep in silence alone, someone has intruded your circle, but it is someone who cares deeply. gepard knows of your pain, and somehow for now, that is enough.
. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪
#honkai star rail x reader#jing yuang x reader#dr ratio x reader#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#boothill x reader#blade x reader#argenti x reader#gepard x reader
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Weird Family
Pairing: Wife!Reader x Mark Webber
Words: 1.1K
Warning: None just fluff
"Ossie,"
Oscar has woken up in different ways before. He wakes up very nicely to his girlfriend, Mark, pouring ice on him when he refuses to train and Lando blaring EDM music in his ears. The mechanics pulled pranks by dropping stink bombs, a flare, and smoke bombs. But Oscar's least favorite way of waking up? The four-year-old currently sitting on his chest and pulling his eyes open.
"Ossie, the sun is up. You said we could play when the sun is up," Oscar groans, as his eyelids are pulled back and met with a little girl with pitch black hair and an Aussie accent. "Ossie, wake up," she whines, starting to get an intense whine in her tone, meaning she is either getting annoyed or getting close to a tantrum. "Willow, what are you doing out of bed?" Oscar groans, rolling over.
Willow yelps but soon giggles as Oscar lays his arm on her, almost smothering the girl. "You said we can play when the sun is up. It's up!" Willow points to the little sliver of orange light coming through. Groaning, Oscar squints at the clock reading 5:13 am. "Good god, it's so early," Oscar whines, but the giggles stop, and he looks down. Willow is silent and cuddles closer to Oscar, who remains patient despite his tiredness.
"Ossie, we take nappy," Willow yawns, her black hair a mess of curls with Oscar leaning up and pulling it into a loose bun. "Okay, we take a small nappy," Oscar whispers, lying back down, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, having never been more grateful that toddlers lose energy quick. The last thing Oscar sees is Willow's cheeks puffing out, which never fails to amuse him.
"Good morning, my little willow snapper," Mark whispers, pushing open his baby girl's room only to be met with a messy, empty bed. "Willow?" Mark asked, looking at his watch. It was 9am, and she rarely woke up this early. But she stayed up super late to welcome Oscar, never missing the chance to see Oscar. Moving the next room over, he pushes it open and sees the mess of black curls under Oscar's covers. Huffing, he shakes his head and closes the door, knowing those two will wake when they feel like it.
"Where's Willow?" Mark chuckles, smiling at you, who glows with your baby bump. She is wearing a soft sundress and has wild and gorgeous hair. "She is currently taking up space in Oscars's bed," your husband explains, walking around the island and kissing you gently. "Really? She was excited when Oscar promised to play with her when the sun was up," Mark chuckles, stealing a strawberry and biting into it.
"I swear, sometimes I think that kid loves him more than me," You roll your eyes as Mark moves closer and turns you to face him, sighing when he feels a little kick from your growing bump. "That's okay, though," Mark whispers, leaning down to kiss when the little thump comes from. Your husband gives off his deep chuckles, making you giggle, the thump coming back in 3 quick kicks. "Well, seems like someone is trying to sleep," You grumble, rubbing a comforting hand over the swell of your stomach.
"Speaking of sleep, I better go wake up our kids," Moving around, Mark, you move down the long hallway and softly knock on the door, being met with Oscar on his phone and Willow now lying over his stomach. "Oscar, breakfast will be ready soon," The young Aussie turns his head and nods. "Okay, should I wake her or you?" Oscar whispers, unsure which would be better. "I think you, me, she'd just give attitude," Oscar can't help but smile and nod, watching as you close the door to the bedroom.
He looks down at the little girl, her hair even messier than before, and chuckles. "Snapper, it's time to get up," Willow whines, not wanting to move as she is far too comfortable. "I think your mother might've made waffles," He smirks as she shoots off and runs into the door; covering his mouth, he tries hard not to laugh. "Open, open!" She jumps around, Oscar climbing out and opening the door, watching as she squeals and the dogs run after her.
"Daddy!" Willow screams. Mark moves quickly and scoops her up before the dogs smash her into the ground, chuckling as she giggles and wiggles in his arms. "Snapper, stop moving; I'm going to drop you." He fake-drops her, and she screams, which makes Oscar laugh. Immediately, Willow reaches out for Oscar, who gladly takes the toddler, balancing her on his hip.
"Ossie, Daddy is being mean," Mark gasps, faking innocence, but stops when you narrow your eyes. I wasn't being mean, darling, I swear," he pleads with you. Still, you turn your head and plate some waffles for your kids. "Kids, breakfast," Your voice is stern as you continue to glare at your innocent husband. Oscar places Willow in her booster seat, ensuring she's comfortable, before sitting in his seat and cutting his waffles.
"Ossie, help," Willow tugs on Oscar's shirt, looking up at him with big eyes. Oscar doesn't think twice and cuts her waffle into small pieces. Oscar is so wrapped up in what he's doing that he doesn't hear the click of Mark's phone taking a picture. "Send that to me," You whisper, Mark already nodding. Oscar groans, pulling out his phone, and Willow makes a noise. "Yucky, Lando," Oscar snorts and swipes up, Lando's face filling his screen.
"Are you alive, man? Last we talked, you said you'd let me know if you made it there safely," Oscar sighs. Lando acted more like an overbearing mother than a teammate. "It's yucky!" Willow points at the phone, and Lando's face drops as he leans in. "Oh, you're with the mini evil Webber," Willow shoves her face into view and opens her mouth with mushy waffles. "Willow Emory Webber, you close your mouth," You snap, your daughter quickly sitting back as Lando cackles. "Dude, you're beefing with a four-year-old." Oscar points out, and Lando stops laughing.
"You think I care? Hands rate E for everyone, man, especially Demon Webber." Mark snatches the phone, and Lando goes quiet. "I will call Jenson. Do you want me to? I can call Zak, too. Tell him you're not doing your proper training. Call my child a demon again. I dare you." You take the phone and smack Mark, who grumbles and smiles sweetly into the phone.
"Lando honey, did Oscar not tell you I invited you too? You're more than welcome to spend some of the summer holidays with us," "Mrs. Webber, with all due respect, your daughter does not like me. I fear for what she'd do to me while I'm sleeping," You giggle and hand the phone back to Oscar, who chuckles, Willow poking her head in view again.
"Yucky, I miss you," Willow adds, and Oscar smiles, ruffling her hair as Lando tries not to smile. Yeah, I miss you too, demon," Lando grumbles. Oscar, your family is weird," he adds. Oscar smiles as Mark and you make faces at Willow, which makes Oscar feel warm inside. Oscar doesn't hear Lando make fun of him because Lando is right—his family is weird.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fiction#f1 fanfiction#f1 fics#f1 fic#f1 x you#mark webber#mark webber x reader#mark webber x you#mark webber x y/n#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri f1#op81#op81 imagine#op81 fic#op81 fluff
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LeafWing tribe sheet!
its over, i finally did them all. sorry this one took a while, ive been losing motivation, but at least its done!! honestly i love leafwings, so im glad i could get them out.
Physical Appearence + Traits:
-LeafWings are arboreal dragons, living in and relying on trees to hunt, shelter and sleep. Their talons are perfectly shaped to comfortably climb and hold onto branches, and their narrow wings allow them to swoop and weave through the trees without crashing.
-LeafWings’ colors, physical traits, and even demeanor shift and change with the seasons. During the summer, their frills and wings are rich green, and scales bright and glossy. They have higher energy and sleep less. During the fall, their colors shift to a warmer spectrum, their leafy frills start to flake off, and they start to prepare for winter. Once winter arrives, they lose their frills, tail-leaf and wing membranes, as well as turning duller and darker. They spend the majority of winter asleep, relying on the trees’ bare branches for camouflage, now rendered flightless. Finally, during spring, they wake up, their colors brighten, and their wing membranes return. The buds that grow along their backs open up and form their spine frills before summer begins.
-LeafWings are lithe and agile, and are very quiet fliers, especially when compared to HiveWings and SilkWings.
-During the summer, with their wings at their fullest, they can actually photosynthesize. They still need to eat food, but anytime they sleep during the day with their wings open to the sun, they wake up energized and not needing to eat for a while after.
-The coloration and shape of LeafWings’ wings varies both by region and individual. Some LeafWings mimic specific types of trees.
-Some LeafWings also have Leafspeak, an ability which allows them to communicate with plants and even control them if powerful enough.
Life Cycle:
-LeafWings hatch in clutches of one or two. They take around 5 months to hatch, and they are deeply reliant on their parents and their wider community. LeafWings are strongly protective of their dragonets. They also grow up somewhat quickly, reaching physical maturity quickly, but they continue to grow in size their entire lives.
-They partner for life, but often only raise one clutch of eggs (sometimes only a single egg) in their lifetime. The tribe is somewhat small as a result.
-LeafWings don’t have an official education system, instead relying on parents, peers and older, more experienced dragons to teach them what they need to know. LeafWings can then go on to pursue whatever tribe role stands out to them, using a sort of mentoring system.
Society and Culture:
-Before LeafWings were split into two groups, the tribe was quite peaceful and unified. The queen, by tradition, always had a council, and they lived nearby and alongside SilkWings. The tribe was known for being friendly and knowledgeable, and deeply dedicated to caring for the forest.
-LeafWings are also very resourceful. From various leaves, grasses, bits of wood, flowers, and insects, they could create baskets and rugs, thin slats of wood to write on, dyes, storage objects, and various weapons and food preparing tools. Learning to make and control fire meant they could progress faster. They were also talented woodcarvers, weavers and artists, sometimes trading not only supplies, but also various art pieces to and from the SilkWings.
-They were expert foragers, and had records of every type of tree, plant and animal in their forest. Many had small gardens of their own - medicinal herbs, spices, and plants they simply found pretty.
-Those with leafspeak were beloved and respected in the tribe, not dissimilar to animus dragons. Sometimes they would mould the shape of trees’ growth to create proper homes and nests for dragons to spend the nights, especially in winter.
-They have tribe-wide celebrations to mark spring, when they all wake from torpor, and the summer solstice, when they are at their highest energy and fullest lives.
-The SapWings, after the tribe was forcibly split, remained very similar culturally, though they lost their ability to trade and had to concentrate on survival in the poison jungle. The PoisonWings, meanwhile, changed dramatically. They became distinctly aggressive and warlike, taking their understanding of plants and animals and weaponizing them. They used the many venoms, poisons and sharp, dangerous objects throughout the jungle to their full advantage. A number of dragons died in the process, but those who survived became stronger.
-LeafWings believe that plants hold some level of consciousness, and some believe that they are animated by fully conscious spirits, each with its own unique consciousness and opinions. Trees are unanimously believed to be extremely wise and benevolent, and as deserving utmost care and respect. They are treated as if they were tribe elders themselves. It was once agreed upon by all leafspeakers that if a tree resisted a request, they were not allowed to make any attempt to force it to do what they wanted. Leafspeakers would also be used to make requests before cutting off any part of the tree to use - if it refused, it would be left alone. (It isn’t hard to imagine the way they felt when the entire forest was cut and burned down by the HiveWings.)
Diet: Omnivorous. LeafWings eat meat (birds, rodents, sometimes large mammals and reptiles), sometimes raw, sometimes cooked, and also a wide variety of plants, fruits and nuts. Because of the versatility of their diet, they have a great number of meals they like to prepare, usually garnished with herbs, spices and sweeteners like honey and certain types of tree sap.
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Well, I promised context to anyone who begged sweetly, and that’s sweet though for me. (I say as if I haven’t been dying to rant about them for weeks.)
The short story: The Target, aka Din, is the assassination target of Father Kilter’s adopted revenant kid, Pigeon. If Din dies, both they and Pidge will rot in an existence worse than hell, as the unjust death and necromancy magic fuses their souls together in eternal agony. Kilter stays in contact with Din via Sending and Dream spells to keep the two apart (and manages to steal their heart by being wet and pathetic and teaching them how to care).
The full story (buckle the fuckle up):
So. The Target. They have what we’ll call a… justified god complex. As the self-appointed harbinger of truth, they run around exposing secrets and toppling corrupt governments for the betterment of the world. Unfortunately, this makes them public enemy number one. So what did they do to keep themself safe?
Trade away their face, of course.
The Target bargained with Truth itself. They would give it their long-lived service, in exchange for the power to mete out justice and a face that cannot be remembered. The moment you look away, you forget it.
Now their enemies have a new problem to contend with. How do you kill someone who can’t be found or even identified? The answer comes in the form of a revenant: a being so hellbent on killing one person, it always knows their target’s position, regardless of what magic is used to hide them. And this target is so important to eliminate that a necromancy cult artificially manufactures one to go after them.
Enter Pidge.
For a while, the only thing Father Kilter could do when the Target got too close was hold Pigeon as they scratched and stabbed and clawed, trying to bring about their own end as well as some random stranger’s. He had no idea who the target was, no way to contact them and keep them far, far away from his kid, no way to keep them safe—so he jumped at the chance to spy on them when they happened to pass within viewing distance.
One poorly-timed hunting snare later, and Kilter was left hanging upside down, before their horse, at their mercy.
Luckily they seemed inclined to have mercy. Despite Kilter’s terrible attempts at lying and generally suspicious nervous energy, their curiosity was piqued. They let him down. They joined him for some wine, even, introducing themself as “Din”. The two had a chat that started with each trying to subtly pick the other apart, and ended with Kilter completely losing that battle—so desperate for a semblance of help and genuine connection, that he spilled his backstory and his secrets to this literally faceless stranger. All they had to do was touch his knee and say “you aren’t alone” and he was FINISHED. In the end, he had no choice but to trust that they had good intentions and the means with which to act upon them.
That’s where things are at in the canon campaign. Outside of that, @couchtaro and I have been going FERAL over future things such as:
Kilter finally being able to touch someone bare-handed in their shared Dreamscape
Them providing Kilter a place to sleep without being haunted by Pestilence’s manipulative nightmares, and it somehow devolving into cuddles
To get around the face enchantment, Kilter reading the arch of their nose and brow and lips like braille, memorizing the shape of their scar so that he can recognize them by touch
The Target’s myriad 14-foot thick, adamantium emotional barriers getting blasted to itty bitty pieces by Kilter fixing their blood-loss-induced hypothermia with his own body heat
They’re so suspicious of each other right now. Little do they know they’re in for a rollercoaster of learning what it means to love, and by proxy what it means to live. Thanks for asking @booksandberries!
#d&d#dnd#dungeons & dragons#Ironsworn#ocs#and now you all know why their name is#din mctarget#father kilter#pigeon#pidge#dead on revival#corvid crows#I’m normal.
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Remember when we used to say that Mc’s the therapist for everyone around here but who’s going to give Mc therapy before they go insane themselves? (probably already are)
THIRTEEN IS.
THIRTEEN IS.
THATS RIGHT.
PLEASE PLEASE I WANT TO MARRY HER NOW AHHH
SHE MADE ME SO HAPPY I CANT TAKE IT
#obey me#obey me nb#obey me nightbringer spoilers#I didnt write down spoilers because there’s not really context#BUT#I LOVE HER#BE MY WIFE FOR THE 100TH TIME#SHE WAS SO SWEET IN THE LESSON#obey me thirteen#just my head internal screaming I think I should let out#and go to sleep before I lose the energy to even sleep#literally 4 am currently
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next semsester i got a 2 hour 15 minute gap between my art and philosophy class oh my god imma be camping out on campus again😭
#its kinda a vibe doe!! ESP IN SUMMER OMFG#YESHAHHHHHH hopefully its still warm.. when do next the semsetr start ackautlalyu#ok. agust.. eyebroe raise..#maybe but idk. i mean. at least ill have time to cool down from that 3 hour art class LOL#im lkinda excited.. its just an elective credit but lacey said its fun!!!!!!!! i trust him bro is an art major..#all classes start at 9am tho ithink imaybe ill just kill myslef#shit man. ugh.. even on days i dont bring my sister to school imma have to wake up at 8am.. bluhgh#itsok i did 9am classes before ic an do it. HYPING MYSELF UP IC AN DO IT.#ayeeee all classes done by noon on mw is NICE. thats the perks ig#u get there early as fawk but u get out early as fawk#i cant decide what is better for me :/ obvs i like sleeping till 11am like how i did this semster but. then i dont get home till like 2-4pm#(depending on the day but yeah)#but like the other smetser when i had 9ams... my ass was HOME BEFORE NOON. HOME AT 11AM SOME DAYS? THATS CRAZY#and id jsut go the fuck to sleep 😭#but. my energy drink consumption was worse. i was dirnking lots in the mornings. now im drinkning em in the night#lose lose ig#hollowspeak
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Rumors have it that our boss wants to crack down on us chilling and sitting when there is 0 customers in the store and instead spent that time productively or at least studying for more work related stuff and not use the fucking half hour(other than break time) to just think and do nothing for the moment
I need to thank him because this honestly pushed me back into prioritizing looking into different fields beyond what I've already done anyway
#txts#look i got burnt out juggling both#then got it evened out by studying other stuff on work-time#but rn its rly fucking busy so i cant do that#so all i really do when i go home is sleep#pls ignore the piles of dishes and laundry i swear i'll get to them some time before the world ends#but i do simply not have the energy for that shit#i am now at least spending my half hour waiting for food to be done in the oven or fryer or whatever and checking resources#for anything remote work wise rly lol#its not gonna be possible to change quick and the time for finding another trainign...entry...Ausbildung#for this year has passed rly#BUT#working on it#slowly...and so so tiredly#but better than also losing my late 20s or 30s to just shit#i AM stubborn enough to keep wading through#but i do also want better
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Why go to bed early, when you can't bring yourself to wake up early anyway
#gonna rant#i am 💫staring at the ceiling💫#kind of hate this#was studying but then I got to the end of the part I decided I would do today so suddenly I couldn't bring myself to continue#even if I had the energy for it#but I couldn't bring myself to do any other activity as well#because I should have been studying or because everything felt too time or energy consuming I guess?#so obviously the best solution was to just stare in space trying to decide what to do#which led me to lying on my bed staring at the ceiling#why don't you just go to sleep then you might ask#what are you even suggesting? that I either get up before 7 or that I sleep more than 7 hours??#because I know that 7 hours seems to be the amount of sleep most likely to make me feel a little rested#(no more and no less. but it's summer so it's even harder to get up and I feel horribly when I do)#and because getting up before 7 feels so early and what am I gonna do with all that time??#(my productivity is at its worse in the morning and somehow I end up losing so much time with literally nothing)#i hate this#you know that post I made about wanting to shake myself by the shoulders#yeah#why the fuck do I have to find a problem in anything#and I get anxious if I get up after 8 because that as well feels like I'm wasting time#I'm not tired enough to fall asleep quickly and I can't bring myself to do anything and and-#plus my brother is also going to wake up early tomorrow cause he has some extra classes in school#so I'm gonna be slowed down in my waking up routine if we get up at the same time#i guess I'll try to sleep and be bothered that I'll take too much time#hopefully if I got to bed earlier and my alarms are set for earlier I'll manage to get up at just the right time#funny cause I am interrupting my wangxian queue with my ranting#IF I HAD JUST BOUGHT THE RIGHT PEARLS I COULD HAVE BEEN MAKING MY CHOKER BUT NOO#maybe it is truly just that that messed up my plans#vaneggiando#rereading the tags and they make no sense great 💀
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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna#soft sukuna#i love bastardizing sukuna in my fics#also this is totally leading me into a part 2 w reincarnated reader#yes weve heard it a thousand times#idc it makes me happy
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I didn't know we could request readers getting hurt. In that case can I request the hotels cast reaction to dogday reader getting the game dogday treatment as an exterminator cuts them in half. Like game dogday they're still alive but ouchy
TW: GORE AND BLOOD MENTIONS (not detailed but it’s there)
HAZBIN HOTEL X DOGDAY! READER
prompt: during the fight against the Angels, you let your guard down at the wrong moment…..
You used your 8ft frame and to slap and crush the angels as Angel dust shoots the angel from your shoulder as husk throw explosive dice and sharp spade cards around you three. It was a good them effort as you had his stomped out an Angel with your huge paw. You were helping the hotel defend against the angels as you never saw this actually coming.
You heard a whimper seeing one of the egg boiz be chased by an angel as you ran over and crushed the angel’s head in your paw that had angelic metal in it. The egg boi immediately cuddled up to you as you picked it up.
You must have been so worried that you didn’t noticed an angel behind you and the egg. But it was too late as the egg boi’s eyes widen seeing an exterminator behind the two of you.
You felt a stab in your abdomen as you looked down to see an angelic spear stab you. You felt blood trickle down your mouth as it burned inside of you.
A piercing scream rang out the battle field as you felt you lose the strength seeing blood pour out. Your friends perk up at that knowing scream of yours. Charlie looks down from the roof with her father to see what was going on. She gasped covering her mouth lookin at you. The angel takes the spear out of you as she slashes your body in half.
Your upper and lower body collided to the ground and blood spill from your mouth hearing foot steps and an evil laughter as you heard someone’s voice. “DONT WORRY! WE’RE COMING SUNNY!” It was all muffled due to the blood loss as you couldn’t hear who it even was.
Blood filled your nose, screams, the feeling of blood loss, and the sounds of bombs blowing up. It all rang in your ears as the last thing you see is the angel who cut you being shot. Before you passed out.
You wake up seeing the crew look down relieved but some had a disturbed face as you tried to move your “legs”…..
Your legs….wait….
You look down to see your bottom half to be gone only to se a bandaged half. Your eyes widen shaking as the white pupils of your eyes disappear. You sob painfully looking down as your dog ears over your face. Charlie covers her mouth seeing your sadness at the lost of your legs as she hugs you .
Angel and husk joins as well as the other as they all crowed you trying to show that they are here for you. You felt loved, but what will you do now…….
Months has passed and you are in a wheel chair. At the loss of your legs, it’s like you became a new person who doesn’t smile much but still grant a smile towards a friend who needs one. You have the slight scent of vanilla but mixed with blood due to the blood in your body at times. Your voice also had changed as the scream you let out ruined your normal vocal cord. So now you sound a little depressed.
But still Charlie helps you to walk with you using your arms. You got the hang of it quickly but you’re use to the wheelchair since it doesn’t take your energy away.
Angel helps you move around in your wheel chair as he makes joke with you as you smile or with either grumble jokingly at his dirty jokes.
Lucifer, he’s trying to find a way to heal you as he feels like he failed to protect you. One of his own people. Even his own friend that he felt like you were as you always was friendly to other and him.
Alastor lets you sleep in your wheel chair as he plays soft jazz in your room or if you want to listen to his radio broadcast
Husk still snuggles again you but not like a cat in your lap type snuggle. Nah he just lays down with you on the couch as you snore while he purrs.
Niffty decorated your wheel chair to your liking as she smiles seeing your grateful smile as she hugs your fluffy arm.
#dogday#dogday x reader#dogday poppy playtime#hazbin hotel x dogday! reader#hazbin hotel x poppy playtime#dogday! reader#hazbin hotel x female reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x platonic!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin lucifer#hazbin charlie#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel angels#hazbin hotel imagine#crossover#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#hazbin hotel exterminators#hazbin hotel exorcists
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toji x nympho reader 🤭
⟣ tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut. overstimulation, creampies, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, daddy kink, slight slapping, cum play, blowjobs, thigh riding, fingering, positions mentioned; cowgirl, doggy. he’s mean sometimes teehee. reader gets called ‘doll & princess’. separate headcanons + small drabbles under cut.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was sure of it; no woman could ever keep up with his stamina or libido. he was surprisingly proven wrong when he met you—your sexual desires were almost too much to keep up with. that last statement goes for the average man, at least.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was no regular man at all. in many ways. and especially when it comes to sex and all that it comes with. with all his experience, he knew just the right techniques to satisfy a woman and keep her entertained for a long time. plus, his stamina and size were no joke due to his constant training and bulky physique.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 never misses on the opportunity of satisfying your needs. you could wake him up at 3 a.m with the question if he could help with you with a certain ‘problem’ and he’ll grunt—surely—but doesn’t hesitate to roll over on his back and let you pull his boxers down whilst encouraging you to ride him in an exhausted manner.
“c’mon, weren’t you the one asking if you could fuck y’rself on my cock? ya either do it right or get off.” mean as always. but somehow, it increased the pleasure you were feeling already—that hoarse, raspy morning voice of toji’s echoes in your ear with each sentence uttered. it was even hotter when he’d grunt or groan under his breath. toji had one hand on your ass, squeezing or lazily spanking it whenever your hips slammed down on his. his other arm was draped over his eyes, keeping them closed since he was in the mood to continue sleeping—basically half-asleep, in contrast to your energy filled body which was riding his cock continuously. “mhmm, jus’ like that. fuck y’rself dumb on my dick, princess.”
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 knows you get turned on very easily just from him doing the most simplest of things. what really gets you going is his body—the way his big, masculine hands knead at the flesh on your waist whenever he hugs you from behind, the veins running through them making your pussy tingle. . or when he stretches and warms up in your bedroom before going on a mission—that makes you rub your thighs together. and you make it known that you’re turned on by him just by looking at him with those seductive eyes.
and 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 can’t deny that your horniness awakens his.
ass up, face down—your body was getting pounded into the bed by none other than toji, who was fed up with the constant lustful looks you gave him whilst he worked out. it made him lose all concentration, which wasn’t good, since he needed to prepare for a bounty he was going to take on that night. thus, toji took out his frustrations on you and your greedy cunt; “ya hear that? y’re fuckin’ dripping for this cock to fill ya up—yeah? wan’ me to fuck some of my cum into y’r cunt before i go?” you whine and nod whilst your noises were muffled by the pillow. your body ached for toji and you were desperate to get anything from him, any sensual touches would do—your pussy was sensitive and needed its release. toji knew that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just one round, however, so he was determined to go make it a challenge: fuck you until you’re leaking his cum from all your holes and passed out from exhaustion.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 loves it when you shamelessly or shyly beg him to suck his dick. you do it most of the time when he’s manspreading on the couch, just chilling and looking bored whilst watching a dumb show on the television. next thing he knows your head appears between his legs and his fingers are tangled in your hair, pushing your head down on him. sometimes it even happens in public; he’ll be sitting there on a chair or bench, a protective hand on your waist and your eyes would be directly on his crotch. he doesn’t even have to be hard—there’s always that massive bulge hiding under his pants, reminding you of what he’s packing down there.
“fuck. . doll—y’re gnna make me cum before i get a taste of that pretty pussy.” toji grumbles quietly, half closed eyes staring down at your kneeling form. you were sucking and drooling all over his cock, sometimes gagging when the tip hit the far back of your throat, though that only spurred the man before you on. his hips buck up into your mouth, your hands automatically clenching into fists, putting your thumb under your other fingers to stop your gag reflex from activating—desperate to give toji that pleasure he longed for. the man was surely enjoying every second of it. he kept you quiet (except for the faint wet, slurping sounds from your warm mouth as his cock slid in and out of it), his lips curled into an amused smirk, “tha’s my girl—taking all of it in her mouth. what a good little thing.” toji made sure to whisper those words, not caring if somebody heard what was happening from outside the department store’s bathroom stall, but still wanting to avoid any unnecessary trouble. he was actually holding himself back from ravaging your cunt instead—though he settles for shooting ropes of cum down your throat.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who gets off from eating you out. he loves to have your cunt full out on his face—adores the way you squirm when he’s pushing your thighs and hips down on his face to get a proper taste of your slick—enjoys when he’s just relaxing with his mouth and nose stuffed between your folds, giving absent licks whilst simply enjoying your scent. he especially loves eating your cunt out when you’re begging for his cock instead. he always shows you just what he can do with that tongue of his—bringing you a different type of pleasure than his dick could do.
one moment you were reading something on your phone, and in the other your man’s face was buried into your wet cunt. you were moaning and writhing on the bed sheets, trying to grind against his mouth. toji was taking his sweet time with you, “mmnh, so fuckin’ good. give me one more, yeah? one more orgasm f’me, princess.” that was what he said minutes ago and you were already on your third climax. you loved this—absolutely relinquished in the feeling of his tongue lapping your juices up, his lips that sucked on your clit every couple seconds, nose buried between your folds. “nghhh,, wan’ you so bad, daddy! wan’ you to fuck me, please!” toji chuckles drlyly, the vibrations hitting your cunt. two slaps were brought down upon your thighs; “i’ll fuck y’r needy self when i wanna, ya hear? now cum on my tongue or i’ll force it outta ya, princess.”
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who loves to finger you or let you ride his thigh when he’s busy but still wants to keep you satisfied. you’d be whining for his attention, pouting and slightly frustrated when all you want toji’s attention. and his touch, naturally. sometimes you’d go as far as stroking yourself in front of him to show your desperation— which he finds to be the hottest thing ever; you being so needy that you’ll thrust a few fingers inside your cunt and moan for him to come fuck you properly. works every time. but when toji’s a bit too busy to do anything (or too tired / lazy), he gets you off with his thigh or fingers.
“i need to call shiu for info on that one bounty. .” toji recalls and grabs his phone, one hand on his mobile whilst the other was slowly cupping your pussy, thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit, index rubbing your labia. you whine as his hand there disappears, “gimme a minute, sweet thing.” toji licks his index finger whilst pressing some buttons on his phone, head leaning against the headboard of the bed as he watches you impatiently grind against his muscular thigh. he lets you do as you please and watches your ass and hips as they move in front of him. toji tenses the muscles in his leg whenever your clothed pussy slides alongside his skin, bouncing his thigh whenever you’d rest and take a break from grinding—keeping the stimulation going— “giving me a good show, huh? keep at it. might reward ya after my phone call.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x you#toji x you
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ KISS IT BETTER — GETO SUGURU.
contents. post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru has nightmares :(, chest kissies for sugu <3, reader lays on top of him, like very cheesy banter my bad
suguru gets nightmares—it’s expected, but it’s not easy. it breaks your heart—very painfully so—every time he jolts up with frantic eyes and labored breaths.
he tries to shake you off and pretend he’s fine the first few times, but by the time it’s happened enough, he resigns himself to letting you handle things, just like you always do.
it’s easier when you handle things—he’s starting to realize that more.
“another one?” you mumble through a yawn, sitting up and hugging him from behind as your cheek rests on his bare back. he grunts, hunched over with his head in his hands.
“‘s okay,” he says quietly, “you can go back to sleep.”
“we both know i’m not doing that, suguru,” you hum, palm rubbing slow circles into his abs. he sighs, melting into your touch eventually as he leans against you, head falling back to lay on your shoulder.
“sorry,” he whispers, “i didn’t wanna wake you.”
“i wish you would,” you hum, tracing his nose delicately as you kiss the side of his head, “i wish you’d let me help, baby.”
“you already help enough,” he mutters—almost bitterly, you note, “i don’t need to make you lose sleep over it.”
“you’d do the same for me,” you say gently, “wouldn’t you?”
“of course,” he says instantly.
sometimes, suguru is too kind for the world. it tramples him and leaves him curled on the floor under its cruelty. sometimes, he gives too much and forgets to take, to ask, and it’s starting to show. it’s starting to pile up and become too much and you think, just for once, someone should give to suguru too—because he deserves it.
“it’s a two way street, y’know,” you smile against his temple, “wake me up next time. please?”
“you really wanna see me at my lowest, huh?” he tries to crack a joke and dodge the question—but you know suguru, and you know what he needs. sometimes before he knows himself, even.
“everyone needs someone in their lowest, baby,” you mumble, “it helps more than you think.”
it’s silent for a bit. it’s like that more often than not with suguru these days—he’s silent, prefers the quiet and tender moments alone with you when you happen to catch them. he doesn’t have the energy to talk, and you don’t make him, and he’s grateful. he’s grateful when your fingers weave into his hair and your lips find his cheek, when you’re content with laying your head on his chest and just being there as he thinks.
you look down as he lays against you, his back to your chest and his body slotted between your legs, resting in your hold. it’s silent—he doesn’t always want to talk, and you don’t make him.
and he’s grateful.
finally, he breaks the silence first. “i felt it all over again,” he mumbles, “the…on my…”
his hand instinctively covers his chest, and you know what he means—he doesn’t have to finish, doesn’t have to say anything else before you press a tender kiss to his head. suguru doesn’t have scars on his chest. shoko’s reverse cursed technique heals well enough that the scars on his chest don’t remain even a little. it’s almost like it never happened—no proof of the x shaped slashes from blades to his chest.
but suguru can still feel his skin slicing sometimes—in fact, he thinks he can never forget it.
“hmm,” you think out loud, “well, there’s only one remedy for this i’m afraid.”
he looks up and raises a brow, staring at you before you crawl from under him, letting him plop down against the pillows as your body turns to hover over his.
“what are you—”
“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to his chest, starting from his collarbone before continuing in a diagonal line down the rest of his sternum. he can’t help but let his lips slowly widen into a smile with each one, letting out a soft chuckle when you tickle the skin slightly. “i read somewhere that kisses are really good for healing,” you murmur.
“ah yes, your doctorate from webmd is really coming in handy,” he teases, grinning when your lips press against his collarbone once more, on the other side this time as you peck along his chest in another diagonal line. it’s silly, a little pointless even—the wounds have long healed and you can’t even be sure you’re kissing where the scars would be, but suguru seems to brighten considerably with every touch of your lips.
it’s enough.
“well, my handsome patient,” you say cheekily, “did that help?”
“oh yes,” he nods dramatically, “i feel better than ever. thank god i have a gorgeous doctor like you.”
“hmm, i am rather gorgeous,” you brighten, giggling as he pulls you down by the wrist to kiss you softly. his hands are on your cheeks, cupping your face delicately as you hum against his mouth. “better?” you ask pulling away, pecking the corner of his mouth.
he nods, wrapping two strong arms around you as you lay over his body, grinning up at you.
“better,” he assures, “they should let you open up your own clinic. you’d put the hospitals out of business.”
“but suguru,” you gasp, “then i would have to kiss random men—surely you can’t let that happen!”
“you’re right,” he plays along, eyes widening in faux concern, “i can’t. i guess i’ll have to be your only patient.”
you smile at him—it’s radiant enough to clear the dark clouds of his shoulders, gentle enough that he feels the hardened parts of him start to go soft just a little. sometimes, suguru gets nightmares—they’re not easy, but you make them feel a lot less impossible.
it’s enough.
“what a waste of my higher education,” you sigh, “but fine. you’ll be the only one i kiss better.”
“i’m so grateful,” he snorts, pulling the blanket over your bodies as he holds you close.
sleep comes easier that night—and every night after.
i’ve decided to give this lil healing sugu series a tag so it’s: #operation: heal suguru! and you can click the tag below on this post to read the earlier drabbles !!
anyway unseen footage from this moment is that i actually sucked his tiddies as i kissed his chest. bc lord knows he just needed his tiddies sucked and he’d have been 100% happier and fine
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#operation: heal suguru!#geto x reader#geto x you#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru x you#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Napping and Cooking
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Straw hat!reader
Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Straw hat!reader, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Arlong
Warnings: Fluff, fighting, the asshole Arlong, Sanji being subtlety flustered, you take lots of naps, Sanji being adorable as hell, everyone worrying over you, protect Nami plan is a go, Sanji being like a boyfriend but nothing's official
Word Count: 1,849
A/N: Reader sleeps a lot because her abilities take up a lot of her energy.
Reader also had a lot of hair and it sometimes gets in their face so she has to flip their head upside down and then back up or run their hand through their hair to see.
Reader has a jacket like Mihawk but it goes down to her knees otherwise she'll trip
This man... is something else
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You enter the restaurant and slip past the host in search of your crew. You can hear Luffy and know exactly where they are. You stand in front of the table, "you guys ditched me."
"You were still sleeping," says Luffy.
"You didn't wake me up," you tell them with a pout.
"We tried to," Nami tells you.
"You’re the one that wouldn’t wake up," Zoro adds, glancing at you; wondering if you’ll even make it through the meal.
-
Sanji glances your way and notices your figure standing in front of an unattended table.
He admires your jacket as he heads over.
-
"Fine, you tried. Now move over, stretchy." You try to move him only to fail, which your captain laughs at. You roll your eyes and walk over him, Usopp being kind enough to scooch over, so you have room.
You sit at the top of the booth. You didn't realize it, but you zoned out until Nami smacked your leg. Your jaw drops as you rub the spot. "Ow. Was that necessary?"
She gestures to the blond standing in front of the table.
"And for the madam?"
"What are we doing?"
Nami and Zoro roll their eyes.
"We're ordering our drinks," Usopp tells you.
"Ah, right. Water."
"And would the madam like stilled, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
The corner of your lip twitches. "Well, aren’t we sweet? You want to please all the ladies you, see?"
His head drops, he glances at the ground before looking back up, staring at you through his lashes and hair. "Only the ones who entice me with their beauty."
"I'll let you surprise me."
"Excellent choice, madam. You will not be let down."
"I know I won't."
"What was that?" Zoro asks.
"What?" You turn to him.
He starts rattling off everything Sanji said.
"He was being polite."
"To you," the orange haired girl mutters.
"Huh?"
"He only called me madam once and then you stole his attention. Clearly there was something about you that caught his eye."
"I don’t think so."
Every single kind of water he offered was brought to the table.
-
After Zoro loses the battle and the head chef along with the blond come in to help him, you two start talking each time he's here.
"I smell food," you lean against the doorway.
He chuckles, "I would certainly hope so. You're the only one who hasn't eaten. Are you worried that worried about your friend?"
"Of course, I'm worried about the idiot but not enough to lose too much sleep over him. My abilities take up a lot of my energy and sleeping helps me. I was napping."
He nods, "ah, now that makes sense." He glances up from the ingredients he grabbed. "Would you like to eat something?"
You nod, "I would, kind of why I came down here."
"I know. How do you feel about exposing your palate to an array of flavors?"
"I think I made a mistake."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Nonsense. I'm going to make you an unforgettable meal."
-
You were up on the roof when Argon and his crew entered.
You secure the rope around your waist before jumping down. "Why are you picking on people less than half your size?"
"Who are you?"
"Someone who's already kicked your bony nosed ass."
He growls, realizing who you are.
"You want to fight someone? Fight me," you smirk. "I'm a better opponent than stretchy." You tug at the rope, rolling it up. "Come on, then. Try to hit me."
He comes at you, and you dodge him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He growls before his hand clamps down on your jacket (something you made sure happened on purpose).
"Don't touch my jacket."
"Why? You gonna cry if I do."
"No," you grab his hand and twist his wrist, "you might. Clone shift."
He's baffled at the sight of him, standing before him. "Stop it. Turn back."
"Nope."
He and Luffy are outside before you can stop him.
"Hey, you two idiots."
His crew turns to you, eyes widening at the sight of their captain even though he just walked out the door.
You punch the two of them hard enough for them to roll on the dock outside the restaurant.
-
You walk over to check on Sanji and Usopp, the former taking a big hit on his back.
"Are you two-" you groan and hold onto the railing as you shift back to yourself.
Blood catches the story teller's eye. "Did you take some of Zoro's cut?"
All the pain in his body left him as the blond urges forward to catch you.
"So, what? It's nothing. I can take it."
"You overexerted yourself enough already. Come on," Sanji says, helping you up.
"Are we going to help Luffy?"
"We are, you're not."
You let out a small disagreeing noise.
"Don't argue with me."
-
You all catch the sight of the energetic captain falling into the water and rush over.
Sanji's quicker than you and takes action. He throws off his shirt and jacket before diving in.
You force yourself to stay awake and not pass out.
His head pops up back in the surface.
Usopp helps haul the rubber man onto the dock.
You hold a handout for the chef, but he doesn't take it. "Where's Nami?"
"She's gone. She's apart of Arlong's crew," Usopp tells Luffy.
Sanji's body slumps down, his butt resting on the heels of his feet.
Dots cloud your vision and your feet sway, you knew the second you cloned, you were done.
Sanji and Usopp catch you before you could fall.
The blond man leaning down to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're- "She's still breathing."
"She," Luffy takes a deep breath, his voice coming out scratchy. "She did too much."
"We need to get you two back on your ship."
-
You wake up and find yourself in your room.
You sit up, finding no one else here.
You grab your jacket and make your way to the kitchen.
-
"He convinced you?"
Sanji jumps, not expecting you to be awake. "Are you hungry?"
You nod and slowly make your way over to the couch. "No objections. I'll take whatever the chef makes."
"That can get dangerous if you say that to the wrong person."
"Good thing I'm just talking to you."
The corner of his lips twitch as gets back to work.
"Hey, I just-" Usopp smiles when he sees you here. "You're up. How're feeling?"
"Hungry and tired."
"The usual, cool. I wasn't worried, at all." He stops in front of the chef. "What's new on today's menu?"
"Not for you."
He gasps, "rude. I fought in that battle too, you know."
"You crawled away like a bug being found under a log."
He whines when you out him.
The other two enter the kitchen.
Zoro glances at you, "you're an idiot."
"Way to make a girl feel special asshole."
"You're going to have a scar."
"You're welcome for making sure you don't die because of your own mistake, moron."
He leans against the wall, watching over everyone.
Luffy stretches his arms out to hug you, letting his body slam into you. "You're awake. Are you okay? You passed out. Is that always normal?"
Usopp smacks the captain, "get off her. She just woke up, you're not helping."
"Food is ready."
"Time to eat!"
"No," Sanji smacks Luffy with the dish towel. "The lady gets hers first."
You stick your tongue out at your friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
"Other than my good looks."
The green haired man rolls his eyes, "would you stop flirting and feed the idiot before he steals the food."
"Not until the lady gets hers."
"The lady will be fine."
"You call yourself a man. A true man would make sure-"
You flick the two of them on their foreheads. "Shut up."
You give Luffy and Usopp their bowls, "eat you animals."
-
"Oh, we told the town of your sacrifice," you explain to Nami.
"We didn't know. Could you ever forgive us?" The guard asks.
"This is going to be a massacre," the orange haired girl says.
"For them," you crack your knuckles. "I got this."
Usopp thins his lips, "I don't think so. You're just gonna lose consciousness again."
"Why don't I knock you unconscious?"
Sanji steps forward and pulls you off the side. "Excuse her, she was woken up from a nap." He covers your ears. "She's cranky."
You smack his hands off you.
-
You sit on the wall, watching as everyone fights. It was the smart move, save more of your energy.
It was only when they started bad mouthing Nami that you really started getting fired up. "Woah! Hey! Hey!" You grab a rock and throw it at the fishman's head. "Don't bad mouth my friend!"
Sanji removes his jacket without removing his gaze.
"Now you've done it," Zoro mumbles.
You jump down and walk towards the green haired man.
Sanji doesn't stop until the fishman has been taken care of.
Zoro judges the chef, with him calling out his finishing move.
"Ignore him. You did good, Sanji."
He lowers his head, unable to respond to your comment.
Zoro shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with his pining.
Usopp makes his way back to you.
"Nice of you to join us."
The storyteller smiles. "Yeah, just- uh- wish I didn't miss so much of this."
You glance at Zoro and raise a brow, both of you knowing that he doesn't mean it.
The green haired man just gives him a look of disappointment.
Nami runs away from the deteriorating building and glances back over her shoulder. She turns back and runs towards you guys.
Sanji opens his arms with a smile, "Nami!"
She ignores him and throws her arms around the second in command and storyteller.
You offer him a sorry look before turning around at the sound of her calling your name. "Are you okay?" You ask.
Instead of replying she throws her arms around you, holding you tightly. "Thank you."
"Why?"
"You and Luffy gave me something I never thought I could have."
You smile. "Alright kid, get off me." You wipe her under eyes, making sure no one knew how much she was crying. You pat Sanji's shoulder, "she just doesn't know you yet."
"That would make sense."
"Where's Luffy?"
"He's still in there, fighting Arlong."
You huff, "why can't he wait for help?" You groan and start to take a step forward when they stop you.
The chef grabs your wrist and pulls you back. "Nope."
"Are you nuts?" Usopp asks. "I mean seriously. You want to fight that fishman?!"
"I'm not going to let Luffy-" The building collapses. "Great! My oldest friend is-"
"Nami! We are you're friends! We are your crew!"
"Still alive! Yay!" You jump up and down before throwing yourself into the blond's arms.
"Look who finally got their hug."
"Shut up, Nami."
Continue to: Part II
#one piece#one piece live action#one piece netflix#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece imagine#one piece imagines#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji imagine#sanji imagines#sanji fanfic#sanji fanfiction#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x you#crazyk-imagine
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How do you think Alastor would react to being called cute, hot etc.along those lines
Like how would it make him feel? Pre-Wifey. Like it’s Wifey, but she ain’t wifey yet lol
Wifey rizzing up her man??? 👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Alastor being TORTURED, Reader has that WIFE energy, Alastor thinks about killing someone
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor was a confident man who prided himself on not being taken unawares by anything or anyone
The keyword is was
But meeting you and getting to know you has completely caught him off guard because he's FALLING for you
He knew you were a dangerous woman, but he didn't realize just what sort of danger he was in
In danger of losing his HEART~
He couldn't help it, you were beautiful and witty along with a number of other fantastic qualities/talents
And when you smiled at him it made him freeze in his tracks, even the simplest eye contact made him feel flushed
But then you opened your mouth and actually spoke to him which made things so much more difficult
"You look good today, Alastor~ Did you do something different? Very debonair~"
He wonders if you're torturing him like this on purpose, if you know how he feels about you
But he does his best to remain unfazed, or at least not let you see how your words affect him
"I can't say I've done anything new, but I appreciate that someone around here notices my good looks~"
Your soft laugh makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost blushes when your fingers play with the ends of his hair
"I always notice you, Alastor."
He's at least able to wait until you leave the room to suddenly collapse on a table, steam coming out of his ears as he clutches at his chest
He would be insanely jealous if you acted this way with anyone else but you seem to reserve it all for him, something he's secretly grateful for
Even when you're drunk, you always seem to find a way to make him fluster
Alastor finds you at the bar, cheeks pink from the alcohol in your system, talking to the bartender about something
Or someone
"-he's just so handsome..! I can't get over it-"
Alastor takes a seat next to you, cutting off some random guy from taking the seat in hopes of getting an easy mark out of you
"Who's handsome now?"
He's totally not asking because he's jealous, or trying to figure out who he's going to hunt down and ki-
You hiccup and give him a drunken smile, leaning in to get in his face, which immediately makes his heart race
"You are~ Hand...some~"
Alastor can feel the heat rushing up to his face as you poke his nose before clumsily leaning back to get your drink
Okay, you've definitely had enough to drink
"I think you've had enough for tonight, let's get you home, my dear."
You whine and pout as he drags you out of the bar, only complying when he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady
He hopes that you're too drunk to remember the way he blushes the entire way home with you, holding you tight
It doesn't help that you're so snuggly when you're drunk, nuzzling your head under his chin
He almost explodes when he manages to pry you off of him and lay you down on your bed only for you to stare at him with glassy eyes
"Mm...that's hot...you're so hot~"
He rubs his hand over his face in an effort to hide the embarrassing choked sound that escapes him
"Please... just go to sleep..."
He's less sure that you're messing with him when you say things like that while drunk out of your mind
Your worst attacks are the sneak attacks that come out of nowhere for him, making it painfully obvious how much he feels for you
He's eating when you suddenly come in, rolling your eyes as you sit next to him, listening to all the little noises he makes as he eats
He can't help it, the food is delicious~
You suddenly grab a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, giving him a small smile
"You're cute, you know that?"
He almost chokes on his food, your words along with the physical touch making his mind go blank
"C-cute!?"
Fuck, his voice cracked, making him blush uncontrollably as you obviously try not to laugh at him
"Ahem! Cute is not a proper word to describe me, I am many things, but cute isn't one of them..!"
You take his plate away from him, helping yourself to his meal as he rants about how he's not cute
"Say what you will, but I think you're a very cute man~"
He just groans and lays his head on the table, openly blushing now as he watches you eat
"I'm not... cute..."
You just laugh at him and it makes his heart beat a little faster despite his visible pouting
You're an evil woman who's torturing him for falling for you, trying to make him confess so you can tease him about it
He's sure of it...but it doesn't diminish his growing feelings for you any less
This one was so fun 😭
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin x reader
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HEALTH SHOULD ALWAYS COME FIRST!
PRIORITISING HEALTH BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE TO LOOK GOOD + FEEL GOOD.
People always leave out the basics when it comes to trying to improve their looks. Prioritising health is so important before going in and tempering with your body. Your base is what you work with and you can definitely level up with what you've got naturally.
DIET
Your diet also depends on what your goals are. Someone who wants to build muscle will obviously eat differently from someone who just eats relatively healthy. So identify what your goals are and work your meals around that.
Here are some videos to give you a better insight:
HOW I LOSE FAT AND KEEP IT OFF MEANS, WORKOUTS + EVERYTHING ELSE
PROTEIN EXPLAINED, STRENGTH, MUSCLES, FAT LOSS & ENDURANCE
HOW METABOLISM WORKS
Diet not only makes you feel better from the inside, but it also reflects on your outside. Your skin is a huge display of how you eat.
When you consume junk food, it can show up on your skin as breakouts or dullness. Your skin is one massive organ which soaks up everything put onto it and reflects everything you put inside your body. Fix the problem from the inside before getting confused about why your skincare routine isn't working.
FITNESS
Again, your fitness will differentiate from your goals. So work out your goals and make a plan around that. There are so many forms of fitness, some more intense than others and with different results. Working out in general is good for you, our bodies are meant to move. So even if you don't have a goal, staying active is always recommended.
HOW TO CREATE THE PERFECT WORKOUT PLAN
THE BEST WAY TO GAIN MUSCLE, SCIENCE EXPLAINED SIMPLY
Low-intensity workouts:
Yoga: Focuses on flexibility, strength, and relaxation through various poses and breathing techniques.
Pilates: A low-impact exercise method that strengthens muscles, improves flexibility, and enhances posture.
Walking: Simple yet effective, walking is a great way to improve cardiovascular health and boost mood without high impact.
Swimming: Provides a full-body workout with minimal stress on joints, making it ideal for people with joint issues or injuries.
High-intensity workouts:
HIIT (High-Intensity Interval Training): Alternates between short bursts of intense exercise and brief recovery periods to maximize calorie burn and improve cardiovascular fitness.
CrossFit: Combines elements of weightlifting, interval training, gymnastics, and other exercises to build strength, endurance, and overall fitness.
Sprinting: Short, explosive bursts of running at maximum effort, often performed in intervals for cardiovascular conditioning and leg muscle strength.
Circuit Training: Involves moving through a series of exercises targeting different muscle groups with minimal rest in between, combining strength training and cardiovascular exercise.
These are just a few examples, but there are plenty of other workout styles out there to explore depending on your preferences and fitness goals. Walking every day is just a simple way to stay toned.
SLEEP
Sleeping is important for rest and recovery after workouts and energy-consuming activities. Sleep is needed for the brain to function, mood regulation and performance + productivity. Lack of sleep deprives you of all of these things, so getting your beauty sleep is absolutely needed.
School-age children (6-13 years): 9-11 hours per day.
Teenagers (14-17 years): 8-10 hours per day.
Young adults (18-25 years): 7-9 hours per day.
Adults (26-64 years): 7-9 hours per day.
HYGIENE
Upkeeping good hygiene is always needed anyway. Making sure you are clean (smelling good is a plus). Make sure you always wash your hands and take daily showers to remove any dirt on your body (clean those feet and your back well, don't forget them!). Taking care of your oral health must not be forgotten. Oil pulling and brushing your tongue for a healthy mouth. Make sure your hair is also getting the attention to keep it as healthy as you possibly can make it (this also depends on diet). Doing the extra things like spending time on your nails (making sure there isn't that stuff underneath them), making them pretty.
BODY CARE ROUTINE | FOR SMOOTH & GLOWING SKIN, TREATING KERATOSIS PILARIS, SHOWER ROUTINE
ENVIRONMENT
Having a stress-free environment is obviously the best to thrive in. But clearly not even being lucky enough to live like that constantly. So make sure you have that space to be on your own and have some alone time to really recharge. Keeping your space clean for a clear mind. Surround yourself with like-minded people and really set boundaries for those who prey on your mental clarity (energy vampires). Spending time in nature is one of the best ways to detach, rest time should not equal spending time on your devices. Let go and truly let yourself decompress. Mental health will improve how you carry yourself.
EMBODY YOUR POTENTIAL.
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Bet on Me
Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader
Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.
Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?
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This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me.
Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling.
"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably.
I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away.
"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way."
I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him.
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs.
"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."
"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar.
------------
"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness.
"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife."
"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"
"It's kind of my job."
"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?"
"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."
"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"
“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips.
Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"
"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus"
"Ah so you're a local too?"
“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question.
“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?”
“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.”
I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way.
“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.”
“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.”
My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes.
“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh.
I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”
“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.
“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked,
“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes.
“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent.
“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.”
“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?”
At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator.
———
"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once."
"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle.
"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before.
"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence.
"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?"
I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him.
"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes.
"Spencer, it's okay, I want to."
He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth.
"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor.
"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."
I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch.
"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either.
“I-I don’t have a-,"
“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.”
I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length.
“Oh god, Spencer.”
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock.
“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.”
It’s always the skinny, shy guys.
“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.”
His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.
“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.
“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.”
“I’m all yours Spencer.”
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Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties
#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#mgg#spencer x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic#dr spencer reid x reader#matthew gray gubler
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