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jellys-compendium · 4 months

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Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.

Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room.

“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record.

“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”

Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month.

Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”

“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.”

The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.

König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.

“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”

As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.

You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König.

König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is.

But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,

“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”

Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.

“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.

Häschen.

A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that.

Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.

As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.

In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose.

You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.

Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.

Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.

As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy.

Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.

Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.

You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.

Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!

‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

It’s…König.

Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.

Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…

Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.

Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests.

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.

Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that.

Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you.

Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.

“Scheisse!”

The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic.

“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.”

König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips.

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered.

Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.

“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

He��s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.

König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.

Cute.

Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle.

Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.

Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside.

“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”

Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all.

Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.

“W-what?”

König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.

“Yes.”

Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.

Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.

“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.

“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”

Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.

God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.

Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good.

And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.

“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.

König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.

“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”

“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”

König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved.

“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”

König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.

“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants.

“I want your cock.”

The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.

“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”

A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture.

You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name.

“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today.

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#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod smut #jellywrites

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cupcakeinat0r · 16 days

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A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3

Enjoy! - Cupcake

Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.

Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.

The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.

After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.

A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.

Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.

But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.

His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.

The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.

Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”

You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.

“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.

From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.

“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-

“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”

There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.

“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.

“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.

“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.

Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.

“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.

“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”

He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning.

You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the features that make up his beautiful face. He was simply gorgeous.

“S’good mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on his neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area.

Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.

He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about,

Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.

Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.

It’s silent between the two of you. You both lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.

Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too.

When your lips cannot move anymore without touching, in what would be considered “Spider-Man” style ;) , you both share a kiss, so sweet and innocent. The perfect first kiss. You’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to pull away just yet, Miguel pulls you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the kiss just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, you’d stay here forever if you could.

Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back to his pecs underneath his sweater. This also deepens your kiss, so to deepen it even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please?”

knowing what he meant, slowly going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.

Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”

Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.

There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.

Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.

Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.

“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!

A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????

<3 Tags <3

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junipers-archive · 1 year

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Power-Outage

Word Count: 1.2k

Includes: fluff, fluff, fluff spencer x reader when a power-outage occurs and spencer being spencer and being adorably the perfect boyfriend

Dark. It is dark and you're alone and its honestly embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone to call your boyfriend. I mean...who's still scared of the dark? What're you 5?

It's two in the morning and you shouldn't be calling, really. You've only been dating for a few weeks, but he's Spencer, he's technically been your best friend for 4 years, 3 months, 2 days. and...about 18 hours, but who's counting? You convince yourself you just need to hear his voice, his sweet, safe, angelic-

"H-hello?"his voice breaks from that of someone just woken up at an ungodly hour by his co-dependent girlfriend who so happened to have accidentally hit the call button while she was second-guessing herself.

Maybe he'll hang up? Maybe you can convince him you butt-called him in the middle of the night tomorrow at work? Or maybe-

"Y/n baby I'm really gonna need you to respond before i drive over there." he sounds calm, not at all agitated, not at all like someone woken up at 2 in the morning, he sounds...like Spencer

"Hi..." You exhale into the mic with relief. You should say something, really say something, apologize, yes that's what you'll do "I'm sorry I shouldn't have called, god I'm so idiotic...I just-well the power just went out and its 2 in the morning and I really should get some sleep but-"

You're cut off by the jingling of keys on the other line.

"Spence you still there?"

"I'm on my way." Was that a car door?

"On your wayy..." It takes you second, or it takes your un-caffienated and sleep deprived brain a second to realize he means he's coming over to your house. Your home. Where you live.

And yes you're bestfriends with him and you've had sleepovers before but that was when you were ready. That was when you had cleaned.

"No! Spencer No! That is completely unessecary! I'm fine! I just wanted someone to talk to and I thought-"

The engine of his car starts. You can hear him trying to repress the laugh that graces your ears every time he knows something you're trying to hide from his genius mind.

"I'm already pulling out of the drive-way, forget about it. Plus I know you're afraid of dark."

Maybe he'll turn around if you just- "Spencer. I am not afraid of the dark. That is childish and obsurd and I mean im not a little kid anymore! You can just go home, go to bed and forget this ever happened"

There's a silence on the other end, besides the hum of the car, absolute silence.

Until, "Do you still have the candle I got your for Christmas?"

Of course. Of course Dr. Spencer freakin Reid wouldn't believe you. I mean he knows you better than anyone. What were you thinking?

"Yea spence. Yea I have the candle"

He hums in response and you can practically hear him grinning on the other end.

You admit defeat.

"Can you at least bring over some marshmallows? I'm all out from our last movie night." You would honestly rather have him over as soon as possible if it weren't for your hideous room and the pile of "i'll get to it" in the living room haunting your mind. This will at least buy you time.

But again he's dr. reid. "I've already got some from my stash, jumbo and small and snowmen shaped. And of course hot chocolate!"

He's perfect. He's everything and more you could've asked for.

And yet. ANd yet. At this very moment you'd like to strangle him. And not that impersonal type of cowardly strangle like really just-

"Don't be embarrassed baby. I've already seen your room at its worst. I'll be there in ten, turn on the candle and read your books for now."

You hear him knock on the door a few minutes later, as to not disturb the neighbors. Because of course, he's Spencer and would've thought about that too.

You run with the only flashlight you have to the front door, and you're greeted by a ruffled, grinning and ever-charming Spencer with his satchel stuffed with god knows what and wearing his periodic table of elements pjs.

You mirror his grin almost immediately, albeit sheepishly and look down to hide your own embarrassment...only to find him wearing the pink bunny slippers he'd stolen from your house only a few days ago.

With that all or any ego-preservation skills were out the window. He was here already...right?

You let him in, still staring down at your shoes as he leads you two straight for the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to find the ingredients and kitchenware as if he'd lived there his whole life.

You take a seat at the kitchen's island stool, and watch him work.

This should be embarrassing. I mean it is. It is!

That is, until he hands you a steaming cup of hot chocolate with little snowman marshmallows dissolving on top and smiling like he hasn't just driven 8 miles with these ingredients to make you happy because you called him.

You called him at 2 in the morning.

And with that the unease floods back. And you're hiding your face in your hands and mumbling something incoherent.

This is when he finally speaks. "So...you wanna build a fort?"

You rub your eyes and look up at him. "i-i'm sorry?"

"We should build a fort." He's assertive in this, something at another time you would've found very hot, but at this moment it concerns you. Because to any other person what you've just done would be unacceptable.

"You...want to...build a fort?"

"I find it helps, I mean...at least when I was younger my mom and dad, they used to help me build forts when the power went out. To distract me if anything. It was kind of the only time I remember them getting along."He chuckles and looks down bashfully.

And now all you can think of is building a fort with the beautiful boy in front of you.

"Yea, yea i'd really love it if we built a fort."

And you do, you build a fort with what now you deem as you're future husband. Lighting the other candle he brought you on the counter that fills the air with your favorite scent and finding battery power camping lamps in your closet to light up the room.

He tells you stories about the kinds of forts he used to build and to the best of both your abilities you try to recreate his favorite.

By around 5:30 in the morning the sun is rising and you're both past out in the center of the monstrosity you two created while high on a sugar rush provided by the hot chocolate and one two many marshmallow snowmen consumed.

But you'll remember this for the rest of your life you think. You'll remember Spencer for the rest of your life. Because no one, no one would understand how to make you forget your biggest fear like he did.

While surrounded by darkness all you could see was him.

He was your light.

He was your light, and for as long as he'd have you, you'd be his too.

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azrielbrainrot · 3 days

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel angst

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ikigaisvt · 4 months

Text

sleepy

in which your boyfriend comforts you after a restless night.

pairing: joshua x gn!reader words count: 1.6k content: comfort, fluff warnings: talk of insomnia, eating, talk of drinking, petnames (for reader: babe, baby, sweeheart / for joshua: josh, love), skinship (cuddles, kisses) note: hi!! the joshua brainrot has been hitting hard lately; im kinda in love,, thank you so much @goblinvern for proof reading this for me 🫶 you're the absolute best! minors are allowed to interact with this post but please don't follow or i'll hard block you. enjoy and don't forget to leave a like/comment/reblog! note 2.0: i wasn't planning on posting this fic before the new year, but since i had it sitting in the drafts and it's joshua's day, i thought it'd be a good timing to post it now~ i hope everyone will have a good 2024 and happy birthday to shua!! 🫶

You were pretty sure if people would have to describe you, they’d use that word: admirative. You were one to always be left in awe at people’s talents, whether it be singing, drawing, dancing or truly anything else. Even though you were creative yourself, you’d always be admirative of what people could create out of their minds only. But if you had to say the one skill that would leave you speechless, as it is not one you possess, it’s being able to function with little to no sleep.

Okay, let’s redo this. If you’re being truthful, people would more likely describe you as sleepy. You were someone who always loved sleeping; however, sleep did not like you. You were never like one of those people who could sleep anywhere and through anything, you were rather on the more sensitive side when it came to sleeping. Over the years, you had put together a very strict routine you had to follow every night to ensure a restful sleep. But oh, if you had the bad idea or the bad luck to skip or miss a step? You’d end up falling asleep at 1 am and waking up at 5 am. And that’s exactly what happened yesterday night. Now, you’re used to this so surely you would know how to handle your own state and have the most productive day despite your tiredness. However, because the world never gives enough hardships to one, you were sometimes faced with a special kind of tiredness. A tiredness that would make you stick to anyone’s side. A tiredness that would make you hug a person and never let go. And when that happened, well, no amount of self-knowledge could make you change for the day. But maybe you have something to thank the world for: it gave the loveliest and gentlest boyfriend ever. And he loves cuddles.

10 am – 5 hours since I’ve been awake. He should be awake pretty soon; you think to yourself. Here you were, perched on the kitchen stool, an empty bowl of cereal in front of you, waiting for your boyfriend to wake up so you could cuddle. When you first woke up, you had hoped you would fall back asleep immediately, even though that rarely happened for you, so you didn’t even think of cuddling. But when you realized you would not fall asleep, you decide to get up and go about your day, already looking forward to your afternoon’s nap. All you did was settle down on your couch and put on your favorite show – The Vampire Diaries and around 9am, when hungriness settled down in the pit of your stomach, you got up and made yourself a bowl of cereal. You don’t know what triggered your need to hug your boyfriend – maybe the chill air that settled in your apartment as winter is coming closer or maybe the fact that you haven’t seen him a lot lately, but all you have been thinking about since then was him. Him and his arms enveloping you. Him and his scent making your head spin. Him and his fingers playing with your hair. Him, him, him. Now, you could have woken him up but knowing he came back home around 2 am – as he was out drinking with Jeonghan – you didn’t find it in you to ruin his sleep.

“10:30 am – he really should be awake by now,” you say out loud before you hear the water running in your bathroom. You slowly lean and peek at your hallway only to see Joshua walk down towards you – more like, towards the kitchen, his hair sticking out in weird angles while he rubs the sleep away from his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you once he gets closer, “Since when have you been awake?” he asks, worries written all over his face. He knows how much you struggle with sleeping.

“I woke up around 5,” you mumble as he starts making himself a cup of coffee. At your words he turns around to look at you, gives up on his coffee and comes around the kitchen bar.

“Oh babe,” he says, his hands reaching for your face, cupping your cheeks gently, “Is it because of me? Did I wake you up?” he questions, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“No, you’re fine. You know how it gets for me sometimes,” you reassure him, your hands holding on his wrists.

“Okay, okay,” he says, “What can I do? Do you want to stay in bed while I clean around? Today is cleaning day, right?” he asks, trying to come up with a way to make today easier for you.

“Well, cleaning day is reported to tomorrow,” you chuckle, lighting up the situation, “but there’s something I’d really like,” you mumble, trying to work up the courage to ask him for cuddles.

“Yes, tell me. Anything for you,” he nods, his hands now resting on your neck, his fingers playing with the little hair at the back of your head.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?” you ask him, holding out your hand in a pinky promise.

“Of course. I promise I won’t make fun of you,” he states, as he meets your hand in the same promise, a glint of mischievousness appearing in his eyes, “You want cuddles, don’t you?” he asks in a smile.

“How did you know?” you gasp, not knowing what could have given you up. But truly, Joshua knew as soon as he looked at you. He couldn’t pin point what gave you away either but he’s sure it’s there somewhere, in your shiny eyes, in your slight pout or maybe it’s the way your body is leaning into his, faster, closer, than usual.

“You always ask me to not make fun of you before asking for cuddles,” he chuckles, trying to come up with an answer without giving away how much he loves you, “and I always tell you I will not. Never.” He says, planting a kiss on your forehead, “Especially not when you’re being so open with what you need. You know I’ll always try to provide whatever you need for you.” Okay, he thinks to himself, maybe I did give myself away with that one.

“Thank you, Josh,” you murmur, your hands finding his shirt, as you pull him towards you so he can stand between your legs, “Just like this. For a few seconds.” You tell him, your voice even quieter as you bury yourself in his chest. You feel his arms reach behind you, rubbing your head and your back in slow motion, bringing you the comfort you were wishing for. Your body slowly relaxes, your hands untighten against his shirt and your breath becomes slower, little sighs leaving you as you realize that this is feeling rested. This is what love feels like. This is what home feels like.

“Feels good?” he whispers, his hand now drawing circles on your back, your response coming in the form of a nod, “You want to move to the couch?” he asks as you mumble yes against his shirt, slowly leaving his embrace. You look up at him, your eyes meeting as he reaches for your face, slowly coming closer to your lips. Just as you close your eyes and your lips are about to meet, he whispers something about the couch and suddenly you’re hoisted up in the air, his arms around you.

“There we go, baby,” he says as he kisses your forehead, blush creeping on your cheeks at how much he’s covering you with love, “Hold on tight,” he whispers, your arms finding rest on his shoulders as he holds you closer to his chest.

He slowly makes his way to the couch, the slight movement of his steps almost lulling you to sleep, to that state you always struggle to find on your own. And yet with him, it’s so easy. So easy you find yourself sleepier than before, as Joshua sets you down on the couch, his arms open to allow you the rest you deeply deserve. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, his heart like a lullaby to you while he strokes your hair out of your face.

“You’re good now?” he whispers as he plants another kiss on your head.

“Hm, yeah. Thank you, love,” you whisper, already feeling sleepier than a few minutes ago as he strokes your back.

“Please, don’t thank me,” he starts, “always come find me when you can’t sleep, okay? Call me and I’ll come running. Tell me and I’ll drop everything. Wake me up whenever and I will give every ounce of sleep to you.” he says, your eyes looking up at him, “You need to promise me, okay?” he asks, his hand already out in a pinky promise.

“I swear,” you answer, your hand locking his into a promise. You take a hold of his hand quick enough, playing with his fingers before you start leaving kisses on his open palm, his knuckles, the tip of his fingers, “I love you.” you whisper as you let his hand down, your fingers still intertwined.

“I know,” he says quietly, his eyes filled with something you can’t describe. Perhaps it is love. “I love you too. So much.” He tells you, sealing his love with a kiss on your hand as your eyes feel heavier than before, sleep and warmth slowly invading your body.

It’s when you feel your body getting heavier, Joshua’s heart beats fading in the background as his hand never stop rubbing your back that you realize you should have added cuddles with Joshua as a crucial part of your night routine. No matter how many tips you will try to sleep better – earplugs, sleeping masks, white noise music, nothing will ever compare to Joshua and the comfort, rest and love he brings you. And maybe after a few years, you’ll be able to only have one step in your night routine.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it 🫶

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen comfort #svt #joshua #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #joshua comfort #joshua hong #sammy's works

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talaok · 10 months

Note

Hi🌻

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And if it's no bother can you please make it long

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Warnings: angst and allusion to smut

11:32 pm

Another day, and another night alone.

Something was playing on the tv, but you had stopped paying attention a while ago.

The streetlamp across the street felt more interesting than anything a screen had to offer.

The road was deserted, and the house across from yours had all the lights off,

It's a Friday night, they're probably out. You can almost picture them at that cute bar in town, holding each other's hands while talking about their respective days.

It must be nice, to be a perfect couple, to have someone to go home to every day, to not wake up and go to sleep in an empty bed.

But there you were.

Yes, you knew what you had gotten yourself into, you knew about the long hours, the need to move every six months, the hectic lifestyle, you knew about all of it... but still, nothing could have ever prepared you for the loneliness that came with it.

And what angered you was that maybe it wouldn't have been that bad, if he only talked to you once in a while, a real talk, a conversation starting with a simple "how are you doing?"

So that you could tell him how you were really doing.

But no, every time you were together now, you either had sex or both of you were too tired to finally have that conversation.

It had been a whole month now of that god-awful routine, and you were sick of it.

Tonight you were gonna talk, whether he wanted to or not

A click sounded to your left as the door opened.

"Hi," he said more like a question, a clear hint of his confusion.

You were never awake when he got home.

"Hi"

"what are you doing up?"

You stood from the couch, as he took off his jacket and tossed it on the hanger.

"I was waiting for you"

"yeah?" he smirked, his eyes glinting with a suggestive tint.

"We need to talk"

"oh" he breathed, clearly disappointed "about what?"

You were now in front of him, taking in the scruffy beard that had just recently gotten some streaks of white matching his hair.

The evidence of the years passed could be seen all across his face, except his eyes, of course, the same big hazel ones you fell in love with.

"Scarily expressive" you had told him the first time you met, and never a day had gone by that you hadn't stood by it.

You were sure that he could stop talking any day and his eyes would do the rest without any problems whatsoever.

And now, now what they conveyed was tiredness, mixed with confusion.

"You're never home Pedro"

there, plain and simple.

He sighed now, getting where this was heading, he could have acted clueless all he wanted, but he too, knew this conversation was long overdue.

"Y/n I'm tired, can we do this another time?"

"When?" you scoffed "We never see each other! It's like I live alone Pedro, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"Listen it's not my decision, I have to work" he muttered, walking to the bedroom and leaving you behind like a useless piece of trash.

"I know it's not, but do you even try? How long has it been since you've taken a day off? Hell, even a morning off?" You trailed behind him.

Once again: You were gonna talk today.

"What would you rather I do? Stop working?" he asked, condescending as ever, turning to face you as he took his shoes off.

"No! I'm just saying you could try a little harder to be home more often"

"I was home yesterday!"

"Yeah at 5:30 pm and you invited Mike over"

"what's wrong with Mike being here?"

"Nothing just- we never have a moment to ourselves anymore"

"Well I'm sorry if I want to see my friends too"

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't, just- God, you never listen to me!" you snapped, throwing your hands to your sides

"When was the last time that we had breakfast together? Or that we went on a date, huh?"

This time he stayed silent

"exactly" you sighed "We're supposed to spend time together Pedro, for fuck's sake we're a couple!"

"Once again y/n, I have to work"

"Are you kidding me!?" you closed your fists by your side as you shut your eyes trying to calm down "Pedro have you listened to a fucking word I sai-"

What the fuck?

His lips were on yours.

"what are you doing?"

"Did you know you're really hot when you're mad?" he smirked, holding your waist

"shut up. I'm trying to have a serious conversation"

"nobody's stopping you" he murmured sultry, his mouth founding your neck.

God, you hated the whimper leaving your mouth

"A-All I'm trying to say is that you could try to be home more o-often"

"Mh-mh" he hummed against your neck, his beard scratching it ever so deliciously.

"Y-you're not-" you let out a sigh as he began sucking the skin beneath your ear "You're not listening to me"

"I am. go on" he urged, biting at your earlobe and causing a gasp to your throat.

"fuck-Pedro..." you warned

"What sweetheart?"

"I know what you're doing, t-this is not going to work"

And at that, the bastard chuckled, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your core.

"Funny you say that, baby," a wicked grin pulled at his lips as your eyes met his "'cause I think it already has"

"No it hasn't"

"no?" he whispered "Then how do you explain this?" he asked as his fingers reached the wet patch on your panties.

"God you're really..." you gritted, a mixture of anger and arousal coursing through you.

"What angel?" he ghosted your mouth "What am I?"

"you're an asshole"

A huffed laugh fled his mouth "And yet, you're gonna let me fuck you"

You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind

"We're still gonna talk later"

"Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want"

...

(I just proof-read this and I realized I might have interpreted the request kind of wrong. You meant an enemies to lovers kinda thing didn't you? If you did I'm genuinely sorry)

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dollfacejjk · 5 months

Text

Helpless || Jungkook ff ||

pairing: jungkook x female lead!reader x another female (unnamed)

genre: angst, 18+, cheating au.

warnings: heartbreaks, mentions of sex and cum, love triangle, jungkook was a cheater, crying, Jungkook is an asshole, our oc(y/n) is a strong and independent girl.

a cheating story from the other woman's point of view,

She watched him pulling out the condom off his dick and throwing it in the dustbin with a tired look. He rolled away from top of her and checked the time on his phone which was near the pillow she was laying her head on.

She also glanced and saw its already 02:34 a.m. He quickly opened his phone and typed something while tilting his phone, keeping the screen away from her gaze. She saw how he brows frowned as he typed away furiously. At last, he groaned loudly and threw his phone on the bed.

She watched him jumping out of the bed before slipping into his boxers. His back red from the scratches she gave him while he was fucking her on this bed just 5 minutes ago.

He went straight to the bathroom, maybe to wash up. She looked up at the ceiling and gulped helplessly. She can still feel the ghost of his hands on her thighs and shoulders, thinking about the promises he made her but was never be able to keep it.

The sound of a ‘ding’ near her ear jolted her out of her thoughts. She glanced to the side and saw his phone unlocked, his home screen was of him with that girl, still.

She bit her lips, wondering if she should sneak a peek at the notification or not and when another ‘ding’ vibrated through his phone, her hands reached up to grab his phone before she can even think.

She moisten her lips and swipe down to click on the notification bar. It opened to a chat.

02:35 a.m.

Jungkook:

Y/n? I wanted to talk to you.

Can we talk today in the evening?

Please?

Are you sleeping?

Baby I know you never sleep this early.

Please reply?

I am really sorry! I just wanna talk.

Only for half an hour I promise!

Y/n? You are online, it is showing. Please reply baby!

02:38 a.m.

I don't wanna loose you!

02:45 a.m.

My life ❤ (Y/n):

I don't have time. Should've thought about not losing me when you fucked that girl in our own room.

Who knows you might still be fucking her.

Anyways don't message me again or I will have no choice but to block you!

She got startled when she heard a thud from the bathroom. Jungkook might have dropped something. She quickly turned off his phone before placing it down bear the pillow. Curling herself more into the blanket, she shifted to her right when tears started forming in her eyes.

“I would break up with her in a few days baby, just wait.”

“You know, Y/n is becoming more annoying now a days. I wanna break up with her as soon as possible.”

“........ I broke up with her and told her t-that I was cheating on her with you.”

“She found another man so soon?”“She really moved on from me within a month!”

“....I t-think I still love Y/n.”

“Jungkook? What are you saying? You broke up with her because you wanted to be with me, right? You even cheated on her with ME!”

She saw him following his ex all day, trying to talk to her, just for her to ignore and roll her eyes at him every time.

She saw him on his knees, crying to that girl, asking her for forgiveness and another chance. He clutched Y/n's hand and sobbed loudly, messily wiping away his tears and blabbing god knows what apologizes.

She saw how Y/n looked rather embarrassed seeing his behavior than feeling pity for his condition. Another man came running in and snatched Y/n's hands way before glaring down at Jungkook's body. He mouthed a quick ‘stay away’ and lead Y/n away from Jungkook.

She glanced in the direction of bathroom when she heard the door click open. Jungkook stared at her in surprise before his face turned into a scowl.

“What are you still doing here? Get out!”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook #bts #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

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cannedpickledpeaches · 1 month

Text

Insert Your Name (5)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: Overthinker reader having a conversation with Mr. "Just Trust Me" Jade Leech. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe

“Would you like some tea?”

Jade offers you a cup of something that smells like lavender. You shake your head.

“I’m okay.” You turn your attention back to your screen. He sets the cup and saucer next to you anyway. “Who knows, maybe you’ve put a suspicious substance in it.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I can do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Absolutely not. Give an inch and you take a mile.”

There’s a beat where he doesn’t reply. You look up at him, wondering if you’ve said something strange, but his back is turned as he walks to his seat. When he turns back around to settle in his chair, his expression stills like a frozen pond. Perfectly crafted, carefully unreadable.

A few hours have passed since his phone call. You’ve decided to work in Jade’s office today, thinking that you might get a clue or a burst of inspiration if one of the subjects of your thoughts is in close proximity. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his quiet hums and constant catering to your needs indicates that he’s rather pleased. Aside from the cup of tea releasing a wispy veil of steam, there’s also a plate of cookies and a bowl of cherries on his desk beside you.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

You close your laptop and sigh. There are too many to count, all swirling in your head without rest.

“Still thinking about what you told me this morning.” You don’t want to address the bigger issue—that (Y/N) apparently forgot who you are—so you start small. “I didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep.”

“Neither did I.” Jade frowns in thought. “I imagine it is a result of too few hours of sleep throughout the week.”

“Even so, you said it yourself. You can’t sleep around strangers.” You drum your fingers on the desk. “Maybe you actually do feel at ease around her.”

“That is not the case.” His voice carries certainty that surprises you. When you glance at him, you notice that his mouth is set in a firm line. “I was quite unsettled when I woke up.”

“Huh.” You can imagine it. His shock at his lapse in vigilance. But even so, no matter how tired he is, he has never made this sort of blunder before. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

A shadow passes over his face. He stands next to your chair and leans over you. His eyes stare straight into yours—piercing mismatched eyes with an almost magnetic pull.

“I will ask you the same question as last night. Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

Your heart jumps. Is he using Shock the Heart? But a few seconds pass, and no words leave your lips. This is not his Signature Spell. This is Jade Leech asking you a sincere, serious question. Besides, you have no reason to lie.

“Like I said, I don’t know—”

“Then don’t talk and act as though it is.” Is that frustration in his voice? He maintains eye contact with you, and you feel as though you can’t look away. “I, for one, think a predetermined future is horribly boring. My actions dictated for me, every event predictable . . . . I would sooner abandon it all and throw caution to the wind. The only reason why I am following the manuscript is because it outlines a way to restore my parents’ health.”

His sentence ends on half a breath, as though he originally intended to say more. He doesn’t. You wait, but nothing comes out.

“And?”

He kneels beside your chair, no longer towering over you or crowding your space. When he speaks again, he is quiet. But in the silence of his office, you hear it clear as day.

“And because that is what you want.”

Many history textbooks praise the Sea Witch for her spells and potions. One of the most famous ones took away a mermaid’s voice. You wonder if this is what that mermaid felt like. A storm of thoughts, but none able to be processed by your vocal chords. Parted lips that leak no sounds. You stare, nonplussed.

Eventually, you manage to let out a breathy, barely-heard whisper.

“What?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “That is the truth. If that is what you wish for, then I will do my best to live up to your expectations. I know your good friend (Y/N)’s life is difficult. I know you think that by following this manuscript, everyone will be happy, because that is what it says will happen.”

You continue staring. The words seem to pass through you. It’s as though you are sitting in a dream, your surroundings wavering and surreal. What is he saying?

“The truth is that I could simply care less about (Y/N). She is at most an acquaintance. The reason why I give her special treatment is because I know she is precious to you.” He keeps rambling. You get the sense that he has been keeping quiet about this for a while. “As for the matter concerning my parents. If we follow the story, there is still no guarantee that they will be cured. Even you said you do not know if the manuscript’s plot will certainly come to pass. If Vil Schoenheit refuses to help my family, we will think of another way. He is not the only alchemist or curse expert in the world.

“I will follow what you want. But do not ask me to fall in love with (Y/N). That is the one thing I cannot do.”

“Why?” Your brain feels like porridge. Nothing seems to be getting through it. You cannot reason out a single thing. Isn’t (Y/N) created to be loved? Aren’t they written to fit like a glove on each other’s fingers? You’ve read the story. There doesn’t seem to be a particular reason why the Jade in the story obsesses over her aside from spending time together. It doesn’t actually matter. It’s the author’s will that their love is written in the stars—and the pages of that damn manuscript. It’s the point of the entire plot. “Is there something you don’t like about her?”

“Do I need a reason for failing to fall in love?”

Your mind blanks. Does he need a reason? He has a similar line in the manuscript. Do I need a reason for falling in love? If you think about it, isn’t it the same? No matter how you try and reason out the answer, love is not a puzzle with a logical answer. There is no formula, no recipe, no surefire step-by-step manual that you can follow to ensure success. Sometimes a spark causes a flame, and sometimes it sizzles out and dies. There is nobody to blame for either outcome.

You can’t wrap your mind around it. Why. Why. Why. Your brain, constantly overflowing with thoughts, cannot leave this topic to rest. A puzzle without an answer leaves you feeling antsy. Not knowing everything is a sin to your conscience.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That is how love tends to be.”

An unsatisfactory answer. You dig your nails into your palm.

“Then answer me this. Why do you follow what I want? Is it because I’m interesting? No, that’s not right. You just said following a pre-written script is boring, and that’s exactly what I told you to do. I don’t understand.”

“The script is boring. You are anything but.”

“Me? What have I done?”

He smiles, then, one wholly different from his polite masks or his teasing grins or even his unhinged laughter. It’s an expression you associate with the times he talks about his interests. The expression that blankets and scatters across his countenance like orange rays of the setting sun over ocean waves. A quiet and calm beauty. A fondness that he rarely allows to be seen.

“Did you know that when you have much on your mind, you look up to the sky? That is why you prefer rooms with windows. The attic in my home that you love so dearly is one such room, and you spend all your time there nestled on the window seat. On that topic, you prefer small spaces because it helps you feel secure while you think. This is because you tend to zone out, and it is easier to defend yourself when no threats can appear behind you.”

“Uh, this is more like a behavioural report than a reason.”

“I do adore observing your behaviour. Particularly when you are lost in thought. I find myself wondering what you’re thinking about. If you’ll share them with me. But oftentimes, you do not trust me enough to do so.”

You swallow hard. “It’s hard to.”

“Why is that? I’ve known you for fifteen years. Floyd has known you for just as long, Azul a little less. (Y/N) has only known you for one year. So why can’t you trust me?”

You fiddle with your fingers, no longer capable of meeting his gaze. This kind of outburst is not something you expected from Jade. How long has he been thinking this way?

“I can’t tell what’s going on in your head. That’s why. Everything you say or do just gives me more to think about. If you’re being genuine or not, if you’ll suddenly decide to turn on me, things like that.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes. His smile shifts from fond to rueful and raw desperation permeates his shaky voice. It sounds brittle, as though a well-aimed push would shatter it into infinitesimal pieces.

“Is it so inconceivable that I could do things for you without ulterior motives?”

You look away. “Only until it no longer serves your interests or amuses you. Even if I can’t trust you fully, I’m sure there’s at least some level of it between us. I mean, we see each other regularly. I even let you drive me home.”

“Yes, but I am afraid I am a greedy man. Anyone else turning their back on me would be tolerable, but you—if it’s you . . . . At least promise me this. Even if I turn on the entire world,” he declares quietly, “promise you will trust that I will not betray you.”

You open your mouth as though to reply. Nothing comes out. You try again, your fingers gripping your knees tightly.

“I think we’re too similar. We’re both too cautious. We both think too much. Because of that, I can’t let my guard down around you.”

“Yet that is exactly what fascinates me.” He places a hand over yours. “Trying to decipher your thoughts, wondering about the motivations behind your actions, these are all things I find myself enthralled by. Your brutality and decisiveness towards that which would benefit you, but your willingness to do anything for the people dear to you. Your cautious nature as you execute your bold plans. Every time I think I have you pinned down, I only unearth another layer. The mystery intrigues me. On the other hand, I cannot help but wish you would trust and open up to me a little more.”

“That’s contradictory.”

“I cannot help it.” He smiles wryly. “I am contradictory by nature, as are you.”

You study his hand that engulfs yours. Cool to the touch. Ungloved, too. You muster your resolve.

“Then promise you won’t lie to me.” You finally lift your gaze until it returns to his eyes. Clear eyes that have been by your side for years. The eyes of a liar and schemer. Ironic for the one who wields a Signature Spell that forces out the truth. But these are the eyes of Jade Leech, and you won’t try to make him be someone he isn’t. “Lie to everyone else, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me. You can try to trick me or give me half-truths. I’ll figure them out on my own. If I still get fooled, that’s on me. Just don’t outright lie.”

The pounding of your heart fills your ears. Then, it is replaced by the sound of his quiet laughter.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He brings your hand up to touch his cheek. It only lasts a moment before he lets go and stands back up, returning to his seat. “I give you my word. I will never lie to you again.”

You look at the teacup on the desk, the lavender tea inside now cooled. The untouched cookies and cherries. A soft clink rings out as you take the teacup and bring it to your lips. Sweet and fragrant. Even cold, the tea Jade brews is impeccable.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst fanfic #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #multi chap fic #mafia au #jade promised to brew a relaxing tea last chapter #lavender tea promotes sleep and stress relief #even if you don't drink it the scent helps #so he wins whether you drink it or not #slow burn

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essentiallyleaf · 6 months

Text

day 26. selfcest. with. miyeon.

854 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x futa!idol (???), selfcest, narcissist miyeon, supposedly a mostly comedic piece but at the same time it’s not very funny, narrator might sound too salty though really they’re just annoyed [beep beep cop out alert beep beep], the real cop out is that miyeon sounds awfully similar to me in this and that’s scary, okay maybe outside of the selfcest part, this entire fic is a huge cop out for me having zero creativity and wit to be honest, sorry for the excessively long tags i’ll stop now, no i won’t, yes i will, no i- okay not funny.

notes.

-5. honestlycantwaitfortheendofoctoberly, leaf.

Miyeon always wanted to write an autobiography, maybe a script, or rather, to get it written for her, ‘cause “Who’s got the time for that, y’knowhatImean?”, and definitely not because she hasn’t used pen and paper for anything other than autographs since she - barely - got out of high school; “Maybe a book of quotes, that could be quicker. What? Whose quotes, you asked? Mine, who else’s? HaHA”

Nah, her life is not really book material. It’s more like a b-movie (or, Bee even?), with all the bad jokes and none of the ironic laughs. This one time she was asked, if you could describe your entire life in a frame - one shot, one opportunity; would your mom be making spaghetti in it? - what would it be? With an intense glare and an abnormal amount of dramatic pauses in between she answered, probably me, in front of a mirror, side-eyeing my own reflection, y’kno, because I, am my only, enemy, the biggest obstacle, on the road to success; wow, that deserves a spot in the book.

It doesn’t come as a shock that a person like her had weird dreams, dreams where she randomly comes across a woman that looks exactly like her, and starts researching about her, trying to get more information, discover where the woman comes from, what she does in her life; it also doesn’t come as a shock that none of that is a product of her own imagination, she just really likes any film with Jake Gyllenhaal in it and can’t come up with any original ideas, even in the hours of the day when her unconscious is completely free and unbound from the chains of the real, or even of the realistic. Joining this exhibition of the unshocking, the first words that Miyeon utters when she gets to meet the woman (even in a dream, where every texture, every face is out of focus and blurred, where humans have twelve fingers and mushrooms have eight legs, she can see the woman’s features clearly - almost like she spent about the same amount of time in a day sleeping and looking in the mirror and could draw her own face blindfolded - and they exactly resembles her own) are “Oh my God, I look so beautiful”. So beautiful that she wants to feel the woman’s sharp, V-lined jaw, her perfectly angled, straight, thin nose, her thick, juicy, pink lips and fuck, how good they’d feel on-

Her tongue invades the double’s mouth like she’s about to have a taste of heaven, and ascending is what Miyeon does as she gets a sample of her own flavor. She feels the woman’s body up all over, hungry for contact, swiping and gripping and tugging now on her soft thighs, now on her bouncy cheeks, now on her perky tits. I need this real fucking fast, she thinks as she feels dampness between her legs, so she kneels to pull the dress of the other her up to her waist, and what she finds is no underwear (it would have been worrying to know that her perfect double does wear it, to be fair) and a gargantuan semi-erect penis. An absolute utopia, truly, for Miyeon to be in front of the two things she loves the most, fused together: herself and dick. No questions asked then, - and honestly, who’s ever questioned anything in their own dreams, even when it’s sucking yourself off - she wraps her lips around the mushroom head and starts bobbing like it’s her favorite hobby, and it is. It’s like she’s practiced her entire life for the moment she gets to taste the cock she never knew she wanted, and that cock thrusts hard back into her moaning throat because only one can know what she always wanted. And as Miyeon loses herself, - in the music, the moment - that’s where it stops, and her body is turned around and put on all fours, her round ass in the air. She feels her slick being spread around and onto her puckered hole, and as the woman’s tip pushes into her back entrance. One thrust in, and then out. Two, a little further. The third time, the huge girth leaves her hole gaping. Four, five, six, and when she loses count (quite soon, and not because of her poor math abilities), that’s when she breaks. That’s when her moans turn into screams, when her hand automatically goes to her clit and starts rubbing, the pleasure from her own fingers causing her muscles to relax even more and her double’s length to reach even deeper into her. The sound of hips bumping into cheeks and of her own feral wails is all she hears before she feels herself cumming and concurrently several spurts of cum fill her ass.

When Miyeon wakes up she has another quote for her book in mind, one to be remembered for generations to come, surely, and just as surely not a stolen one: the opportunity to meet face to face with your greatest enemy comes once in a lifetime - and the enemy will certainly not miss her chance to blow.

footnotes.

getting repetitive. contritely, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x idol #gidle #miyeon #cho miyeon #gidle miyeon #gidle smut #miyeon smut #cho miyeon smut #gidle miyeon smut

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kitthepurplepotato · 8 months

Text

Week 7 - It’s just a cold, Izu!

Summary: Midoriya can’t handle his love ones being sick and Y/N can’t handle Izuku when he’s freaking out for no reason. The duo has their first proper fight but Mama Katsuki and Auntie Inko are here to help.

Warnings: Swear words, a bit of angst, Y/N has a cold.

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Things went back to the good old ways after all the drama during the camp; Midoriya worked a full week without a single day off, you worked your ass off on your commissions to have some money to buy the latest hero merch, All Meowth continued to get fatter and fatter so you decided to alter his fancy ass feeder but even though Midoriya isn’t home at all he somehow still manages to change the settings back in those 5 fucking hours he’s home. It’s a pain.

Sometimes, Midoriya manages to get into his bed. Sometimes, he just sleeps on the sofa. And sometimes, more often than not, he just curls on himself by the end of your bed like a little stray cat and sleeps for a few hours, not even changing into his pajamas which usually ends up with you changing your bedding after finding mud or blood - or whatever pro hero Deku decided to roll himself into during his mission - on your sheets. Thankfully, Izuku has a super high tech washing machine x dryer combo with a built-in washing detergent and fabric softener dispenser, so the only work you need to do is fold it and put it away. That doesn’t make changing the sheets less annoying though. You might need to ask Midoriya if there’s a device for that too.

Are you bothered by Midoriya sleeping by your feet like a fucking dog? Yes.

Would you rather have him sleep like a normal human being, snuggled into your back cozily? Yes.

Will you ever tell him that? Probably no.

Well, listen. Things might be back to normal but your feelings are not. It’s nearly impossible for you to sleep on the days he decides to sleep in your room. He also mumbles a lot before he actually falls asleep, his mutters usually consist of him saying sorry and talking about consent and about his terrible day and you do respond, especially when he starts beating himself up for doing “the wrong thing” but you are quite sure he thinks it’s his mind speaking back to him in your voice by the way he just ignores them.

For your surprise, after his fifth day of working non-stop Midoriya actually manages to come home on time; and by “on time” you mean 8PM instead of the usual 2AM. You look at the poor guy like you’ve seen a ghost.

“What? I mean what are you doing here? I mean, you live here but… Are you hurt? Did something happen? Izuku, are you an apparition?” Your voice sounds really raspy compared to your usual sound but you blame it on not speaking for 5 days. “Oh, maybe you are just that holographic thingy you have in your bracelet.” You move towards the ghost by the entrance, grabbing his beautifully sculpted bicep to prove your point. Oh. “You are here. Wow.” You snicker awkwardly, giving his bicep another squish because… well… you fucking can.

“Sweet Pea, are you okay? You act a little bit weird and I’m not talking about the part where you squished my arms, twice, but… you don’t really sound coherent?”

“Nah, I’m all fine!” You laugh like a maniac, waving your hands in front of you so aggressively you almost knock one of Izuku’s ‘welcome figurines’ off the shoe cabinet.

Yes, you guys have a bunch of figurines by the entrance to welcome the guest, mostly of the Deku squad so they feel loved and cherished. “I’m peachy.” You try to laugh but your face contorts into something extremely unappealing right before you sneeze and headbutt the door frame. “Ahh, allergies.”

Okay, you have a confession to make…

You’ve been feeling under the weather for a while now. You were okay when you came back home, but on the third day, your throat got a bit itchy and your mind a bit fuzzy. That didn’t stop you from working through the whole day, drawing, cooking, taking care of the laundry and the garden and trying your best to scrub out the blood of Izuku’s dirty clothes which probably didn’t help with your worsening condition.

It’s really not that bad though. Back when you had a job you went in to work when you were sick with no problem at all. It’s really not the end of the world…

… for you.

Apparently, it is the end of the world for the hero in front you.

“I’m calling the hospital, Sweet Pea! Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me you’re feeling unwell, you could have died! Oh my god.” Midoriya freaks out completely. He throws all his stuff on the floor with a loud bang and comes closer to you, his palms on your forehead in only a millisecond.

“Izu come on, let’s watch a movie, I want to snuggle up! I haven’t seen you for 5 days! Also, stop bleeding over my bedsheets I had to change them three times this week! Just put on a bandaid or sleep without your clothes! Wait… no… don’t sleep in my bed without your clothes on, you might set my sheets on fire with your hot ass.”

Shut. Up. For the love of god, just shut up.

“Oh my god, you are burning up.” Midoriya declares, ignoring your rambles. Well, thank fuck for that.

“Aww, thank you!”

“No… I mean yes, but no, you have fever! It’s really dangerous to have a fever, Y/N!” He reprimands with tears pooling in his beautiful eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

“Says the guy whose life is literally in danger 14 hours a day. Come on now, change into your pj’s!” You try to pull the hero in by grabbing his hand on your forehead, but he doesn’t move.

Midoriya is having a meltdown. Internally. And externally as he can’t stop muttering. He drops on his knees right in front of you, hugs your legs and just mutters and mutters and mutters…

“It’s just a cold, love.” You kneel in front of him to swipe your fingers underneath his teary eyes to dry the skin. “Do heroes not get cold?”

“I should have realized something’s wrong, but your snores were so cute…”

“My what?!” You yell, trying your best not to cough all over the hero afterwards.

“You snored a bit yesterday. It’s was so adorable. I should have known you are getting sick. You never snore.”

The fact that he knows that makes you wonder how many times he ended up in your room without your knowledge and you should probably be concerned, but this is Mr. Green flag. He might not know the word ‘personal space’ but he can’t even hurt a fly. Literally.

You wanted to buy a Venus flytrap and Deku started crying because the plant is carnivorous and it would kill the flies around the house. You really had to stop yourself from telling him about where meat comes from. If Izuku would take a few seconds to think about that he would go vegan in a heartbeat.

Wait, how did you end up on this topic?

Also, why are you flying right now? Oh, Midoriya is taking you to your bed.

“Izu, I don’t want to sleep! I want to watch something!”

“You are going to bed and I’m going to get a bucket of water and a sponge. Then I’m going to the conbini to buy you medicine then I’ll cry in the shower.”

“Izu, you are overreacting.” You sigh. Yes, you do feel a bit weird but it’s really not that bad. This drama is uncalled for.

“Okay, I’m calling the ambulance.” Deku puts you down on your bed and gets his phone out to actually make a call. You really want to fangirl over the fact that his background is one of the pictures the gang took while camping and you are also on the picture but even with a high fever, you know that’s not the priority right now.

“Okay, okay, Izu, stop! Just.. whatever. Do whatever you want.” You give in, not even moving to get under your sheets. You can’t believe he came home sooner to be with you and you ended up like this.

“What about watching Netflix on your computer when your fever breaks?” Izuku asks, his hands caressing your forehead.

“Snuggles?”

“Snuggles.” Izuku smiles, tugging a stray hair behind your ears.

“Okay.”

~•🥦•~

Izuku really goes above and beyond to take care of you. He sponges your skin with tepid water to help the fever to go down, tugs you in like a baby so you can rest comfortably while he runs outside to find something for you to take. He comes back with a bag full of random stuff; there is a nose and throat spray, cold medicine - the super high end one you could never afford - throat sweets, vitamin C, pre-cut fruits and easy to eat stuff, Orange juice and a Deku plushie.

“I missed you.” You murmur as Izuku puts the stuff on a big tray and puts it on the bed.

“Have you eaten today?” Midoriya grumbles and you really hate the way he ignores you completely.

“Don’t be like this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m freaking out. Let me take care of you first, okay? Then I’ll be back to normal.”

“Gimme’ the Deku doll.” You command. Deku’s eyebrows rise at that.

“Excuse me? That’s for when I’m gone to patrol.” Deku reprimands, his eyes full of that weird kind of darkness again.

“Are you jealous of yourself, Izu-Izu?” You say mockingly.

“You know what, princess? You are not getting it. Nope. You’ve messed up.” Midoriya pouts while pointing his nose towards the ceiling offendedly.

“Give him to me, I’m a sick woman!” You move yourself up from the bed, aggressively trying to take the doll from Izuku. You manage to grab the poor fluffy thing so you yank it towards you but the hero comes with it; he ends up on top of you, giggling and laughing while you struggle to breathe. Midoriya pulls himself up to let you take a deep breath and you can’t help but look at his pretty and tired face up close; his eyes are shining in that weird way they usually do when you are around, gaze full of fondness and something else you can’t put your hands on; you look at his freckles and start counting them but there’s so many thanks to the sunny weather… at last, you look at his lips which you kissed by accident the other day.

Talking about that little accident…

“What if you get sick?”

“Why would I?” Midoriya smiles.

“I… we… kissed… on the peak. By accident.” You mumble nervously.

“Could you not say that right after you stared at my face for a whole minute, Sweets?”

“But staring at your face for a whole minute made me remember it.” You mumble like it’s common sense.

“You don’t have a filter when you have a fever, do you?” Midoriya giggles, but his shyness wins; he moves to the end of the bed, his face hidden in his hands awkwardly while his shoulders move with the laughter. After a few seconds, his tone changes into a serious one. “We barely get sick.” Midoriya admits. “We are always on edge, ready to fight. We are stubborn bastards who don’t let themself rest for long enough to be able to get sick.” Deku smiles into the nothingness with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“We should go on a holiday, Izu. To America, where All Might studied.” You sigh. “We could go to see his school, that famous street where he first debuted. Geeky stuff like that.”

“Sounds like a dream, Sweets.” Deku smiles for real this time and you really want to daydream a bit more but somehow you’re incapable of words; the sleep takes you without a warning and the world goes black.

You wake up after a few hours; it’s still dark outside, but it’s closer to the morning than to the night; or at least that’s what your body clock tells you. Next to you, there is a green mop of hair sprawled out on the second pillow you never use; he’s sleeping next to you but in a safe distance, unlike the other day when you woke up in his arms. You really miss the closeness, you miss everything about those three beautiful days; it’s harder and harder not to point out the elephant in the room and just end this sweet nothing and burn it to pieces for that 1% chance of your feelings being reciprocated. Apparently, Izuku is a vigilant sleeper; when a tiny sigh leaves your mouth he opens his eyes; without a single word he puts his palm on your forehead and starts his usual freak out session.

Honestly, this joke is getting old.

“Izu, stop freaking out, I’m actually feeling okay. My fever broke hours ago.” You stare at your shaking roomie with disappointment. “I’m literally tucked into 3 different comforters, of course I’m burning up. I’m quite sure I fell asleep in one, so why do I look like a burrito now?” You try your best to get out of the hellishly hot covers but Izuku looks at you with those freaking puppy eyes; he literally looks like a puppy who just peed on the carpet and feels bad about it. He’s the definition of a baby golden retriever.

“Let me get the sponge at least!” He murmurs almost silently with a little pout on his face. Adorable.

“Izu…”

“What about a lukewarm bath?” Midoriya pushes but you roll your eyes. “I’ll help you.”

This guy is ridiculous.

“You wish.” You snap back with a red face and if you wouldn’t be so ashamed you would have heard the almost silent “I do” murmured into his pillow.

“What did you say?”

“I said I need to go to work.” Midoriya grumbles, his sleepy voice more deep than usual. Oh no…

“Izu, are you grumpy right now?” You giggle and Midoriya really doesn’t appreciate that; he looks at you with an offended gaze. “Did you wanna have a lovely bubble bath with me and wash my back like you wanted in the camp?” You full on laugh now which ends up with you coughing a bit, which as per usual makes the greenette freak out for a good moment but after he checks your vitals and decides you are not about to die from a single cough, his angry pout is back.

“Shut up and take your Deku.” Midoriya tries to throw the stuffed version of himself to you and it lands on your face as your reflexes aren’t really good in your condition; you might feel better but there is definitely a long way until you can go back to your usual self. “Don’t make fun of me, I’ve grown up in a really loving and really touchy family. Once I tried to wash Kirishima’s back in the river and almost got Howitzer Impacted into the moon.” Midoriya admits and you burst out laughing.

“You did not…”

“I fucking did and he fucking let me. It almost cost my life.”

“Wow, you swear so much on this lovely morning.” You grin menacingly. “Did you not sleep well in MY BED?” You try your best to tease him flirtatiously; Midoriya was right, you have no filter when you’re sick. Oh well.

“You snored so much I couldn’t sleep well!” Izuku sticks his tongue out and you can’t believe his audacity.

“You cheeky little bitch, get out!” You whine and your green companion snickers as he leaves your room to get ready for his day. He comes back after a while in a full setup with a steaming cup of noodles in his hands.

“Eat this and take your medicine. Only leave the room if you really need to. Send me a message every hour if you don’t want me to jump in through the window which I will leave open just in case.” Midoriya mumbles, and you can’t help but giggle.

“We have a door you can use, I hope you know that.” You try to deadpan but your mouth doesn’t want to cooperate.

“Let me be extra, okay?!” The move Izuku made with his hands really makes you question his sexuality.

“I didn’t know you can be so sassy, Izu-Izu, I kinda like that.”

“Say that when there’s no snot dripping from your nose and I might get a little bit turned on.” Izuku fucking WINKS at you and leaves like the sassy bitch he is.

So let’s take a deep breath and think about the fact that Deku openly flirted with you, even though you look like you were just hit by a truck.

… and now freak the fuck out.

Yes, that will definitely help you to get better.

~•🥦•~

Well, Deku wasn’t joking when he said you need to message him every hour. If you were even a minute late, you woke up to a green blob staring at you from your window like a creep. It was kind of funny until you realized how dangerous this whole situation is; Deku is clearly not concentrating on his job properly which is not just a risk for his own health but to the people of the city as well. You need to do something about this.

“Hey, Katsuki.” You ramble into the phone with a husky voice. “I have a problem.”

“The fuck, freeloader! Are you hurt?! I’m coming over!” Katsuki is about to end the call but you stop him.

“I’m sick, don’t come here. I need your help with Izu.” You sigh. “He’s not concentrating on his work because of me. He’s around the house every hour, he’s absolutely lost it.”

“Fuck. He did that to me too when I was sick. Only happened once but fuck I make sure to eat my fucking vegetables since, he was an absolute emotional mess, crying and yapping by my fucking bed like I’m dying.” Katsuki tenses. “I’ll sort this out, you rest or whatever.” The line goes dead and the silence is back. You send a quick message to Midoriya that you are about to sleep and decide to close your eyes a bit; the sooner you get out of this mess the sooner you get your old roommate back.

~•🥦•~

The next time you open your eyes, Izuku’s sitting at the leg of the bed, hunched over; he looks banged up and really tired but he still smiles at you as you sit up.

“Hey, Sweet Pea.” His voice is rough. Something is not right. Something is…

Dripping. On the bed. From his side.

That’s fucking blood.

Okay, this is it. You are done.

“Midoriya Izuku, you are bleeding! What the fuck are you doing here and why are you not in a hospital?!” You yell but straining your voice probably wasn’t the best idea as you end up having a coughing fit. Midoriya tries to move and help you through it but even the smallest movement makes his breath hitch.

This is not funny anymore. “Why are you doing this?! How am I supposed to get better if all I can think of is you dying on the battlefield because of me?! Huh?! I’m really fucking done, Izuku! I don’t want you here! I want to sleep! I’m calling the hospital!” You cry to him, your eyes full of worry. It breaks your heart to talk to him like that, but he didn’t listen to you when you were nice and if you need to break your own heart to save his life, then so be it.

“I’m sorry, I only looked at my phone for one second…” he tries to explain, but fuck if that doesn’t make you even more angry.

“You looked at your phone in the middle of a fight?! I’m having a cold Midoriya, not a terminal illness that will take me away randomly!”

“Don’t call me that…” Midoriya’s eyes are full of tears and that only makes you cry harder; it’s extremely hard to breathe, your already stuffed nose not letting any air into your lungs. Your door gets smashed in suddenly and you both jump; Midoriya makes a tiny whine from the pain.

“Okay, this shit show ends now.” Bakugou barges in and puts Midoriya on his shoulders like he’s nothing but a sack of potatoes. “Deku, you are going to the hospital.” He grumbles. “Freeloader, you hide that fucking bedsheet before Auntie gets a heart attack when she comes in from the living room.”

“Mum is here?” Midoriya mumbles with a pale face. The weakness of his voice makes you cry again.

“Yes fucker, she’ll take care of your girlfriend while you get your ass treated. You are not going back to work today. We’re going to use your window so she won’t freak out. Now shut the fuck up and chill for the fucks sake, what kind of fucking drama is this anyway? Honestly, you need to get a grip, you fucker! She’s just fucking sick. Stop being an idiot!” Bakugou doesn’t stop talking as he jumps out of the window; you can hear him yelling at the greenette until their silhouettes disappear in the sea of skyscrapers. When you hear the footsteps coming from the living room, you quickly hide the top sheets under the bed.

“I heard a lot of yelling, are you okay?” Mama Midoriya comes in but she stops at the door when she sees your teary face. “Honey, what happened?” Inko runs over to hug you. You try your best to not cry even harder as she embraces you the same way a mother embraces her child.

“He doesn’t have any sense of self preservation, I can’t do this. It’s my fault, everything is my fault…” you bawl like a baby, your words so mumbled she probably can’t understand the half of it.

“Is there something bloody hidden under your bed, honey?” She mumbles into your ear and you freeze; Katsuki went above and beyond to make sure Inko doesn’t see his injured son yet you managed to mess up everything in the first 30 seconds. Well done.

“… N-no?” You stutter but Inko only laughs at that.

“Y/N, I know those two like the back of my hands. I heard yelling then Kacchan disappeared through the window, together with my son. I might be a working class woman but I’m not stupid.” The lady smiles. “I used to cry so much when my boy got injured but it’s the part of the job. I can’t believe they still try to hide this away from me. I was the one who treated Izuku’s wounds in the first few years. I was the one who washed his blood soaked clothes. Honestly, these two boys… they are a handful.”

“It was my fault, I’m sorry…” You try to apologize but Inko puts her hands on your mouth.

“Oh, shush now, Sweet Pea. It’s his own fault for not taking care of himself. He should have called me right away. This isn’t a first time I take care of his friends while he’s on duty. But I guess you are special. He wanted to take care of you himself.” Inko looks at you with a knowing look. “Don’t be too hard on him when he comes back, okay? He’s probably really heartbroken right now. He takes everything so seriously…”

“I yelled at him.” You sniffle. “I yelled at him and told him I don’t want him here. I didn’t mean it…”

“I know, honey. But you thought this is the best you can do to keep him safe. Thank you.” Inko keeps rubbing your back soothingly and the movement makes your sick brain feel super woozy - in a nice way. You could really sleep in Mama Midoriya’s arms. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a minute, honey? Let’s kick this cold in the butt so you two can make up and be happy again, yeah?” The soothing little circles lulls you to sleep really quickly; the next time you wake up it’s the next morning; you are alone in your room, there is water and breakfast ready for you by your bedside and there’s also a little pot of pink flowers sitting next to your pancakes. By the look of it, they were planted really quickly and you must add, really messily but you know these flowers; they are pink kisses, the flowers you made Midoriya buy for the garden when you first moved in. You really want to cry right now.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” Inko comes in with a sleepy face; you really hope she didn’t sleep on the sofa. Knowing Izuku, he probably let his mother sleep in his bed while he crashed on the sofa even though he’s hurt. You want to strangle that man and kiss him senseless, all at the same time.

“Much better, thank you. That disgusting thing with ginger really helped.” You giggle. “How is he?” You ask in a serious tone, worried. The poor guy went out into your garden and dug a flower out of the fucking dirt. He must feel so guilty for everything he’s done and probably has the wrong idea about your feelings as well. You really need to talk to him. As soon as possible.

“He’s okay… right, Izuku?” Inko smiles and suddenly, there is another green head in your view; Izuku looks so tired, his eyes red-rimmed and full of regret.

“Izu…” Things happen really quickly; Izuku is at the door one moment and in your bed in the next; he hugs you like he haven’t seen you for a year, grabbing your shirt anxiously while he buries his head into your neck. “I smell really bad…” you mumble self-consciously, but he only buries his head in deeper.

“I’m so sorry.” He sniffs and you really can’t take this anymore; you embrace the man so tightly he ends up making a little noise of discomfort.

“Ahh, sorry, did I hurt you? You got injured yesterday, I’m so sorry!” You ramble but Izuku only smiles. Inko slowly backs out of the room and closes the door behind her to give you some privacy. Bless that woman.

“I got healed by recovery girl, I’m fine. I’m sorry I made you worry and for being a ‘creepy ass fuck’ as Kacchan has said.” Poor Izuku looks so dejected you can’t help but caress his cheeks to cheer him up.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. You were hurt and I only made it worse for you. Look at your eyes, love, they are so red and puffy…” You barely realize what you’ve just said. It just slipped out without your knowledge. Oh, you really fucked up this time, you really…

“I love the sound of that nickname.” He mutters with a red face. “You are forgiven. You’ll always be forgiven, Sweet Pea.”

“And so will you, Izu.” You mutter back with teary eyes. “Whatever you do, I’ll be here, waiting for you to come home to me again.”

This is the last straw for your poor heart. You are in love with him. You can’t fucking lie to yourself anymore. He’s the most perfect creature you’ve ever met in your life with all his weird habits and stupid shenanigans. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You really need to take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second to not act on your instincts and kiss the man in front of you.

“Promise?” Deku smiles, his pinky lacing together with yours.

“Promise.”

~•🥦•~

After a few days, you feel good as new; at last, you can safely snuggle with your favorite roommate as you two enjoy a movie on this lovely afternoon.

“Hey, Sweet Pea…” Midoriya mumbles shyly. It weirdly sounds like a beginning of a question so you look up at the green haired hero. “So, my mom told me off for not listening to the doctors and getting glasses for home to read and to watch the TV, so… what do you think?”

“About you in glasses? Or about you being an insufferable little bitch about using them?” You grin when Izuku makes that funny squeaky noise he usually does when he’s being bullied.

“Excuse me, first of all, I’m not an insufferable little bitch about it, I just forgot to get my glasses done. Second of all, stop chatting with Kacchan when I’m not around.” Izuku pouts, so you give him a little kiss on his cheek to stop his incoming tantrum.

“You are literally so obsessed with him you have all his merch, is it really a bad thing if I sound like that?” You continue your teasing, because you are an asshole.

“Well, first of all…” Midoriya is about to start ranting but he gets cut off by your loud laugh.

“First of all, stop saying first of all over and over!” You talk back, still snuggled close to him, your hands playing with his fingers in his lap.

Yes, friendzone be damned, you two can’t stop touching each other since the fight, and no, not in that way, obviously, but you can’t lie, it is constant. Good morning kiss on the cheeks, good night kiss on the forehead, a ‘well done’ caress after finishing a commission, ‘thank fuck you are alive’ kiss on Izuku’s shoulder because you can’t reach his face properly without jumping up on him like a monkey, fingers entwining while watching a movie on the sofa, secret sniffs of the other’s skin after a shower… Long story short, it’s bad but neither of you really care at this point.

“I don’t want you to sound like Kacchan, because one is perfectly enough of him. Also, I’m getting those glasses, so if you see a new man sitting on the sofa, please refrain from attacking him with a mop again.” Izuku giggles, reminding you of your second encounter in the living room.

“Nah, I would know it’s you even if you take away all my senses.” You smile with a fond look on your face. You are so fucking obvious it’s actually hilarious.

“That’s highly unlikely, but I’m still fluttered.” Midoriya smiles back with a dorky look.

“Damn, you don’t even have your glasses yet but you already sound like a fucking nerd.”

“That’s it princess, you are going to the naughty jail!” Midoriya giggles and makes a move towards you. You look at him with questioning eyes.

“The wha… oh my god, Izu, stop!” You whine as the hero lands on top of you, viciously tickling you on your super ticklish sides, movie long forgotten. If you two end up staying in this position after tiring yourselves out by playfully fighting on the comfy sofa then falling asleep in each other’s arms, that’s no one’s fucking business.

Fuck, you really do sound like Katsuki these days.

~•🥦•~

EXTRA - A few days before

Deku’s mental health support group

Green oblivious idiot: Even her snores are cute…

Kacchan: Jesus ducking Christ Deku.

Kacchan: ducking

Shitty Hair: 🦆

Kacchan: I ducking hate you all.

Kacchan: Duck’s sake

Green, oblivious idiot: 🦆

Kacchan has left the group.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- This was actually supposed to be a 2 parter but I have so many chapters sitting in my notes I decided to post both of the chapters together haha I hope you enjoyed the little treat!

- The next chapter is my personal favorite one and guys… you are not ready.

- HEY VIETNAMESE FRIENDS, this story is being translated to Vietnamese by the lovely @tlam105! Thank you very much for your hard work! 🩷🩷🩷🩷 CLICK HERE IF YOU WANNA READ IT!!

- Eyy, Izuku has issues, man 😂 Someone needs to give that poor guy a chill pill. I’m really not sure how the heck did he manage to look at his phone during battle though, I’m quite sure he was hiding somewhere and that’s when he took his phone out, not in the middle of an actual battle but that doesn’t make it any better.

- I have a confession to make; I finished this story a few days ago and I’m really emotional right now 😂 the story will end with week 10, BUT! You know me and how much I love this story so there will be a second season! We will see more of Izuku’s weird habits in that one! It will just as fun as the first season was! 🥦 I already finished the new header for it 😂 I really hope you like the ending! (which ain’t an ending but you know what I mean.)

- My boyfriend is cutting onions and I can’t see from the tears so if there’s a mistake in the potato ramble bit I’m sorry I’m literally blind. TMI, I know.

See you next week! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! I love to hear your thoughts! 🥦🩷

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya izuku #mha midoriya #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #pro hero deku x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you

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ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

@sneepywhoopy : Hi, I really like your headcannons ! I don't remember if you've already done that, but what would the village ladies' reaction be to an s/o who's a sleepwalker and does stupid things like running right into a wall, talking nonsense, jumping from the top of alcina's castle etc ?

Hi! I wrote something where Y/N confesses their love for the RE8 women in their sleep check it out here! But, I like this idea too, so I'mma roll with this prompt! Also, thank you so much! Let’s get into it!

Alcina:

Alcina is no stranger to your nighttime murmuring. She will sometimes wake up to hear your voice and just listen to what you have to say.

However, when you start moving and eventually start walking in your sleep, Alcina has great cause for alarm.

A few times you have wandered in your sleep, only to be guided back to you and Alcina’s shared bedroom by a frightened maid.

One time, you bolted up out of bed saying how you needed to go make coffee and Alcina chased you up onto the roof.

You tried to jump off the top of the castle, but Alcina grabbed you before you could fall.

She keeps a dead bolt on her door now.

Donna:

Donna is a very light sleeper. If you so much as yawn she’ll wake up.

Donna has alerted her dolls to the fact that you tend to walk in your sleep. It’s nice for her to know she’s got a few helping hands.

Sometimes, you’ll be guided by some dolls to your bedroom or to sit on a nearby chair until Donna can get you.

One of the funniest things she has seen you do is have a tea party with Angie and a few other dolls while you are still asleep.

She joins you happily. She and the dolls get a good laugh at the funny things you say.

All in all, if you have to sleepwalk, it’s good you live in Donna’s house. You have a lot of little buddies to keep you safe.

Miranda:

Miranda is used to your nighttime restlessness.

She finds it rather adorable actually.

Sometimes she will record the things you talk about and do. She lets you read what she saw during the night to see if that makes any difference the next time you sleep.

It doesn’t, but win some lose some, you know?

While Miranda does not sleep much (Maybe four hours in a twenty-four hour period tops), when she is asleep, she tries to make sure you are awake so she does not have to worry about you getting into trouble.

Miranda likes to lie down next to you and rub your head while she listens to you ramble. It’s peaceful for her.

Bela:

For as hyper-alert as is she is when she is awake, Bela sleeps like a rock.

She always needs a good eight hours of sleep a night, which is valid… But it also means that her sisters have to wrangle you when you wander out around the castle in your sleep.

Bela enjoys hearing of what you did during the night. She’ll sip her morning tea calmly and listen to her sisters complain about your adventures.

She feels warm inside because she knows that you care deeply for her family and they feel the same about you. Cass and Dani wouldn’t go out of their way to keep you from getting into trouble unless they really loved you.

It only cements in her mind how special you are to her and that she made a good choice in deciding to pursue a relationship with you.

Cassandra:

I’ve mentioned this before, but Cass likes to lie right on top of you while you sleep.

She loves snuggling you and doesn’t want you to wander away. She knows how bad your sleepwalking can get.

If you wake up and try to move, she’ll know and gently push you back down.

You are surprisingly strong, though. One time, Cass tried to lay you back down only for you to completely throw her off of the bed.

Cass was pissed. Not only did you manage to fight her off, but you did it in your sleep.

Cass monitors your caffeine intake after 5:00 o'clock and promptly cuts off any sodas or coffee. She notices this change tends to make your sleepwalking better.

You complain about it sometimes, but Cass crosses her arms and stands firm which makes you listen. Don’t mess with this Dimitrescu.

Daniela:

Dani finds your sleepwalking endlessly entertaining.

Sometimes to the point of setting up obstacle courses for you to get through.

Alcina walked in to see her doing this one time and shook her head while muttering “Poor Y/N”.

Dani also likes to play games with you while you are asleep.

She loves truth or dare. You almost always pick dare and she’ll come up with funny things for you to do. Her favorite was when she made you run head first into a wall.

You woke up the next morning with a huge headache. You asked Dani what happened and she sheepishly told you.

You busted out laughing. You thought it was hilarious.

As fun as Dani thinks you are when you’re awake, she must admit that getting to see you sleepwalk has its perks too.

Masterlist

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animasola86 · 6 months

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Sebastian Sallow Headcanons (revisited)

I made a similar post a while back, but I think it's time to revisit it.

Sebastian Sallow is a Scorpio (born between Oct 23 and Nov 22).

Typical Scorpio traits include being resourceful, ambitious, brave, (com)passionate, possessive, jealous, loyal, supportive, emotional, intense. I’d say he is all that. Also fits the Slytherin characteristics.

I don't have a particular date in mind for him anymore, but I'd say around Halloween or after would suit him and Anne. (I haven't looked at the actual Astrology aspect of it, leaving that to the experts here!)

He is a nerd and an athlete.

He is the kind of nerd who will hit you with knowledge when you least expect it and never as the know-it-all type, but rather the let-me-share-my-knowledge type. I'm sure he'll be actually fun at parties.

And I see no problem in him being hunched over books for hours on end and being physically fit at the same time. (Yes, he seemed a little unfit at the start of fifth year, being all breathless on the way to Hogsmeade and during a mission up some stairs, but I'll ignore that. He'll grow into it.)

So he's not only fit enough to brave all those stairs in Hogwarts, I also see him on the Quidditch team. I initially had him as a Beater in my head, and I still stand by it, but I do see him as a Seeker as well now, just because how he can show off by catching the Snitch.

(I don't see him as a Chaser, too average a position for him imo, or a Keeper, I think he'd be too hyper to stay in one place all the time, even though his protective trait might play into it, but he can focus on that more when he hits some Bludgers around.)

He is tall.

I also HC that Ominis is taller, but Sebastian is still tall. I put him at 1.80m/180cm (5′11″) initially, but I might even put him taller now. He'll definitely have another growth spurt during his last years at Hogwarts and grow into an even taller adult, so for now, let's settle on him being 1.85m/185cm/6'1" at the end of the game. (Angst can make you grow, yes.)

(And I need him to be tall because my MCs usually are quite short and I just love that size difference dynamic so much!)

He is an extrovert.

He might have his baggage to carry during his fifth year (and beyond), but he still has many extrovert tendencies, especially needing people around to recharge - even if it's just one person (our MC preferably). He is a twin, so being alone was never really an option before Anne got sick.

That's why he hates being alone, he'll certainly have his mind flooded with doubts and dark thoughts if he happens to be alone. That might make him clingy and/or overprotective towards his significant other/friends, but if it helps him sleep at night, he won't hesitate to hog those special people to his advantage.

He is a light sleeper.

And probably has nightmares more than your average boy considering all the stress he puts himself under, with his worries for Anne and the constant abuse from Solomon and his general past (loss of his parents, etc.).

Yet even though he might have trouble falling asleep and sleeping in general, I do think he can sleep anywhere, thinking about the shed in Feldcroft that the fandom considers to be his place to stay when he visits his sister. Also as a twin he was probably used to sharing small spaces and finding sleep wherever he can.

He can't sit still for long.

Call it ADHD, restless legs syndrome or general nerves, he probably can't sit still and has to fidget a lot as well. Might conflict with his ability to absorb himself in books for hours on end, but even when reading, I'd imagine him moving a lot (think back to him pacing in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, or his constant walking cycle through the DADA tower, etc.).

His favorite color is green.

Obvious choice, I just needed something to end this with. So here we go. Green for Slytherin, for nature, and maybe, probably hope? Who knows.

[ 🔞 NSFW Sebastian Sallow Headcanons ]

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow headcanons

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one-green-frog · 2 months

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Could you maybe do Hobie x ftm!reader who got his period and has really bad cramps/is sick on his period??

I kinda have ideas for this too!! Hobie and reader were cuddled up on the couch in Hobie's canal boat, and they fall asleep. But, at ass o'clock in the morning, Hobie wakes up for whatever reason— but reader is gone. Then Hobie goes to look for him and finds him in the bathroom getting sick :(( Hobie helps him clean up and just comforts him for a while idk anymore?? Probably just a bunch of fluff from there on

P.S this is from the same anon who made the other hobie req:3 (I loved it btw thank youu🫶)

Soooo... I know it's been.. a while but here it is... I kinda hate it but it's been too long again. Been really stressed, i hope i will better myself. But thank you for requesting!!!

Period Pains

Hobie x ftm!reader

It had been a long day for both Y/N and Hobie, being Spiderman wasn't easy and working a stressful 9-5 shift, with some of the rudest customers at some shitty fast food chain also wasn't the greatest thrill in life. But luckily every shitty day comes to an end and that meant the greatest ever cuddle time at Hobie's boat. It was definitely the best time of the day, and the boat added some extra special feeling to it. It was better then coming home to a small apartment that cost way too much with little room the decorate. The small waves hitting the boat, softly swaying it left and right was also a massive bonus, but ultimately the best part was it's owner, who is currently occupied with cuddling his lover on the couch.

A long day always ended like this. No talking, no TV, just them holding each other softly, letting go of all the stress. The swaying of the boat slowly coaxed them down the road of slumber.

It was a peacful night until Hobie's boyfriend-instincts awoke him from the amazing dream he had. Confused, Hobie looked around, hands reaching everywhere to feel for Y/N, until he noticed light in the bathroom, and after fully shaking of his sleep, he also heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, before knocking on the door and slowly entering. Y/N looked up to him, tears in his eyes, hunched over the toilet, shaking from pain caused by, what he only could assume was his period.

Periods were always the worst for Y/N not only because it was a reminder that he was born in the wrong body, but they were also extremely painful, debilitating, so severe that he had to spend most of his time in the bathroom, drowning in pain medication and hot-water bottles.

Thankfully Y/N could count on Hobie to be by his side the entire time, hardly ever leaving his boat, sometimes even neglecting his spider-man duties to make sure his Lover was taken care of. No matter how small of an ask Hobie would be there, be it cooking lunch and delivering it to Y/N in the bathroom or holding him when the cramps were just a bit too much.

Hobie immediately knelt down next to him, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him

"You want me to get you something, love?" Hobie asked, voice soft as to not cause a headache too.

Y/N could only shake his head, the pain too immense to even try to talk and his throat hoars from throwing up.

It wasn't uncommon for them to spent hours in the bathroom whenever Y/N's period hit, no, it's quite obvious that both of them wouldn't get to sleep anytime soon, and while Y/N often felt bad for making Hobie stay up and take care of him, his boyfriend was always quick to reassure him that it's not a chore, and he would rather be by his side when he's suffering and try to reduce the pain. After all, Y/N would do the same, he already spends hours upon hours flicking him together after Spider-man had a rough fight

Hobie stayed there right next to his boyfriend and while he could hardly do anything to relive the pain, the comfortinghand on Y/N back did more than enough. Hours passed, by now the sun was up, and luckily the pain subsided, but it left Y/N drained of any energy, even breathing was hard, after all, he just spend the whole night throwing up and crying, not to mention the pain coursing through his body.

Hobie slowly brought his arms around Y/N lifted hin up and slwoly carried him to the couch to finally rest. After laying him down, Hobie gathered the blanket that laid on the floor, before slowly laying down next to his boyfriend and covering both of them with the blanket.

I kinda have been really hating my life for a while, it's just stress with family and school, i don't really have much time for writing rn, but i hope I'll manage

#male reader #x male reader #atsv hobie #astv #request #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie x male reader #hobie x reader #atsv #atsv hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x male reader

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yurislotusgarden · 9 months

Text

Menaces in Love

ʚїɞ Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 825

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, probably ooc Chuuya, you and Chuuya are married in this one loves, pet names used: doll, reader's gender is not specified in any way (hopefully), you both are goddamn menaces but in this one, it's mostly reader

It’s 3:07 am, a normal hour for the both of you to be awake. Chuuya was trying to fall asleep as he had to go out early in the morning, but goddammit are you not letting him do that. You’ve been asking dumb questions for the past half an hour, and surprisingly been quiet for the past 5 minutes. The ginger’s savoring it, to say the least.

Such a sad fact is that his dumbass of a spouse can’t stay quiet.

“Chuu?” A murmur came from behind, Your arms around his waist, a nice position, only if he could sleep.

“What is it this time?” The tone used by Chuuya is with no questions, showing being done.

“...I’m just thinking… what if aliens think that we are the aliens?” The [h/c]ette said with a for some reason serious tone, which caused questions in the gingers head, looking at the question asked.

Chuuya turned around, confused to hell and back “The fuck you talking about?”

Let’s just say there was a debate on that for over an hour and Chuuya indeed didn’t get his beauty sleep.

/////////////////////

It isn’t you.

The only thing on Chuuya’s mind were those simple 3 words.

Your dear husband has gotten sent on a longer mission, one that can take up to a week, and mind you, but our beloved short stack would want his routine cuddles right now. If there’s one thing he hates to miss, it’s those goddamn cuddles.

At the moment it was 4 am, and the short figure of his could be seen laying widely awake on the hotel bed, hugging a pillow, wishing and trying to imagine it was his beloved spouse.

“Goddammit, maybe they’re right, maybe I’m the clingy one”

///////////////////

5 am, that’s how late, or perhaps early, Chuuya came back to the apartment. He tried to be quiet, in case that you were asleep.

Wishful thinking.

The moment the ginger came relatively close to the bed, he was pulled down into a pair of arms.

“Missed you” A murmur from under him.

“I know, I missed you too” A quiet answer. A hand on your head, running though your hair.

The short figure chuckled, completely expecting something like this but still amused. A similar situation happens every time he’s on a mission longer than 3 days.

“Have you slept lately?” Came the question from him, brown eyes looking at your face as much as he can in this position.

“Of course”

Chuuya knew it’s a lie, after all, you always had problems with sleeping if you were unsure of whether the ginger’s safe or not. The distance didn’t help for sure, but there’s no sense in pointing it out.

“I have free today if that helps, we can sleep in” Chuuya indeed does, Mori gave him a day off. For what reasons? The male doesn't know, and he thinks he’d rather stay in the dark on this one.

“Perfect, because there’s no way in hell we're getting out of this bed until 12”

//////////////////

“Alright alright alright but what about this?”

The ginger groans, he just wants to sleep. “Go to sleep”

“Do you think that we would still be together in an alternate universe?” A teasing whisper, where the ginger can practically hear your smile.

“Go to sleep” “What if Chuuya’s a girl there?” “Go to sleep” An excited gasp could be heard. “What if we have kids there by now-”

“you’re about to sleep on the couch-”

//////////////////

“I have a serious question”

Chuuya looked over to the doorway from where he was sitting. “An actual serious question or is it serious in your eyes only?”

A frown could be seen on your face. “An actual serious question Chuu Chuu”

The ginger head only scowled at the nickname and stopped himself from making a comeback. He really doesnt know where you got the nickname from. “Then shoot”

“... Why me?” You answered in a quiet soft voice, making Chuuya confused. If there’s one thing he knows from all these years of knowing you, it’s that you don’t act like this unless you’re actually serious or truthful, just generally this kind of moments.

“Dumbass, it’s obvious” He couldn't stop himself from a small teasing while turning back around, just how dumb can his spouse get?

You groan. “Chuu! C’mon just answer my question!” Chuuya softly chuckles.

“Are you gonna answer or am I gonna stay in the dark?”

“...When I saw you, everyone else seemed to disappear”

////////////

“Listen Chuu. I can get your cereal-soup argument, but there’s absolutely nothing you can say or do in this universe to convince me that a hot dog is a fucking sandwich”

“Wha- What do you mean?” The ginger was confused, why do you not get it? “Doll, it’s simple! Imagine the bread around as normal bread and the inside-”

“No!”

Both of you sometimes wonder why you’re married to each other of all people.

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

#thinking of menace talking is hard #why #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #nakahara chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #gender neautral reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #fluff

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consistencynevermether · 8 months

Text

Breaking down walls- Astarion x reader

Astarion x "uses humor to cope" reader, second person POV, 1.4k words, gn reader

tw- Mentions of Cazador, nothing else really?

a/n- ive been so obsessed with this little dude i love him sm. this is my first time writing fanfic online so any advice is welcome :)

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You had never been good at genuine emotions. It was always so much easier to joke about such things, as a way to make people feel less shitty about their situation than to actually talk about the reality of things.

It’s what you had done with Karlach, making up all sorts of outrageous stories about the fun you and your best friend could get into once she was free from the furnace that burned inside of her. Even though deep down you had no idea how to free her from the flames.

You had done it with Gale, making up jokes about his stereotypical “wizards tower” whenever he was feeling down about Mystra. Even though deep down you had no idea how he was supposed to cope with what she demanded of him.

It was easy to joke. To make people feel good and laugh for a short amount of time. That’s what you told yourself.

But the truth was, the alternative was hard. Feelings, reality, genuine bonds, they all meant you had to put down your walls. And the other person had to do the same. And deep down, you feared letting down your walls for someone, only for them to keep theirs up.

It was probably why you liked Astarion so much. While you put up a front of jokes, he puts up a front of flirty advances. Both of you knew you were putting on an act, yet neither minded. Neither dared try to climb the other's wall.

And so the two of you formed a bit of a routine, he would flirt, and you would tease. Both of you dancing around how you really felt like leaves fluttering in the wind. A subtle glance there and a stray brush of the fingers here made you think, or maybe hope, that he really felt something for you. Just a little. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on your part.

But he’d never seen the sadness in your eyes when he would say those sweet words to you, both knowing he didn’t mean them. And if you had any say in it, he never would. It was better that way. Easier. Safer. And you’d be damned if you ruined the current relationship you had with him. Because at least you got to be close. A few genuine words among a sea of deception was far better than him shutting you out completely. Better savor what little you can have than lose it all right?

That had been your mantra, right up until that night.

You had had a bout of insomnia the night before, and so you had offered to take the first watch tonight. You'd hoped staying up extra late meant that after your watch you would instantly crash and hopefully fix your sleep schedule a little.

It had started a little before midnight, you had heard Astarion mumbling something under his breath, tossing and turning. You had heard somewhere that elves only sleep for about 4 hours, so you figured it was best to leave him be. He’d be up soon anyway.

And that plan worked fabulously. For about 5 minutes until the mumbles became more like cries for help. You knew what, or rather who he was dreaming about, and it hurt to see him in so much pain.

Lifting yourself up from the rock you were seated on, you made your way to shake him awake, only for Astarion to shoot upright as you were about to grab his shoulder.

Your eyes met, only inches apart, your face filled with mild shock and his with horror.

Quickly recovering, you took a step back, giving him proper space so as to not add to his obvious terror. Unfortunately for you, trying to get away meant stumbling over your own crouched form and landing on your rear with a yelp.

For a second you both sat there, you not daring to even breathe too loudly. while he looked at you in slight confusion, though that was mostly covered by the blinding terror still on his face.

You sat there in silence for a few more moments, before your brain finally kicked in and you realized you needed to say something, now. Preferably without sounding like a complete lunatic, freak, or wackjob.

“I-“

you open your mouth to speak, but Astarion beats you to it, his velvety voice cutting through your uncertain, cracking tone.

“You know, you’re not the first person I’ve left speechless, although normally it’s for quite a different reason.”

Astarion's tone was playful, but the slight shake in his voice was obvious. Once again, you couldn’t see beyond the walls he had built.

“Anyways love, sorry for disturbing your watch. Feel free to go b-“

“I was thinking of what to say.”

Your sudden interruption earned an eyebrow raise from the pale elf.

“That hard for you darling? Maybe because you’re stunned by how beautiful I look when asleep?”

He was giving you a way out. A way to laugh this all off and pretend like it never even happened the next morning. If it were any other time you might have taken it. If you didn’t see the fear in his eyes. If you didn’t see the way his hands were still shaking. If deep down, you didn’t want to break down your walls for him.

Before you could think better of it, you opened your mouth.

“I could say that Cazador can’t hurt you anymore. That you're safe here. But you're clearly hurting, so that isn’t true.”

Now it was Astarion’s turn to look shocked. He hadn’t mentioned the dream was about Cazador but he didn’t have to. You knew all the same. He looked like he wanted to say something, to object maybe, but if you didn’t say what you wanted to say now you may never do it again. So you spoke again before he could.

“I could say that I’m going to rip that bastard limb from limb for you, but-“

You shrug and gesture vaguely to the camp around you. The supplies you all had managed to scrounge together, and your weary companions sleeping silently nearby

“We don’t exactly have a plan now, do we? Hells we can’t even figure out how to be rid of this damn tadpole. So saying that’s definitely out, nobody wants to hear empty promises”

A dry bark of laughter escaped Astarion,s lips, probably out of shock from your brutal honesty, but you weren’t done yet.

You opened your mouth one more time, voice shaky but eyes locked onto his all the same.

“I could-

I could tell you that I don’t know everything about your past. About what all he did to you. But I do know that whatever your future holds, I will be there. I will stand beside you and I will not leave. No matter what you choose I will support you. I will stay. And you will not go back Astarion. You will never go back under him. Not while I breathe. Not when you can still fight. You won’t do this alone, I swear that to you.”

And just like that you had broken down your walls. There were no jokes, no double meanings, no way out of it. Because despite the fear, you wanted to be seen. And you wanted to see him too. Not the act that he put up, but the real genuine version of him, scars and all.

Astarion looked at you in silence, it was his turn to be rendered speechless. Despite all your bravado before, this was terrifying. Honestly, jumping into a pit of hungry manticores seemed more appealing than this current conversation. You looked down at the ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. A million thoughts ran through your mind, but no matter what you wouldn’t take it back. You couldn’t go back to stealing glances at him and smiling at his honeyed words, secretly wishing he’d meant them. Not again, you just ca-

A cool hand against yours stopped your train of thought right in its tracks.

Long, slender, Pale fingers wrapped around yours. And your mind went silent.

You whipped your head up to Astarion, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were focused on the horizon, not even stealing a glimpse in your direction. But he gently weaved your fingers together more. His grasp was firm, yet still slightly shaking.

A crack in his wall. A start. A glimpse at the real Astarion you so desperately wished to see.

You sat together in silence. Your hands never left each other's grasp, not until you were eventually overtaken by sleep.

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