#and that he has a journal detailing your every move
Note
Absolutely love the possessive ex Scaramouche ramble in tags, please feed us more of that.
Gladly!! :D
(cw: yandere, extremely toxic ex scara, modern au, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, coercion, obsession, forced marriage, violent/suicidal threats, manipulation, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, implied self-harm)
The two of you were what everyone calls ‘high school sweethearts.’ You met him in the cafeteria when the both of you were first years. Despite the scowl etched on his face, he looked lonely sitting all by himself while everyone was finding tables, old and new friends gathering in groups. He’d ignored you, even scooting further away when you’d attempt to move closer. Even though he seemed so averse to you, you remained, silently eating your lunch. Neither of you said anything, but you did introduce yourself. He scoffed under his breath.
You started to sit next to him for every lunch, and he continued to give you the silent treatment. You never pressed him for conversation, instead choosing to enjoy silence while you ate and admired him from the sidelines. He never looked at you, always facing forwards and toying with his chopsticks, bending them so far until they were ready to snap. Eventually, he seemed to grow accustomed to this routine because many weeks into the semester he turned to address you.
“Why do you always sit by me? Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”
“Maybe. But I don’t think anyone’s as mysterious as you are.”
“‘Mysterious…’ Yeah, whatever.”
That seemed to be the catalyst because, as sardonic as he was, he’d begun talking to you. And it wasn’t long until he started to warm up to you every lunch until the both of you were exchanging lighthearted banter. Your friendship would only grow from this point onwards until, at the end of your first year during a study session to prepare for finals, where you were both pulling an all-nighter at your house, he’d asked you out. And you said yes, and the both of you had gone from best friends to lovers within the span of a year. The both of you were each other’s first partner, so it made doing things as a couple even more exciting because neither of you had any experience with dates or holding hands or kissing.
Kuni wasn’t a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was very loyal and sweet. He’d stand up for you if anyone was being rude to you or scrutinizing your relationship with hateful eyes. The two of you were nearly inseparable. When you weren’t spending time together in school, you were out doing things together. And when you couldn’t meet up in person, you’d text or call, sometimes talking late into the evening about all sorts of things. You were so immersed in him that you failed to notice the red flags slowly raising over time. But looking back there were a few notable ones.
He never invited you to his house. In fact, you’d never even met his parents, whereas he’d been to your home so often that your family practically became his own. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and if you tried to suggest going to his house for dinner so that he could introduce you to them he was quick to change the subject. For a while you’d push this, more curious than concerned, but eventually you’d drop it when it became clear that he wasn’t going to divulge anything on the matter. That had stung, but you snuffed those feelings in favor of focusing on other aspects of your relationship.
The second red flag was just how clingy he became when the both of you were in your third year, having been together for two solid years. You never noticed it before because you loved him, but when friends had pointed out how attached he seemed—and it was to rather unhealthy levels, according to their observations—to the point where you were the only person he’d ever formed a bond with while at school you started to see the cracks in what felt like the perfect relationship. He’d text you every single day, at every single hour, all the time. He’d call you nonstop, even more so when you didn’t immediately pick up.
The third red flag coincided with the second. When you couldn’t make it to your phone, he was quick to blame himself and those around him for being responsible for your deteriorating relationship. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did those guys bother you again? They probably told you some stupid shit about me, right? Don’t listen to them. Hey, you’re not mad, right? Call me back. I need to talk to you. Just text me when you can, okay? (Name), please don’t leave me. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. Just promise you’ll stay. Messages of these kinds were what you could expect to receive from him. He’d fluctuate between self-loathing to loathing those around him within seconds, shoving blame onto classmates who’d bully him for being that “weird emo kid with too many piercings” and anyone else who tried to, in his words, “come between you and me.”
By the end of your third year, you started to fall out of love. He was so very dedicated to this relationship, evidenced by how much effort and care he’d put into it, but his clingy behavior was stifling. You’d lost some of your own friends because he chased them away, and it felt like you couldn’t do anything without him breathing down your neck. If you wanted to go anywhere with a friend or two, Kuni had to be there to accompany you. If you looked at another for too long, he’d think you were cheating. If you didn’t text or call him at certain times, if you failed to pick up, or—Archons forbid—you left him on seen, he’d spiral.
Kuni had this habit of sounding dangerously self-destructive when he feared you were being unfaithful or he thought you were going to break up with him, which meant you’d have to sit on the phone for hours convincing him that you loved him, that you’d never leave him, that you’d always be here for him, that you were sorry for not responding, that he needs to calm down and please, please, please don’t do anything rash. Those phone calls were always so stressful. You cried a lot; you’d beg him to put the knife away when he’d threaten to use it on himself, on you, on anyone who might try to take you from him. And, after a few hours of this, he’d be back to his usual self, as if a switch had been flipped. You could hear his adoring smile in his voice when he spoke, when he’d lovingly whisper into the phone, “I’m happy you’re mine. I love you so much.” And you’d shakily parrot the affirmation, too frazzled to say or do anything else.
One of your best friends Rosalyne, who you’d befriended in the midst of all of this, had been so supportive the minute you spilled the truth to her. Kuni hated her the most because she wasn’t afraid of him. Because she’d shut him down when he tried to pull you away from her. Because she wouldn’t approve of any of his toxicity. Rosalyne would take you on shopping sprees, brunch dates, and jogs at the local park. She was plenty of good to outshine Kuni’s bad, and the more time you spent with her the clearer your head would become. The both of you had plenty of sleepovers together, and she let you rant your heart out while she listened. She’d tell you to break up with him, but you’d agonized over how terrifying that would be. You couldn’t bear to tell Kuni the truth—that you wanted to separate because things had turned so rotten—because you were so scared. Scared of him and what he might do.
Scared that if he really did take a blade to himself it would be your fault. He told you that a lot. That it would be your fault if he did anything. That his blood would be on your hands. You believed him every time.
By your final year, you’d already had a plan for university outlined and you’d started applying to a few in advance. You never told Kuni about any of them because you worried he might apply to each one in hopes of going to the same school as you. And when there was the dance for the graduating class and Kuni had asked you to it, you’d told him you were going with Rosalyne and a few other friends as a group. He didn’t like this, as expected, but you’d been so sick of him and his behaviors that you snapped and spilled everything to him. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him that you were done with the relationship and that you never wanted to see him again.
He looked as if he could lunge at you and tear you to bloody ribbons at any moment.
You graduated single and so very refreshed, and your summer had been filled with friends. Kuni didn’t message you at all, which was surprising considering you were certain he’d spam you relentlessly after the break-up. But he never did. In fact, you never saw him again. Graduation had come and gone, and now that you could recover from such a terrible relationship he was becoming less of a burden for you. For a while you were anxious. You kept expecting to receive a phone call or to see some news about Kuni, but neither ever came. Rosalyne told you to stop thinking about him. It would only make you even more paranoid and that wouldn’t do your mental health any good. You were so grateful to have her in your life, but most importantly you were glad Kuni failed to scare her away.
Now you’re a second year in college and things have only gotten so much better for you. You and Rosalyne still keep in touch despite going to different schools. She’d gone to a university in Snezhnaya, while you enrolled in one in Sumeru, and you’ve blotted Kuni from your mind. You’ve made a fresh group of friends while attending classes: criminal justice major Shikanoin Heizou, creative writing major Kaedehara Kazuha, musical therapy major Venti, botany major Tighnari, and so many more wonderful people who have all welcomed you into their circles.
So when Venti drags a familiar face to your usual weekend outing, which is really just a retreat to the forest for drinking and smoking, creeping cold settles into your bones. He looks awkward with Venti’s arm slung around him as the more bubbly of the two drags him towards the bonfire, where you sit with the others roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and it’s a look that is so uncharacteristic on him. What’s even weirder is how friendly everyone greets him—as if they all know him—and you’re completely lost when they turn to you and ask if you’ve met Kunikuzushi.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a pleasant smile and extending your hand for a stiff handshake, which Venti snickers at. “No, I’ve never met him before.”
Apparently, he’s in one of Venti’s classes—it’s a course he’s taking solely because he needs the credits. Tighnari knows him because they usually work the same shifts at the campus café. Kazuha knows him from his linguistics and philosophy classes. Heizou’s ate with him in the dining hall plenty of times now and they’re also taking the same psychology class. It feels so genuine and yet so fake at the same time. Too perfectly manufactured to be a mere coincidence. But you do your best to push past these suspicions, and when he sits across from you, smiling at you and saying how nice it is to meet you, the warping flames paint his face in devilish shadows. That’s what you think he is when he acts like a completely different person from how he was when you dated: a devil who’s good at being kind and outgoing, noisy and abrupt, and always so foul-mouthed, but in a way that makes him charming. Your friends are so enthralled. They love him and his sense of humor. They love his quick wit. They love how fun he is. And suddenly weekends spent in the forest aren’t so enjoyable.
You do your best to overcome your doubts. For a few months you’re on edge. How he even found you is a mystery. Surely he wouldn’t stalk you and enroll in the same college just to get revenge or…whatever vengeance he wants from you. But when he treats you to coffee, when he brings you and the others pastries every other morning, when he invites the lot of you to study at the library, when he tells the funniest stories while crossed and everyone’s giggling like schoolgirls it really feels like he’s…healthier. Like he’s turned a fresh page in his life and is starting anew. Like he’s changed for the better.
Perhaps he just doesn’t remember you. You’ve changed your style over the years, so it’s possible he’s simply forgotten your image and can’t place memories to your name. Eventually, after soothing yourself with these theories, you begin to accept his presence in the group. He fits in so flawlessly, as if he’s a missing piece to the puzzle, and you can’t believe you’re admitting this, but you like this version of Kuni. He’s confident, not cocky. He’s kind, not rude. He gives everyone space. In fact, he rarely texts frequently in the group chat. And he’s funny! He’s so funny. You don’t think the Kuni from your past was ever as funny as the Kuni who regales everyone with lighthearted stories of how he once took in a stray cat that turned out to belong to his neighbor or how his old job had the strangest customers.
Maybe he truly did change. Maybe all of these coincidences really are coincidences. Maybe it’s for the best that you leave the past in the past.
Finals season looms, and the group hasn’t had time to meet up outside of class. Venti has tried to persuade everyone to come study at his apartment. His roommate won’t care (yes, he will. Xiao hates it when everyone gets blackout drunk and he has to wake everyone come morning), but if you’ve known Venti long enough you’ll know there is no studying that happens at these study sessions. This is probably the reason why he’s had to repeat a year.
With everyone’s schedules packed with academics, it’s difficult to find a time where everyone can get together to study. You think you might just be better off studying on your own, but Kuni’s message of you wanna pull an all-nighter for these lame af finals together?? accompanied with a photo of snacks and coffee, any thoughts of studying alone instantly vanish.
This is how you find yourself in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits on the floor, whacking your dangling feet when they get too close to him. His roommate Albedo is currently out tutoring a few students at the library and won’t be back until much later, so it’s just you, Kuni, and a pile of textbooks and notes. You’ve hung out with Kuni a few times and he was great company during each. You’ve also fallen asleep in his dorm before, when you’d come over to binge a show the both of you enjoy, and you’d lost track of time and had slipped into a dream halfway through the marathon. You’d woken the next morning with Kuni looming over you, grinning deviously and holding an uncapped marker. He’d leaned down and whispered, “You drool in your sleep,” and you’d swatted at him and groused about how you were sleeping so peacefully when he just had to ruin your sleep (and your face) with his antics. And then there was that time when you were so drunk at that one party and you could hardly stand, he’d been there to help. He even stayed with you for the rest of that night, offering his assistance when you became nauseous or needed water or a snack until you passed out.
Despite your initial apprehensions, you consider him a friend. He’s no one nearly as close as Rosalyne or your other friends. He’s just a mutual friend, someone you’ll spend time with when you feel like it, but you don’t truly need him in your life. That, and part of you still struggles to trust him after all of the stress and unhealthy obsession he subjected you to.
“Kuni,” you whine, lifting your head from the textbook. “Can you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”
“Do I look like your maid?” he snaps, immersed in organizing his notes. “Get it yourself.”
“I’m picturing it now and you’re in a frilly dress and—”
“Forget I asked.” Setting his notebook down with an exaggerated sigh, he crosses the distance to the mini fridge and withdraws a bottle of water.
Grinning, you slide off of his bed and reach for it with a grateful hum. He smirks and takes a step back, holding it away from you.
“Seriously…”
Rolling your eyes, you lunge for it and he side-steps you with the practiced grace of a cat. You brace yourself against the wall and swipe at him. Again, he dodges, unscrewing the cap and shaking the bottle teasingly.
“I think I’ll take a sip for myself. All of this studying has left me so parched.”
“No fair! That’s mine!”
“Is it?” He pulls it away from his lips to observe the bottle and feigns surprise. “That’s weird. I don’t see your name on it.”
“Look closer!” you exclaim, but just as he’s about to humor you you pounce, tackling him to the ground—there’s a beanbag cushion that breaks your fall—and the water spills all over the both of you in the midst of the tumble. A slew of colorful words stick in Kuni’s throat and your laughter rings out melodiously. You seize his wrist and hold it down while reaching for the bottle in his other hand, where there’s still some water left. He struggles halfheartedly, relinquishing the bottle with a disinterested scoff, and you pull away from him to down what’s left.
While crushing the plastic bottle into a ball, you notice something on your palm—the palm that had grabbed Kuni’s wrist—and it takes a minute before the skin tone-colored substance registers in your mind.
Concealer.
You peer at him and notice that he’s cradling his arm, and confusion sprouts.
“So funny,” he spits with a hollow laugh. “You owe me a new beanbag if this one’s ruined.”
“Hey, hold on. What’s with the—”
“Forget it. You got your water, so let’s get back to studying. Or do you no longer want to be a perfect student?”
Without thinking, you grab his arm as he’s standing and when you look at his forearm you can see where the water’s started to wash the concealer away. Curiously, you scrub at it while he tries to yank his arm away, but when you unearth a dozen scars littering his wrist and climbing the length of his arm that creeping cold from before returns.
And suddenly you’re brought back to those phone calls—the ones where he’d threaten suicide and murder—and you stumble back as if you’ve been burned, half-expecting to hear those threats once more. Kuni’s staring at his wrist, his features twisted in grim disapproval, and for a moment you think he looks…hurt. Or maybe that’s sadness you see. Whatever emotion it was, it doesn’t linger because a quiet chuckle slips past his lips, and the sound is so very frigid it has your blood crystallizing.
“It really hurt when you said you never wanted to see me again.” Kuni peers down at you, and his eyes that had once been so bright and filled with light are dull and dark. “But nothing hurts more than loving you.”
You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. You’re rooted to the ground, horror slinking through your body and rendering you immovable. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so loudly it’s practically a drum, and a cold sweat washes over you.
“Each time I found myself hating you, I thought it was odd because I love you so much. I can’t possibly hate the one I’ve loved all this time.” He scowls. “But loving you hurts. Loving you feels like chewing glass and drinking poison. Loving you isn’t fair because while you moved forward with your ‘friends,’ I was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces of what was left of you. So for every moment I couldn’t stand you, I tallied it on myself so that I’ll never forget the times I loved you so much I hated you.”
This can’t be happening, you’re thinking, curling your hands into trembling fists. He changed. He changed, right? This isn’t the same Kuni from before. This isn’t…
“And when I saw how well you seemed to be doing without me, I hated you even more.” Without warning, he’s grabbed your arm and hoisted you up. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes—not that anything could when he’s pulled a switchblade from his pocket and poised the pointed tip at your jugular. “You have poor taste in friends. Those guys suck.”
Tutting, he shakes his head at you like a parent might when scolding a child, and says, “Do you know how fucking tiring it was pretending? You think I care about pastries and stupid campfire stories? You really think I’d ever want to associate myself with that sorry lot?”
“K-Kuni, please let go of me. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry. So please just…”
“And then the first time you see me after all these years apart and you had the gall to lie to my face! ‘I’ve never met him before.’ Bullshit. You just didn’t want any of your loser friends to know our history, right? Because you’re ashamed to have known me, right?”
“That’s not it! I… I was just—I didn’t… I was… I just…”
“I… I… I…” he mocks, shoving you down onto the beanbag. It dips under the sudden weight, and you sink further into it when he points the blade at you. “Stop tripping over your tongue. I should be the one near tears! You cast me aside and then forgot all about me. You abandoned me when I needed you most.” His voice cracks at that last sentence, and your heart skips erratically.
“That’s not what happened! We needed space. I needed space. You were being too—” You stop yourself, unsure of how to phrase it. Too controlling? Too dangerous? Too scary?
“Lucky for you, I’m willing to overlook these past...slights.” The blade twirls effortlessly in his grasp, and you heave a relieved breath when he’s no longer pointing it in your direction. “Marry me and we’ll forget all about the past. We’ll start over.”
His demand almost stops your heart altogether. You stare up at him, mouth agape, and mumble a disbelieving, “What?”
“You heard me.” He seems to soften with his next words, and for a moment he looks and sounds like the Kuni who hangs out with you and your friends. The harmlessly fun Kuni who always takes such good care of you. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, so let’s get married.”
“K-Kuni, I can’t... I really can’t...”
Within seconds the blade has found itself on his wrist, pressing into delicate flesh. Not enough to cut, but if he applies more force you’ll definitely see blood. You choke on a horrified gasp.
“What was that?” He raises his brow at you, challenging you with a calm smile.
Your mind reels in an effort to conjure a plan. What can you even do? If you take the blade from him, will he turn his anger on you? Will you have to wrestle him into submission? And if you do manage to get out of his dorm, will anyone believe you? He’s painted himself in such a pleasant light. Your friends love and trust him! So what can you say? And if there isn’t any solid proof, no one will even entertain bringing the authorities into this mess.
“I’m waiting, (Name). Are you really going to make me add another tally? Do you really want me to hate you again? Oh, but maybe I should start marking you! We can add a slice for each time you failed to love me. That way we’ll both look like used cutting boards.”
You need help, you want to say, but the words escape you.
Instead, you nod hastily and say breathlessly, “Okay, yes! I’ll marry you!” Swallowing your horror, you glance at the blade as it’s lifted from his skin. Thankfully, there isn’t a cut. “I... I’ll marry you, Kuni. So... So please don’t hurt yourself. Please.”
It feels like you’ve been strangled for an eternity, so when he finally pockets the blade the air in your lungs returns and you collapse against the beanbag, chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths.
“Good.” He bends down to your height, grips your chin with cold fingers, and forces you to meet his adoring stare. “We’ll look at rings tomorrow. Or maybe you’d prefer bracelets instead? I can be flexible but only for you, so you’d better be grateful.”
You swallow rising bile and nod. “T-Thank you.” You’re not sure why you’re thanking him when he hardly deserves it, but it feels like the right thing to say to ease the tension.
Kuni’s eyes sparkle, no longer a void of endless darkness, and when he leans in to capture your lips in his your heart sinks. You really can’t run from your past, can you?
#genshin chit chat#yandere-romanticaa#yandere scaramouche#scara says he needs you but what he really needs is a therapist first and foremost#adding heizou into the mix!!! he probably takes notice of your change in behavior#and confronts you one on one to ask if everything's okay#and he looks so concerned and his voice is so soft and so you break and spill everything#and he nods while he takes in all of this information before offering to help#he knows the law (he's studying it after all!) so he can help you#but what heizou doesn't tell you is that the law might crush one evil person but it can easily protect other evils :)#especially him who is oh-so-honorable and sweet#you'd never know he wants to be more than just friends#and that he has a journal detailing your every move#but also i like the idea of heizou being a genuine friend and the two of you grow closer while trying to find ways to get scara caught#and taken away from you for good#but yan!heizou just hits so deliciously orz#also also!! adding in rosalyne~~ she went to the same uni as kuni (in snezhnaya)#but when he finally found out where you were he transferred#and rosa only realized they went to the same school when she found out from ajax (who also attends the same uni)#kuni probably worked part-time as a hospital receptionist before he transferred schools#and he's pretty sure the doctor there is a serial killer or he's just on the border of criminally insane (this is dottore after all)#(me looking at every way i can insert each harbinger into this au >:D)
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Hello 👋 can I get a little body switcheru with twist dorm liders and Yuu? Even better if we'd have F!Yuu in this one ❤️!
I don't think I'll be doing all the dorm leaders right now
but just a few
🖤🖤🖤
Body Switch | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
What a gift! To see precisely what your obsession sees, to touch with their perfect hand, to hear their lovely voice whenever they opened their mouth. Oh, the possibilities are endless! No matter the circumstance this is the stuff of dreams nightmares:
Vil Schoenheit
“OH SEVENS!”
Is at first horrified at the feeling of not being in his perfectly preened body
In his clean and not dingy home
But it diminishes when he realizes the one screaming in the dirty mirror is you
His precious love
“Ergh these black heads are insane. My potato has been neglecting their routine. That’ll be good to make a note of.”
He immediately gets to work
He has to make the next 24 hours in his dearest’s body count
and he’s got so much to do and such little time
Immediately he inspects your home and makes a note of everything that’s lacking in Ramshackle
Perfect ammunition for his proposal to move to Pomefiore
Next he reads your diary or journal if you have one
And he dives into your photos and makes a mental note to send more headshots to you
Next he goes to Rook
“We have less than 12 hours before I return, get your camera.”
Already planned and prepared the photos are perfection
Next he takes your measurements
Both for clothes and for ropes and fluffy cuffs
He debates deleting your friends from your contacts
But he’s not petty he is he’ll just send a text or two with passive aggressive undertones
And when he’s got close to an hour
He takes the time to…examine your every inch …careful to not leave a mess behind
“So…soft and round…they will look glorious in couture.”
Idia Shroud
“Eeek! It worked!”
Spends nearly an hour squealing and jumping around
But then he goes to the mirror and starts his fantasy
Using your lips to confess an undying love to Idia Shroud
He records it and everything
Next he goes to his room, already set up to allow a very specific code
He goes to his dorm
Everything is going perfectly to plan
Next he plans to dress you in the cosplay he already has your measurements for
“Yes! Now I just have to take this o-o-off! Ack! T-their s-skin! No! I can’t e-e-even if I’ve s-seen it through the camra it is so different!”
He genuinely can’t make it past your shirt
Too embarrassed and caught up in simply seeing all your skin
So instead he’ll move onto the next objective
Going to the pick up spot he’d already designated
Riding calmly as your taken to some unknown artificial island
“Hehehe well at least one objective was completed…let’s just say that other one isn’t one of my skill levels just yet. Hehehe I’ll have more than enough time to level up though!”
Malleus Draconia
Someone or you must have said that little expression
“Try walking in my shoes! Its really inconvenient when you scare everyone away from me!”
“In your shoes?”
So he tries it
Having your body become his own, allowing a day without his, in your words: overpowered bod
Oh is he warm
So warm he feels like your constantly hugging him
Its immaculate
Than he spends a good while just admiring you in the mirror
More than happy to study every pore of your skin in great detail
“Oh I did not realize their birth mark was this adorable.”
But he’ll soon find your legs ache so easily
Why can’t he stand straight for seven hours without your knees getting wobbly
Or how defenseless you are
With nothing but his tiny wisps if his own magic to sense
Its kind of horrifying
But as agreed he tries to go throughout the day as you
Enjoying the attention of all your friends
Granted they send weird looks when he says something odd
But you’ve already employed Grim as ‘his wingman’
Who frantically tries to get him through the day
He learns so much ‘by being in your shoes’
“I do not appreciate everyone having such careless interactions with you, especially when the amount of muscle let alone magic is…concerning.”
#yandere malleus draconia#yandere malleus x reader#yandere malleus twst#yandere malleus#yandere malleus draconia x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere twisted wonderland#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere twst#yandere idia shroud x reader#yandere idia shroud#yandere idia#yandere idia x reader#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere vil schoenheit x reader#yandere vil#yandere vil x reader
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You & Me| Spencer Reid
Request: I would love to have a fluffy smut about Spencer's and my first Anniversary together.
Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s first anniversary, and you spend the whole day celebrating.
Content: GN (not mentioned gender) but AFAB reader. Tooth rooting fluff. Smut. Oral (reader receiving). P in V. No contraception mentioned. 18+
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
The soft morning sunlight streamed through the curtains casting a warm glow over the room where you and Spencer lay entwined in each other’s arms. Spencer, like always, had found it difficult to fall and then stay asleep, but today it was for an entirely different reason than just his usual his insomnia. He was excited, he felt like a kid on Christmas eve.
As you started to wake up, you were greeted with the inviting aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you turned to find Spencer, dressed in his signature cardigan and a hint of a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Spencer greeted, his voice carrying a tender warmth.
You couldn’t help but smile in return, “Good morning, Spencer. What’s all of this.”
Spencer motioned toward the tray he had set up on the bedside table. “Happy anniversary,” he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.
“Spencer, you didn’t have to do all of this,” your heart swelling with love for this thoughtful gesture.
"But I wanted to," Spencer replied, his smile widening. "It's our special day, and I wanted to make it memorable."
You sat up in bed, the covers pooling around your waist, and admired the spread before you. The tray was adorned with an assortment of freshly baked pastries, a steaming pot of coffee, and a vase filled with your favourite flowers. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes about the love and care Spencer had for you.
"I can't believe it's been a year already," you murmured, feeling a rush of emotions welling up inside you. Memories of laughter, shared dreams, and countless stolen kisses flooded your mind. Time had flown by so quickly, yet every moment had been etched into your heart.
Spencer moved closer; his warm gaze fixed on you as he reached for your hand. "This year has been the best of my life," he confessed softly. "You've brought so much joy and light into my world, and I can't imagine my life without you."
Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you, filling you with a profound sense of warmth and contentment. You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the weight of your love for him in that simple gesture.
"And you've done the same for me," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "You've shown me what it means to be truly loved, and I am grateful every single day for you."
Spencer leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, sealing the silent promises that lingered between you both.
The kiss spoke volumes, conveying all the unspoken emotions and desires that had built up over the past year. It was a culmination of love, trust, and shared experiences. As the warm embrace deepened, you could feel your heart race, matching the rhythm of Spencer's breath against your lips.
“Spencer, I was going to wait till this evening to show my gift, but I can’t now.”
Spencer pulled away slightly, his eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it? I can't wait to see," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
With a mischievous grin, you reached under the bed and retrieved a small, wrapped box. Handing it to Spencer, you watched as he eagerly tore through the paper, uncovering a beautifully crafted leather-bound journal.
Spencer's eyes widened in surprise and awe as he ran his fingers over the intricate detailing on the cover. "Oh wow, it's stunning," he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "But why couldn't you wait?"
You chuckled softly, tracing circles on his arm with your fingertips. "Because, handsome, inside that journal are pages filled with all the words I could never say out loud. It's a collection of letters, thoughts, and memories that I've been writing to you throughout the year."
Spencer's eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. "You mean... you've been writing to me this whole time?"
You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yes, every time something significant happened, every time I wanted to express my love or share my thoughts with you, I wrote it down in that journal. It's a way for me to show you just how deeply I feel for you, even when I struggle to find the right words."
Spencer's gaze never left the journal, his fingers tracing the embossed designs on the cover. "I can't believe you've done this," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
You leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Spencer's cheek. "It's just a small token of my love for you," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. "I hope it brings you as much joy as you bring me every single day."
Spencer turned to you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you," he breathed, his voice catching with emotion. "This is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."
You smiled, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. Seeing Spencer's reaction filled your heart with a sense of fulfilment and reassurance. It was moments like these that reinforced the deep connection you shared, reminding you of the strength and beauty of your love.
*
The rest of day you spent cuddled up with Spencer, watching your favourite films, eating the rest of the food he had cooked, and just basking in the love you both had for each other. You couldn’t believe that you had been dating this man for a year, he was truly and utterly perfect in every way.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow through the curtains, you found yourself lost in thoughts of how fortunate you were to have Spencer by your side. The year had been filled with countless moments of joy, laughter, and growth, all woven together by the threads of your love.
You leaned into Spencer's side, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders as you both watched the colours dance across the sky. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, a testament to the deep connection you shared. Words seemed unnecessary in moments like these, where every touch and glance spoke volumes.
"I can't believe how lucky I am," Spencer murmured, breaking the silence. "To have found someone who understands me so completely."
He turned towards, his free arm lifting up your chin lightly as he looked into your eyes. His gaze held a mixture of adoration and vulnerability, baring his soul to you in that very moment. You felt your heart skip a beat as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek.
You didn’t have a chance to speak before Spencer’s lips met yours in a tender and passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. His lips moved against yours with a delicate fervour, conveying all the love and intensity that words could never capture.
You didn’t want this kiss to end, you wanted to savour every second, every touch, every taste. As the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively reached up to cradle Spencer's face, pulling him closer and losing yourself in the intoxicating passion that surged between you.
The room around you vanished, replaced by a realm where only the two of you existed. It was a world where time ceased to exist, and everything was distilled into this singular moment of pure connection and love. The outside world could wait – there was nothing more important than the embrace you shared.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Spencer's voice was barely a whisper against your lips, his words sending shivers down your spine. The intensity of his gaze made your heart flutter, as if you were the only person in the universe deserving of such adoration.
You smiled, feeling a surge of warmth and love wash over you. "And you, Spencer, are the most incredible person I've ever known," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. "You bring so much light into my life, and I am forever grateful for you."
Spencer's eyes shimmered with emotion as he held you closer, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "I will spend the rest of my life cherishing and loving you," he vowed softly, his words laced with determination.
His lips once again met yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. The taste of his love lingered on your lips, as if imprinting itself in your very soul.
Spencer’s hands started roaming your body, tracing the curves and lines that he knew so well. He felt the familiar warmth and comfort that came with being close to you, with knowing that you loved him just as deeply as he loved you.
You leaned back slightly, your eyes locking with his as he continued to explore your body with gentle touches.
As his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake, you let out a small gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair.
"Spencer," you breathed, the desire to return his affection growing stronger with every passing moment.
With a wicked grin, Spencer lowered his gaze to your lips once more. "Don't worry, Y/N. I've got all night," he promised, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
You returned his grin, your eyes locked with his as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the toned chest that you've grown to adore. Your fingers traced the lines of his abs, feeling the muscles flex under your touch.
He removed your shirt as well, revealing your own toned body to him. His eyes raked over your form, drinking in every detail, sending a jolt of desire coursing through you.
He lowered his head to your neck, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw, down to your collarbone. Your breath hitched as he continued his path, his lips moving to your chest.
You arched your back, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his exploration. He kissed below your breasts, his hand wandering down your stomach and pausing just above your waistband. You could feel his touch through the fabric, and your heart raced with anticipation.
His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin just below your waistband, causing a shiver to run down your spine. He hooked his fingers into your pants, slowly pulling them down your slender hips, revealing your skin to him.
His eyes widened, taking in your bare skin, the sight of your desire for him evident. Your breath hitched as he continued to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and awe. His lips met the bare skin of your stomach, a soft kiss leaving a trail of warmth on your skin.
You let out a soft sigh, your eyes never leaving his as he continued his journey down your body, his touch sending shivers of desire coursing through you. His slow, deliberate movements spoke volumes about the intimacy and care he had for you.
You could feel every part of your body coming alive, your skin tingling with anticipation as his lips trailed further down, his fingers leaving your waistband and exploring the sensitive skin just above your waistband.
Your breath hitched as he slowly pulled down your pants, revealing your most intimate parts to him. You felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, knowing that he would be discovering the most intimate part of you.
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and reverence. You could see the love and care he had for you reflected in his gaze, making your heart skip a beat.
"I can't believe how much I want you right now," you breathed, your eyes locked with his as he continued to explore your body with gentle touches.
His eyes met yours, filled with a hunger and desire that mirrored your own. "I am yours, and you are mine, Y/N. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you."
He lowered his lips to your stomach, his tongue tracing the line of your hip bone. You arched your back, your fingers threading through his hair as you let out a soft moan.
His lips continued down, kissing, and nibbling at your inner thighs, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation. Your heart raced with anticipation as his lips brushed against your inner thigh, his tongue tracing the soft skin there.
As his lips continued to move lower, your breath hitched, and your fingers tightening in his hair. His touch was gentle yet insistent, leaving no denial for the surging desire growing in you.
Your heart raced as his lips finally brushed against your clit, and you felt a rush of warmth between your legs. You cried out softly, your body arching into his embrace.
"Oh, Spencer," you gasped, your head falling back in pleasure as his tongue skilfully explored your most sensitive spots. His fingers moved in rhythm with his lips, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
You could feel your arousal building, your breath catching in your throat as the intensity of the sensations increased. Your fingers clenched in Spencer's hair, pulling him closer, urging him on, wanting him to continue.
Spencer's tongue danced across your clit, the intensity of his touch sending shivers up your spine. Your body trembled, your breathing shallow and ragged, as you felt yourself slowly sliding towards the edge.
You could feel the pleasure building within you, an electric current that started in your core and spread throughout your entire being. Your body shook, writhing beneath his touch, as the anticipation of your climax grew stronger with each passing second.
Spencer's fingers continued their rhythmic dance, his tongue working in harmony with his fingers, as if they were a perfectly synchronised duo crafted to bring you to the highest of heights. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, ringing out in the air like a song only the two of you could sing together.
He pulled away though, “I don’t think you know how badly I want to be inside you right now Y/N.” His voice was a low growl in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the desire pulsating through you, matching his every move. You whimpered softly, feeling your need for him grow stronger with every passing moment.
"I don't want you to wait any longer, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. You could feel your body pulsating with anticipation, aching to be filled by him.
His gaze locked with yours, his eyes filled with a burning desire that mirrored your own. "Then let me give you what you want, Y/N," he promised, his voice a low rumble that made your skin tingle.
He positioned himself over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he guided himself inside your body. Your breath hitched, feeling the pressure building up, the anticipation of the moment causing your heart to race. He entered you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he filled you completely. You gasped, your body trembling with pleasure, your heart pounding with excitement.
"Spencer," you whispered, your breath catching as he began to move inside you. His movements were slow and deliberate, his body pressing against yours, his hips moving in perfect rhythm. You could feel his desire for you in every thrust, every touch, every kiss.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours, his hands running over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your heart raced with passion, your body responding to his every touch, every movement.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes filled with a love and desire that couldn't be denied. You felt it too, the love you had for him, the need to be with him, the need to be one with him.
"I love you too, Spencer," you murmured, your voice catching in your throat as he began to move faster, his rhythm increasing, his body pressing against yours, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your breath hitched, your body arching into his, responding to his every touch, every movement, matching his every thrust, his every kiss. The pleasure built, the anticipation grew, the desire intensified, and you could feel yourself sliding towards a peak that would leave you breathless.
You felt as though you were flying, as if you were in another world completely. Every touch, every kiss, every movement felt like a new discovery, a new adventure. It was as if you were experiencing a new kind of love, a new kind of connection, that you'd never felt before.
As his thrusts grew more frenzied, so did your breaths, growing shallow and quick. You could feel the pleasure building within you, an electric current that started in your core and spread throughout your entire being. Your body shook, writhing beneath his touch, as the anticipation of your climax grew stronger with each passing second.
And then it hit you. It was like a tidal wave of pleasure, crashing over you like the ocean waves at the shore. Your body trembled, your breathing shallow and ragged, as you felt the pleasure building within you.
He increased his tempo, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, his lips never leaving yours. You felt as though you were floating, every touch, every movement, every kiss sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
And then you felt it. Your body shuddered, and your breath hitched, as you were swept up in an orgasm that seemed to go on forever. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, and you could feel your body spasming, shaking in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced.
Spencer's body trembled alongside yours, his eyes locked on yours, as he groaned out his own pleasure. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled away, collapsing onto your chest, his heart pounding in sync with yours.
You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, your bodies still shaking with the remnants of your orgasm. You could feel the love and care he had for you, reflected in his eyes and in the way he held you.
"I love you so much," you whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion.
"I love you more," he whispered back, his voice hoarse from the passion of the moment.
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keep you warm — l.dh
relationships are scary, and donghyuck ran away from yours. 18+ suggestive
you can’t get yourself to fall asleep. the time that’s passed since his body laid beside yours—stayed through the night—has been so long. it was becoming harder to hold onto the memory, and you couldn’t write it down again. journal page after journal page held every detail you remembered, turning them over again in your mind until you felt a familiar warmth in your heart again. you feel so cold without him. it’s been too long since you created the warmth on your own.
there was no hope to be found in you this week. the days blended together: waking up before your alarm, dragging yourself through the hours at work, and pushing yourself through evening runs in an attempt to sweat out the feelings. it worked for those 40 minutes spent in a pair of hokas before finding yourself on your balcony again, hair wet, a cool breeze brushing your skin like a promise to never let you down.
the glass of wine is filled a second time, and you watch the maroon liquid slosh around the glass as your head falls to the side. you haven’t drank since your brother’s wedding. years have passed since that night, so much has changed.
your knees knock together, feet resting on the coffee table, and you pinch the moon between your fingers. you imagine its dust on your skin, wondering how long the particles would linger before disappearing, washing away.
you hope he doesn’t completely disappear. the truth of those words has become harder to admit to yourself as feelings deepen. a heart truly grows fonder through distance, but the shadowed insanity has sharp claws. it draws blood, makes you sick and unable to eat.
you reach for the glass and head inside. the liquid disappears down the drain along with what remains in the bottle. you search for tea. something herbal. craving the warmth between your hands. craving the feeling of it traveling down your throat. needing something softer coating your mouth. something that won’t unravel the sweet dreams you anticipate.
the knock comes while you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, gaze set on the time ticking down—neon numbers on the microwave. you don’t have to move to know it’s him. you wonder how impulsive this decision was. how long he sat in his car debating coming up, using the key that lets him in your building. did he feel guilty pulling it out? did he think about the time that’s passed since he last felt its curved metal between his fingers?
you reach the door and the microwave begins to beep. the lock is turned, and you swallow hard.
he’s standing outside your door, and the brown of his eyes looks softer than before. he’s wearing glasses and a hoodie you know to be incredibly soft. his hair is long, nearly curtaining his eyes, definitely hiding his brows.
your cheek meets the door, wondering if he’ll speak before you step back and let him in. he has to say something. he has to know this isn’t ok. that it fucking hurts.
his tongue wets his lips and he takes you in. his eyes roam your face for so long. they run over your features repeatedly before staying on the eyes he sees in his own dreams.
“should i have called first?”
he looks uncertain. it’s a foreign face to see him wear. the twisting of his ring is subconscious while he waits. it would be so easy to break, to reach for him.
“it’s ok.” your smile is tight lipped, half hidden by the hinged metal.
“i’m sorry for disappearing.”
with that, you step back and let him inside.
he slips out of his shoes and you lock the door, heading for the kitchen to retrieve your tea and fill a glass of water for him. this scene has been lived a hundred times but never so quiet.
“why did you?” you ask holding out the glass. his fingertips brush yours. warm. the mug of tea is a sad attempt at recreating the feeling.
he follows you to the living room, settling into the couch because he knows you’ll take the large, green chair. he’s only found you there more times than he can count. it’s like your resting place, your recharge zone—a place of tried and true comfort. his comfort holds uncertainty.
“the honest answer is fear and …discomfort.”
“did i make you uncomfortable?” your eyebrows raise before taking the first sip and tucking your legs beneath you.
“no! no. that’s not it at all. i just- we became so close, and the feelings… the realest feelings. i doubted myself and filled in all the blank spaces.”
“blank spaces?” you ask when a silence fills the room.
“i imagined all your wants from me… for us. i decided i couldn’t give them to you even though i never asked what they are. i think- i know some are clear, but not all the details…” he looks afraid. he looks so small, smaller than you’ve ever seen him. it freaks you out. you want to comfort him. you want to make it all better, but you have to listen first. you have to gather the answers. otherwise it’s not fair.
“if you had asked, do you think my answers would’ve made you disappear too?”
“i can’t know that for sure, and i’m sorry if that hurts to hear because… fuck i don’t want to hurt you. i make all my decisions with you in mind. i’ve never done that before.”
“i know, it’s scary. it’s really scary to feel yourself starting to intertwine with someone, bend to them, have unwavering consideration appear and stay.”
he smiles then. “you’ve always been so much better than me with words.”
you shake your head, drinking more of the tea. “i overthink. i dissect.” i’m stained by words unsaid. i keep words that were never meant for me, and yet i crave them. i crave to offer you the right ones. i envision perfection. my perfection. for you.
“do you dissect this? me?”
“of course i do.” the honesty has always been too easy with him, and it’s here despite the distance, despite the rocky uneasiness you’re walking through—addressing head on.
“i’m sorry it happened this way. that i did what i did knowing your history. i don’t want to let you down—be like the last disappointment.” he tried so many times to call you. he sat in the parking garage and worried you’d see him as if seeing each other wasn’t the whole point.
you finish your tea, swallowing the warmth and barely feeling it past the back of your throat.
“i want to say you don’t have to apologize. in the same breath, thank you for doing it. i want you here. that’s impossible to deny, but it’s fucking scary, donghyuck. i’m so fucking terrified of wanting you— the fact that i do is having a hard time settling in. it’s not easy to accept.” because you know what it looks like. you know the carefree person you become within it, and you don’t want to lose her again.
he knows what you mean. you’ve laid together, half-dressed, and filled your dark room with honesty. he asked you questions you’ve never heard before, never meant for you. your answers were important, and everything you said has been remembered: the fear is impossible for him to forget.
“we’re both afraid.” his gaze holds so much love you feel yourself start to cry, and he’s leaning forward immediately, reaching for you. “baby, come here.”
a sob breaks free when your bodies meet. when the touch you’ve been craving is finally known again as you melt into him.
“i don’t want to be afraid to love you.”
he doesn’t tense at your words. if anything, he feels lighter. donghyuck knows to be your solid ground is all he wants.
“doing it together sounds like the right way to start, hmm?” his lips meet your forehead, and you nod against his chest.
“you can never do that again, though. you have to tell me, and i’ll tell you too because neither one of us deserve the guessing game. it’s sour and heavy and i can’t lose the sleep. not because of that. i won’t do it again.” the last thing your words are is harsh. they’re coated in yearning. they’re relieving to share, and he feels the care you have for him stick to his skin. it’s insane to think he let himself believe he wouldn’t be safe with you, but those middle-of-the-night thoughts are never on our side.
“i won’t. i’ll annoy you with all the communication.”
“please, it’s an aphrodisiac.”
he laughs then. finally. you’re set alight, feeling euphoric as his chest vibrates against your cheek. “i’m so in love with you.”
your lips part. “say it again.”
“sweetheart, i’m so in love with you.”
you pull away from him, dropping your hand to his cheek, fingertips meeting moles. searching his eyes until your vision blurs with tears, caught beneath his thumb. “i love you. i’ve loved you since the night in the corner store.”
“that long?” his voice is so emotional, breaking at the end, and you finally realize it: he doesn’t think he deserves this.
“that long. i knew. it was impossible to miss.”
“to miss?”
“donghyuck, you’re so easy to love. i feel so lucky to love you.”
an exhale sinks his shoulders. you kiss the apple of his cheek, feeling the first tear on your lips just before you pull away, so you kiss his eyelid next and then the other. whispering, “i can’t wait to love you loudly. i can’t wait to show you what you deserve.” and he guides your mouth to his.
your lips come together with the most emotional charge you’ve ever felt. it’s almost overwhelming, but you can’t imagine pulling away. you adjust, straddling his lap, feeling the certainty on his lips. the promise. the prayer.
it deepens as your hands sink into his hair, twirling his brown locks around your fingers. he licks into your mouth, meeting your tongue in a romantic dance. there’s no fight for dominance. there’s no urgency. it’s patient. it’s your entire bodies connecting, chests meeting. it’s all these emotions, all this relief collecting in the space where your lips touch. it’s the understanding that you have so much time, and it’s so warm.
#haechan fic#haechan oneshot#haechan scenarios#haechan suggestive#haechan fluff#haechan angst#haechan imagines#haechan blurbs#haechan drabbles#haechan fanfic#nct imagines#nct fic#nct blurbs#nct scenarios#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck imagines#donghyuck blurbs#donghyuck fic
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Was it all a dream?
Chapter One: Eyes without a face
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Series Masterlist | Series Playlist
Series summary: You’ve always had vivid dreams, an escape from your monotonous life. But one night, something appears in your dreams that keeps reoccurring; a pair of brown eyes.
-Or-
Two people, in completely different parts of the galaxy, find each other in their dreams and try to make sense of the strange connection they share.
Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), switches between Reader and Din’s POV, story takes place in the dream realm and the real world, takes place somewhere between the end of season two/Book of Boba Fett/beginning + middle of season three, eventual smut (starts at chapter 4!), line between reality and dreams gets blurred, use of Mando’a words and phrases, no use of y/n
Chapter summary: Where the strange dreams begin.
Word count: 3k
Chapter warnings: ominous dream shit and a creepy coworker
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
You
Neon lights. Tall, looming buildings. Hoards of people whose faces you can’t make out. You can hear them talking all around you, but the words are jumbled into white noise.
In the distance, you spot a sign, brightly lit in Aurebesh. It’s a cantina. It’s somewhere that’s a refuge from the sea of faceless people you're trapped in. It takes all your might to push through the crowd, yet you don't feel the sensation of people colliding with you. The people don’t react to you knocking them out of the way. They’re mindless, limp bodies without a soul behind those eyes, those eyes you can’t see.
Your feet are heavy and every step you take requires all of your concentration, all of your power to keep you going. It feels like a triumph when you reach the front of the cantina. You turn back to where you came from, looking at the mess that should be there. But it’s as if nothing happened, the sea of people is moving as one, like the surface of water when it’s left undisturbed.
The door to the cantina opens and you go inside. Heads turn toward your direction as you make your way through the room. None of the faces are legible, just a soulless, blank expression. Your mind wants to search for something familiar in the distorted faces, a sign you’re interacting with real humans, real living things. But to no avail.
You sit down at the bar in the middle of the room. Everyone’s heads are turned towards you, watching as you order a drink from the bartender. His head tilts to the side, as if he can’t understand what you’re saying. Your order is coming out clear as day as far as you can tell. The bartender shakes his head and walks away, leaving you dumbfounded and irritated. You need this. You need a drink to take the edge off whatever’s happening right now. It feels like you’re alone and you’re left with this existential dread that has you questioning everything around you.
You look over to your right and a man is sitting across the bar. He sets his drink down on the counter, looking at you with warm, brown, intriguing eyes. The first set of eyes you’ve seen so far here.
You open your mouth to say something, anything. But before you can…
You wake up. The same dull gray ceiling is the first thing you see when you open your eyes.
It was all a dream.
You roll over to your nightstand and grab your journal and a pen, trying to remember the details of the strange dream you had before you start forgetting entirely. Jotting down bits and pieces of what happened, you try to make sense of what you saw; bright lights, cryptic-looking silent people, ominous buildings, and also… a man; the only person in your dream who had an actual face.
Who was he? And will you see him again?
No time to dwell on it now. Work is beginning soon and you’re already running late.
Getting ready for work, you’re still half asleep. Head in the clouds as you pull on your work uniform; gray slacks, a work jacket, black boots, and your badge. But once you’re ready for your shift and glance at the clock again, you realize you should’ve left a long time ago. You dash through the door and anxiously navigate the maze of tunnels, heading towards the shuttle to the surface. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the last one for the day shift employees.
For anyone who’s not from Sullust, this maze would be impossible. Everywhere you turn looks exactly the same as where you just came from. But you’ve lived here your whole life, all you know are the tunnels, the common area, and the factory. For many cycles you’ve longed to breathe fresh air, feel the sun on your skin, the wind in your hair; the elements. You’re teased with them every day, watching from the securely enclosed factory. It looks beautiful on the surface with the sun shining innocently.
But the atmosphere on Sullust is toxic, its appearance deceiving. So, the native species, the Sullustans, were forced to go underground, building an interconnected web of tunnels sealed off from the surface. For being forced to live underground, the Sullustans did a good job making habitable places for the population, connecting lichen gardens to pools of potable water; a complex, underground labyrinth. It’s not a bad place to live by any means if you’re one of the wealthy Sullustans. You’re one of the only humans here and for as long as you can remember, you’ve been doomed to the caves. It makes you question how you got here in the first place. You have a theory you were sold to the SoroSuub Corporation as a child, raised to be a worker, another cog in the machine. But at night is when you’re free, letting your mind wander and aching for places you’ll never go to. Or ones that don’t exist at all.
You sprint towards the shuttle station, a dull, gray lift that takes you to the surface. It’s crowded, presumably all the people who overslept just like you did. But you can’t miss this. There’s not another shuttle after this and you don’t need to be reprimanded again at work. You push your way to the first car, but unlike the people in your dream, these people fight back, angrily shoving you with their elbows. You persist, fighting even harder towards the shuttle door.
Except now you’ve messed with the wrong person, elbowing a strong, burly man in the back. He turns towards you, towering over you and his brow furrowing in anger. You can’t even place who he is. He must work on a different floor than you do.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” he shouts as if your elbow even hurt him at all.
“Catching the shuttle,” you say smugly.
You’re getting pushed into him by the crowd as it moves forward, head colliding with his chest. But before he can grab you or hit you, you feel a hand on the collar of your shirt pulling you down to another shuttle car and shoving you inside. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath, searching for whoever grabbed you. And when you see who it is your stomach sinks a little.
“You’re welcome,” your coworker, Shoan, says.
He’s a guy who works on your floor and in your department. You both make droid parts (specifically parts for GU-series Guardian Police Droids). He always finds ways to get closer and closer to your station. It’s gone past some cute little work crush and transformed into a full-blown obsession. And it doesn’t matter how much you complain to your boss, because SoroSuub cares about performance and Shoan has one of the best performance rates in the whole company. He’s not going anywhere, and they don’t care about your feelings.
“Thanks, I guess?”
“What do you mean? That guy was about to pummel you!”
“It’s a better alternative than being here with you.”
“Is that any way to treat someone who saved you?”
You roll your eyes and glance at the door that’s still open. You could leave and go home, returning to your favorite thing in the world; sleeping, dreaming. Can you afford one more write-up on your record?
Shoan stands beside you, talking your ear off about Maker knows what. You’re doing your best to drown him out, the sound of his voice shifting into white noise. Zoning out, staring at the open door, you contemplate each option. As you’re staring out into space something derails your thoughts entirely.
Those eyes, those brown eyes, are all you can think, all you can see. Who was that? And why are his eyes following you from your dreams? What was he trying to say? Was he trying to say anything at all? You could go back home and to bed in the hopes of seeing him again.
You waited too long. The door is closed and the shuttle is moving towards the surface. Those eyes distracted you, made you lose your grip on reality for a moment. Whatever, it’s something to make the day more interesting you suppose.
“Are you even listening to me?” Shoan asks, tapping you on the shoulder.
“No,” you roll your eyes, “And get your hands off me.”
As soon as the shuttle door opens you power walk into the factory, looking at the fleeting moment of sunshine until you’re enclosed in a metal box again. The atmosphere on Sullust is toxic due to the volcanoes littering the surface. The gasses released during eruptions made living on the surface not viable and short exposure to it extremely uncomfortable. The small amount of sunshine you do see is deceiving. For one, it means the volcanoes aren’t acting up for once. And two, the sunshine makes it look like the surface is normal and not so far out of reach.
You scan in with your badge and head to your post, not looking forward to the next eight hours of the most boring process in the world. Just as you’re about to assemble some central processors, your supervisor, Orran, stops you.
“Employee 5526, you’re being transferred to a different department.”
Kriff yes.
“To where?”
“Weapons unit. Report to floor five. You’ll receive further instructions there.”
You can’t get out of there fast enough. Finally, what you’ve been hoping and longing for has happened. You walk past Shoan’s station, taking note of the dumbfounded expression on his face. You’re excited for the new endeavor and to get away from Shoan, but you don’t know the first thing about assembling weapons.
You make your way to the fifth floor, staring up at the fluorescent light in the elevator. It’s just a short ride and you’re already zoning out. Head in the clouds whenever your attention is not occupied by something else.
There they are again. Those eyes, this time not in your head but in front of you, staring back down at you from the light above. Who do they belong to? And what are they trying to tell you?
The door opens and they’re gone. It’s going to be hard to focus today.
The rest of your shift is relatively boring. You’ve been assigned to assemble JSP-14 Pistols and Mk IX Bayonets. There’s sort of a learning curve that comes with constructing them. But your new supervisor informed you that you have a week to get the hang of it.
You’re on your way home now, leaning against the wall of the shuttle and anxiously awaiting to be home already. There’s so much you have to do between making dinner, doing your laundry, and taking a shower in the refresher.
But all you want to do is sleep. Not even from being tired, but from wanting to explore more of your dreams, wanting to find those eyes.
That’s exactly what you do, collapsing onto your bed and letting sleep overtake you. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll meet those brown eyes again.
Din
The first thing Din sees when he opens his eyes is the top of his bunk– another morning waking up alone. Another morning without Grogu’s soft babbling coming from the hammock above.
Din doesn’t normally remember his dreams. For him, it’s just inky blackness from the moment his head hits the pillow until the moment he wakes up. Lately, he’s been remembering more and more minor details like a color, a smell, or a feeling. Nothing concrete. It’s all very abstract, things deep in his subconscious that for some reason are forcing themselves up to the surface.
This time, he recalls a color, one so bright it hurt his eyes a little bit. It was neon pink, not too different from the colors he’d seen lighting up signs on the streets of Coruscant. But that’s all he can remember, a color and nothing more.
He rolls out of the bunk, standing and stretching as much as he can in the cramped space. His time here has been quieter, lonelier ever since Grogu went to train with the Jedi. He’s spent most of his life alone, but the addition of Grogu filled a void he didn’t know he had. And now that he’s gone, the void is bigger, louder, and making sure its presence is known.
He pulls on his helmet and drags his feet to the ladder in the Crest, hoping that he’s somewhat close to Nevarro. He’s been collecting bounties here and there, doing his best to keep busy while also gathering tips on where the new Mandalorian covert is. He’ll settle into his normal routine once he lands; drop the bounty off, collect his credits, check the Razor Crest, and try to not stare at the inside of the metal box too long, not long enough where he wants to bash his head in.
It goes exactly like he expected. Karga’s men remove the bounty while Din suffers through Karga’s pleasantries. Din never particularly cares for small talk, but lately, he can’t stand it. His patience has slimmed; all he wants is to drop the bounty, collect the credits, take a new job, and move on.
But today, Karga says something out of the ordinary.
“Where’s your little green friend?”
Din’s eye twitches underneath his helmet. He’s not in the mood to talk about Grogu, especially not here, not now.
“With his own kind,” Din says stiffly, not wanting to delve into the topic much further than that.
“Well here’s your pay,” Karga says, sliding a bag of credits across the table towards Din.
“Got another one?” Din asks.
“So eager. You don’t want a break?”
“...No,” Din says, wanting this interaction to end already.
“I have a special job anyway. Here,” he says, sliding the tracking fob to Din, “Kaba Baiz, runs a meatpacking plant on Glavis Ringworld. You’ll bring him to the guild master there, an Ishi Tib, instead of bringing him to Nevarro. Dead or alive.”
Interesting. Karga’s guild doesn’t normally deal with other guilds in the galaxy, helping them coordinate jobs like this.
“Why can’t they just get someone from their guild to do it?”
“They asked for you specifically. They also have some information you might find valuable. But only after you secure the bounty.”
Din sighs. It’s an annoyed sigh and Karga picks up on that.
“They have information that might lead you to the Mandalorian covert.”
That certainly grabbed his attention.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Din says, taking the fob and sliding out from the booth.
“Good luck,” Karga nods.
Din responds with a silent tip of his helmet before leaving, anxious to get a move on. He’s never been to Glavis Ringworld before. He’s never dealt with another guild before. It’s all new territory for him, but he can’t complain. This is what he wanted after all.
He does his usual routine check-up on the Crest before searching for the Glavis Ringworld coordinates. He takes off and the routine is so ingrained in his mind, in his memory, that it doesn’t require much thought or care at all. To put it simply, he’s so kriffing bored all the time.
Once he’s in hyperspace, he realizes… he’s tired again. But how is that possible? He just woke up not that long ago…
But that slumber wasn’t normal. If anything, he woke up even more tired, as if he’d lived a thousand lives in the few hours he was asleep. He doesn’t think too much of it now, attributing it to stress or some unresolved feelings he’s not ready to address.
Giving in to his wants, he slumps down the ladder and into his bunk, only taking off his helmet and his jetpack before flopping down onto the small cot.
As he sleeps, he’s aware he’s dreaming this time, something that’s not normal for him. He recognizes where he is, too. He’s on Nevarro, wandering around the marketplace. He looks down and his pouch is absent from his dream– no Grogu.
Typical, he thinks to himself.
The wind blows through his hair.
The wind blows through his hair.
He’s not wearing his armor, not even his flight suit. In fact, none of his clothes seem normal. He’s wearing all black, everything from his shirt to his pants to his boots. For some reason, he still has his blaster attached to his belt but notably absent is the Darksaber.
It doesn’t matter. This is just a dream, he tells himself.
That still doesn’t quell the voice in the back of his head telling him how wrong this is. But he has to remind himself that the outfit sans helmet was not his idea. At least not consciously, that is.
He looks around and everything seems just how it always is. The sun is shining. The buildings look the same. The stands are stocked with various goods. Looks like a typical day in the marketplace. Except for one thing.
There are no people around.
He walks slowly, on guard and waiting for something to happen, keeping his hand on the handle of his blaster. It’s ominous being here alone. It gives him an uneasy feeling that something is coming, something is out to get him. But he couldn’t be more wrong.
As he turns a corner, he runs right into something– someone. Standing before him is a woman. She’s beautiful, the sun beaming down and hitting the high points of her face. Her lips are shiny and her eyes are kind and inviting. What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t typically notice small details about women in real life. What is it about the dream realm and you that makes him so observant, so keen on details?
He opens his mouth to ask who you are.
And then he wakes up, staring at the metal ceiling yet again.
Banners + dividers by @saradika-graphics
WIAD Tag list: @wannab-urs @hyzer34 @lupietra @milly-louise @hellfire-state-of-mind @dugiioh @handspunyarns @thatcultbabe-99 @leithatnight @corazondebeskar @burntheedges @imherefordeanandbones @pamasaur @dameron-grant-spector @competitivedust @survivingandenduring @the-color-is-black @perennialdoll247 @littlegrungegirlaf @bluebeary-jay @angstyvirgin001 @missladym1981 @alltheotps @lahooozaherr @that1nerd-20 @pedrostories @dins-riduur-anthe
#wiad#din djarin x reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#star wars fanfiction#pedrostories#din djarin series#ppcu fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Doppelgangers mimic, it's in their blood, their instincts. They observe and copy, they peak into the lives of the unsuspecting and devour what they can, in every sense of the word.
It's necessary for their survival, to learn every detail of ones features. The better evolved members of their kind learn to perfectly imitate speech patterns and body language as well, leaving nothing out. Perfection is key, and a deep intricate understanding of their prey is what they strive for.
They pride themselves on their ability to reflect humanities ego back at them.
Some understand too well, and look deeper than what's necessary. Their human-counterparts oft hold secrets buried within, secrets they show no one, and yet the doppelgangers that select them seem to enjoy shouting such things out into the world for all to see.
Showing off what they've found, what was previously being hidden away from public eye.
A pilot who's mind races with endless possibilities and visions of death, who's witnessed carnage both of reality and illusion. Behind a stone faced facade and obscuring shades, paranoia clutches the mind and eyes dart nervously towards every shadow. The constant nagging of adrenaline and panic being held trapped behind an un-moving mask. An all consuming mind, seeing danger at every corner, only ever knowing peace while in the emptiness of the skies.
A woman who wills herself to be blind to her harsh reality. Portraying herself with an energetic and bubbly attitude, while miserable inside, refusing to speak of her past. Silencing herself for the sake of her and her daughter. Pretending she doesn't see that her daughter looks nothing like her ex husband, pretending she doesn't see the resemblance to her neighborhood milkman. Staying quiet, eyes and lips sealed shut. Keeping her secret away from even herself.
An uncaring, boring man to the public eye, who secretly relishes in the silent chaos he's caused for numerous marriages. Going about his day, hiding his sadistic smile behind a mundane lifestyle and tired eyes. Knowing the effect he has on unsuspecting and lonely housewives, it does wonders for his ego. He keeps it inside, not showing his twisted delight for home-wrecking.
It goes on, many doppelgangers seeing people's true colors and proudly putting them on display.
A miserable seamstress, a model with an fake smile and endless hunger for fame, a reporter melting under the pressure of his journalism- having to do stories on these monsters day in and day out, exposed to endless horrors.
Many may look at these mimics, call them lazy, say they don't understand what a real human looks like. But they know better than anyone what's in your heart, their depiction more accurate than those only portraying what's on the surface level.
A button is pressed, the curtains fall, and their performance is done as a siren mocks the sound of applause.
#Tnmn#thats not my neighbor#Francis mosses#nacha mikaelys#that's not my neighbor#steven rudboys#Ficlet#Tnmn fanfic#Headcanons#Nacha is divorced but not to francis- he's just a homewrecker#Also Steven has undiagnosed schizophrenia that he can't tell anyone about because he'll be discharged from the military#This started as a shit post and was going to end with peaches guy but I ended up liking it too much
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — PORT MAFIA! DAZAI X FEM READER X PORT MAFIA! CHUUYA
You’ve been a fangirl of Double Black for years, successfully hiding your hobby right underneath your employers’ noses. When you’re finally ready to give up your immature infatuation after years of pining, Dazai finds out - and he’s ready to have a little fun.
wc — 3.1k
tags — mdni, mild degradation, praise, delayed orgasms, dacryphilia, Chuuya doesn’t show up until the very end but he has imagined scenes
You’ve always held an attraction to the darker sides of life. How else do you end up working for the mafia if you don’t? It’s something your boss, Dazai, always said - you have to be crazy to be here.
And you must be crazy, because Double Black, your direct superiors, are two even crazier bastards, and you’ve been getting yourself off to them every night, imagining it’s Dazai’s fingers in your dripping cunt, Chuuya’s chest pressed against your back. You want them so bad it’s made you sloppy and desperate, years of suppressed feelings bubbling to the surface whenever you catch sight of them.
It doesn’t help that they are the way they are. Dazai is a flirt in all the worst ways, asking if you’d spread your legs for him on his desk when you return a report. You had squeaked and backed up into Chuuya, who had told him to fuck off and guided you to the door. His hands are surprisingly soft, not like that of a mafia grunt.
That night, you had come three times with Dazai’s name on your lips and two more with Chuuya’s.
It’s not like you see them often, being the assistant of an assistant of an assistant and so on, far, far down the line. You’re grateful for that, because you’re sure it’s it’s the only thing that kept you from making the dumb mistake you just made before now.
Dazai plucks the journal from your hand, eyes narrowing. Venom drips from his voice as he snarls, “Is this mafia work? How many times do we have to remind everyone that we don’t leave a paper trail? Do I just have idiots working under me?”
“Sir,” you stammer. “I-um.” Without thinking, you’ve already started reaching for the journal, your body on autopilot. You need it back.
It’s not mafia work. It’s even worse. It’s your journal of Double Black’s endeavors, filled with your thoughts detailed in glitter pen next to cut outs of newspapers and pictures of them. Humiliating, the work of the much younger girl you’d been when you made it. You had found it under your bed, a relic from when you had first joined the mafia, and just your luck - Dazai had found it as you were about to throw it out.
Fury is written all over his features as he sneers, “Did you just try to take this from me?”
He flips it open. You’ve never seen Dazai surprised. Even then, his control over himself is immaculate. His eyes widen only a fraction, his breath hitches once. Then, he grins. That look can’t mean anything good for you.
“Oh,” Dazai says. “How cute - you’re a fan.”
You try to protest, but Dazai’s already made up his mind, and you’re caught up in his schemes. That’s how it always is - what Dazai wants, Dazai gets, and right now, he wants to play with you.
“Do you like me?” Your mouth falls open and you shake your head, stammering, but your cheeks feel hot. Even if every action you made wasn’t a dead giveaway, this is Dazai. He would be able to tell even if you were the most accomplished liar in the world.
“Oh, you cute little thing,” he purrs, watching you panic. “You do.”
He stalks closer until your only options are moving forward into his chest or back into the wall. “Do you fuck yourself at night, thinking of me? What was it like? I can imagine you grinding down on one of your toys, frustrated because it’s not my cock in you. Aw, maybe you couldn’t come without imagining me.”
Your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Sir! That’s not appropriate!”
He taps your chest lightly with the journal, chuckling. You can tell what he thinks of you - some obsessed little girl who was new to the mafia, in over her head. “I think we’ve crossed that line a long time ago,” he says. “There’s a more important question to answer. Do you want it?”
You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking, and his gaze snags on that enticing gloss over your lips. He’s watching you the way a lion watches prey, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs.
He could be teasing. This could lead to way worse things. But you’ve been wanting this ever since you joined the Port Mafia, years of yearning. You can’t afford to give up this chance.
“Yes,” you whimper underneath his searing gaze. “I want you.”
It’s embarrassing for him to be in your bedroom, seeing the true depth of your obsession with Double Black, but he had refused to take you to his. He outright laughs when he catches sight of a wanted poster you had stolen from a notice board and pinned up across from your bed.
He doesn’t wait for you to give him directions, sitting down on your bed immediately. “Come here,” he says, patting his lap impatiently.
Slowly, you make your way to him, thighs spread, one on either side of his legs, hovering over him. He flips your skirt up and coos at your pretty panties. One slender finger runs itself up that damp spot that’s already appeared on your the white fabric, and you shudder over him, gripping onto his shoulder for support.
His other hand skims your leg, runs up your side, and tugs lightly at your shirt before he pulls it straight off of you, revealing your matching bra. He’s a tease, as you’d known he would be.
He snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, murmuring, “Did you plan this? Coordinated just for me? Oh,” he grins like the thought just occurred to him. “Did you mean for me to see that journal and come back here to fuck you until you cried?”
“No,” you cry out, rocking on his fingers, desperate for the little amount of friction he’s giving you right now as he toys with your clit over the fabric. “Didn’t- mmh!” You curl over him, trying to get him to touch you more.
He smirks. “Already? So easy for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying on your bed, back pressed against the silk sheets. The Port Mafia, at least, paid well. That’s why you can forgive him as he grabs a fistful of your underwear and rips it right off of you. It stings, but somehow, it feels nice at the same time. He smoothes a hand over your stomach, then dips his head.
“I’ll buy you another set,” he promises, sucking fresh bruises into your thighs. Marking you up. You squeak as he bites down, then laves his tongue over it in apology. “I’ll buy you as many as you want if you’re a good girl for me.”
You whimper, too strung out to think of a verbal response besides please, and I want you, Dazai, and, make me cum.
You’re pliant as he nudges his way between your legs, but try to squirm away when he whistles at the mess he finds between your thighs. It’s humiliating, the way you’re spread for him, completely naked, and he’s still clothed.
He slides two fingers through your folds, not entering you yet, but already his fingers are wet enough to shine in the dim light of your room. With his thumb, he circles your clit. It makes you jolt like you’ve hit a live wire. He does it again, and presses down harder. You don’t miss the way his eyes flash as he watches you thrash, the way his dress pants are straining against a bulge.
He kisses you for the first time since he found you in the hallway with Double Black paraphernalia in your hand, hot tongue sliding against yours in a way that would make your knees weak if you weren’t already on your back for him. He kisses like you think he would fuck - with a raw intensity that leaves you dazed and wanting more. Not that you would ever stop wanting whatever he could give you.
Idly, he rubs your clit while sucking a hickey onto your neck, distracting you as two fingers enter you at once, a burn that has you crying out into his mouth.
“Sh,” he says against your lips. “I know, I know. I’ll make you feel good in a minute, I promise.”
He’s sweet as he preps you, fingers moving at an agonizing pace to avoid hurting you, but not giving you what you want, either. The pleasure of his thumb playing with your clit dulls the pain, but you’re left wondering - if this is just his fingers, what would his dick feel like?
He noses against your cheek. “Hey. What are you thinking about, baby? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet and you’re already out of it?”
You like it when he calls you baby. He doesn’t seem like the type to dole out pet names, but he can’t help it when you clench around him like that every time he uses it.
The noises of his fingers slipping in out of you, made louder by the sheer amount of slick dripping out of you, is embarrassing in a room quiet of anything but Dazai’s candy coated words and your panting. You fling an arm over your face, but just as fast, he pushes it back down over your head. He leaves his hand splayed over your wrist for just a minute, a silent warning not to move.
You know he likes watching you squirm though, likes the way you fall apart beneath him and can’t control your own body. It’s okay. He’ll do it for you.
“I want to see your face,” he says. “Don’t hide from me.”
He rips a sob out of you as he settles into a steady pace. His hands are so pretty you think you could get yourself off just looking at them, elegant, pale, long fingers. He catches you watching them slip in and out of your cunt, transfixed by the sight of your own slick on him, a fantasy come to life.
You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and trying to grind down against him, bucking your hips for more, more, more. Not even five minutes ago you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the stretch, but now you’re begging him to fuck you harder and deeper.
He coos faux-sympathetically. “Aw, I know, baby. You want Chuuya here too, don’t you? Greedy little thing. My fingers just aren’t enough, huh?”
He laughs when you whine and shake your head beneath him, tears sliding off your cheeks. With a glint in his eyes, he leans down to kiss one right off your nose. He’s always wondered how they would taste.
You can’t hold yourself still beneath him, eyes rolling back in your head as you simultaneously try to grind yourself down against his fingers and back away. He makes the decision for you, spreading your already open legs wider so he can grind his palm against your clit. Your legs quiver as your mouth opens in a silent moan, every nerve on fire. You’re too blissed out to speak. He relishes in knowing how to play your body already.
“Ah - ah,” he frowns condescendingly. “You’re such a squirmer. Is it because you want Chuuya to come hold you down while I fuck you?”
You almost cum right then and there from the picture he paints in your mind. Chuuya’s pale hands pinning your wrists down so you can’t thrash away from Dazai and ruin your own orgasm, as you have been doing accidentally without the boys to take care of you. To control you the way you want to be controlled.
Chuuya, his chest against your back as he spreads you wider for Dazai to take whatever he wants. Chuuya’s voice in your ear, calling you baby and sweetheart and his pretty little slut as Dazai makes you cum until you’re crying for them, makes you beg for it. Chuuya, rubbing your clit as Dazai sinks into your pretty cunt, making you cum before he’s even fully inside of you. Chuuya, transfixed by the way your pussy flutters around Dazai’s cock.
“Please,” you beg, though it’s indistinguishable from the other noises you’re making.
Dazai croons he pats your cheek. “Poor little thing, too stuffed full to talk? It’s okay, I already know what you need.”
“Dazai,” you half moan. “Want you. And Chuuya.”
“I wonder if you can come with just words,” he pants, pulling his belt off. “That’d be so hot. I think you can, baby, don’t you? You like my voice so much you’re creaming all over me and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”
There must be something wrong with you, because otherwise why would that mocking tone of his send you over the edge?
You agree mindlessly, as you have been to whatever’s he’s been saying for the past few minutes. Dazai must like his own voice as much as you do because he keeps up a stream of praise and light degradation and filthy words that make you clench as he finally pushes into you.
He groans, throwing his head back so you can see his Adam’s apple bob. You’re entranced by it, the rough way he swallows. He feels your eyes on him and brings his gaze back to you. Sweaty and half clothed, somehow he manages to look like a conquering king rather than a debauched sinner. Such is Dazai’s nature. He makes even immorality look good.
The prodigy Dazai never has to work hard for anything - less than half a minute and he has you seeing stars, slurring his name like a prayer to a god who’s answered in all the wrong ways.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s right, take it all. Oh, you liked that. Don’t deny it,” he grins wickedly as you shake your head no, feeling embarrassment creep into you even though what more is there to be embarrassed of, when he’s already seen everything? “I felt you get wetter. I won’t be so nice when Chuuya’s here, but you’ll like it, I promise.”
He fucks into you at a steady pace that has you clawing at the sheets, whining and digging your heels into his back. You want him as close as possible. You want him to fuck you right back into that mind blowing pleasure you had felt earlier, when your thoughts had gone blessedly silent in bliss, nothing but pleasure dancing on your fried nerves.
You can feel it coming, even better than before, thighs trembling in anticipation. And then he rips it all away from you, the dull tingle of your high receding back into your veins. You’re whining about how much you want to cum before you can stop yourself, too far gone to care about things like embarrassment. It’s a look Dazai loves on you.
“Dazai,” you whimper, less a complaint than a plea because he’s in charge and you’ve known it from the beginning.
“Mm.” He smiles down at you, a wicked sort of slant of teeth that has you in the palm of his hand. “Call me Osamu and I might give you what you want.”
“Osamu?” You try, hopeful.
“Nah.” He flips you over so you’re straddling his hips, him still buried inside of you. “Earn it.”
Slowly, you rise up until just the tip of his cock remains inside of you, and sink back down until you find your rhythm. He cups your ass, helping you along until you can feel it again, that tension in the pit of your stomach.
A noise cuts through the sound of flesh on flesh. Dazai’s phone rings as you bounce on his cock, and he picks up. You freeze and stare at him incredulously. He makes an annoyed face at you and gestures for you to keep going, and impossibly, you do.
You’ll listen to any command he gives you, on the battlefield and in the bedroom.
But you don’t have to take this lying down. You grind against him in a way that has your breath stuttering, but you underestimated him. Dazai has no shame - he moans as loudly and freely as he wants, then continues his conversation, only hanging up when he’s finished.
He grins up at you, his hands settling on your hips again, directing your movement. “I had your room moved next to mine. Oh, Chuuya’s there too, I guess.”
At the sound of Chuuya’s name, your hips stutter, and Dazai takes the chance to regain control. He forces your body to open for him, and oh, he’s never looked so good as he does when he’s serious, thrusting against you with a litany of throaty moans. Every roll of his hips as you seeing stars as he brings you back to that place that makes you hot and cold all over.
He’s doing it again. “No, Dazai!” You keen, pressing your heels against his back like you can keep him in, but he’s so much stronger than you. He raises an eyebrow.
“No?”
“Osamu, please,” you think you might crying. Over dick. The best you’ve ever had, but still. It’s a little hot and a little humiliating and you can’t think about anything but how much you need to cum on his cock right now.
“Say ‘thank you for giving me your cock, Osamu,’” he commands, and you fall all over yourself to comply even when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you drool and slur around them.
“Than- thank you for - for giving me your -“ you squeal out as he bucks his hips up into you. “Cock! Osamu, fuck, thank you, thank you, pleaseiwantit-“
“Didn’t need to say all that,” he says, sly smirk gracing his lips again as he finally, finally, slips his hand between your legs. All it takes is one little brush of his fingers against your sore clit and you’re cumming for him, body locking in place as your back arches.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Can’t even move when your cunt’s so tight.” But you can’t hear him, pussy still spasming around him like you’re trying to draw him in.
“Hello?” Chuuya’s annoyed voice accompanies the heavy knocking at your door. “Dazai, I swear to god, you dumb mackerel, if you sent me on another wild goose chase I’ll rip your fucking head off!”
The thumping gets louder, as if he’s trying to break the door down. With his strength, it’s only a matter of time, too. You give Dazai a wide eyed look of panic, but he’s smiling, pushing his hair, damp with sweat, out of his eyes.
“Well?” Dazai grins. “You going to answer him, baby?”
#sera writes#dazai x reader#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#chuuya x y/n#chuuya x you#chuuya x reader#dazai smut#chuuya smut#ns.fw
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the writing of Pikmin 4 is very interesting to me. the plot is extremely straightforward and simple, but there’s a surprising amount of side chatter (i’ve played over 50 in-game days so far and i think i’ve only gotten a single repeat of the-end-of-day dialogue between the crew). more than that though, there’s a lot of in-universe writing. there’s the Rescue Journal, which ostensibly is supposed to be a How To Play guide, but also includes Captain Shepherd’s diary which gives some surpririsng depth to a character that’s mostly comic relief. similarly Olimar has his voyage log, which from a gameplay point of view are meant as a guide for the player to how to approach certain areas and obstacles but also details his melancholy recollections of home
there’s also the in-game encyclopedias for monsters (the “Piklopedia”) and treasures (the Treasure Catalog), which have a description for every single entry, each written in the unique voice of their respective in-universe writers. but (spoilers) once Olimar is rescued he contributes his own entries to both encyclopedias, and an interesting dichotomy appears between the two. Olimar goes into a LOT of detail for his entries for the Piklopedia (which by the way already provided in-universe family names and scientific names for each creature) using a lot of real world biology terms the average layman probably wouldn’t know (notochord, protochordate, ambisexual, to name a few) and i can’t imagine the average 8-12 year old being familiar with. then when you move onto the Treasure Catalog a huge chunk of his notes are just him thinking about his wife and kids. it’s very cute, but there’s also a surprising amount of very mature musing-- stuff like thinking about getting older and the importance of self-care not for vanity’s sake but for the sake of your loved ones, thinking about how being ambitious in your career means exploiting those under you, thinking about the interactions between child and parent and how they change with age and perspective. thinking about fruit. thinking about his wife, son and daughter. a lot. it’s very, very cute
i know it’s trite to joke about how Pikmin, with its morbid premise and punishing gameplay, doesn’t seem like its for kids, but i really do wonder how kids react to it. can they understand the ruminating about responsibilty and adulthood? what do they think about all the melancholy and the bittersweetness? its hard for me to imagine children really connecting to something like that... but i think we underestimate children a lot. in any case, i’m glad they get the chance to play something this offbeat and thoughtful, and i’m glad i have the chance too! this weird somewhat sad atmosphere is one of things that has really endeared me to this game, and i’m glad i gave it a try
other than all of that, the character relationships are mostly pretty barebones. i did enjoy the minor subplot regarding Dingo the Rescue Corps ranger abandoning Bernard the pilot only for Bernard to return and slowly drive Dingo to madness via passive aggressive psychological warfare
#pikmin 4#why did i write so much about this#i mostly just wanted to think about how Olimar is cute#pikmin
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LISTEN I NEED MORE OF FREAKY NERD ARMIN PLSS
part one | part two
pairing: nerd!Armin x nb!reader
at school one day, you go to his desk that he usually sits in at third period, but he isn't there. so you get a little curious and look through his big piles of papers and heavy books
you find one journal not like the rest. it has many different penciled doodles and it's smaller, hand-held.
you flip to a random page and what you read surprises you...
you never knew Armin Arlert had such a potty mouth :0
it was intriguing to say the least. every detail seemed to be thought of so carefully
the way he described you made you're whole body heat up in anticipation... was your dream coming true?
you've liked Armin since you guys were kids, but he never gave off the vibes that he liked you... maybe he was just that respectful
your thoughts would be interrupted by Armin gasping behind you, with the reddest face you've ever seen
you'd tease him yes, but you would ask if he actually liked you...
he would finally have the guts to ask you out on a real date, since you've basically have seen what his thoughts have consisted of
he'd take you out to the local farmer's market, buy you some flowers, and walk around with you at the local park, watching the fireflies flicker and listening to the trickling stream
at some point, you guys would decide to go back to his place, and he would make the best dinner ever. Literally this man is a chef on the low
sitting down in his apartment and eating the meal he made for you, drinking a bottle of red wine (that's his parents lol), and listening to your guy's favorite songs...
after cleaning up together, you decide that this man proved himself to be a gentleman, so you make the first move and kiss him right there in the kitchen
the kiss is soft and genuine. after pulling away, you guys look at each other, the twinkle in his eyes were so comforting
he kisses you this time. he is slow, but it seems to be calculating. he doesn't want to overstep any of your boundaries (and mostly just trying to savor every moment he has with you)
you would bring your hands up to his soft hair, running your fingers through the thick mop
Armin loves his hair being played with, maybe a bit too much because he get's excited and the sweet little kisses you guys shared turned into a heated make out sesh
your adventurous hands continued to make their way around his upper torso
you'd feel his arms, his chest and his neck... everything was so soft that you could keep touching him forever
his hands would get the courage to roam your body too. he would start with your waist, then getting riskier by bringing them down to your ass
Armin is very vocal, he will let you know what he likes and also tell you what crosses his limit
so this man will definitely whimper, whine, moan, and groan to his little heart desires
you start kissing his neck and feeling the vibrations from his whimpers fuels your fire and you leave little hickeys - little enough that you could barely see them
Armin leads you to his room, wanting more privacy for you. he takes you to his bed and he asks you again if this is what you really want
you reassure him, but he still seems to be unsure. so you smile at him and continue where you left off in the kitchen
leaning over him so that he is the one laying on the bed with your legs on both sides of his torso, you take his hands and put them back where they belong, on your hips
he doesn't move them from this spot for a good 2 minutes while you guys are making out and getting hot and bothered. but he gets excited, you could feel it, and he starts to knead at your ass with his digits
this makes you moan and it drives him mad, flipping you guys over so than he has the upper hand
he kisses your mouth, chin, neck, chest, going over your nipples with open mouthed kisses, and continuing to go down until he stops at your navel, looking at you again with questioning eyes
you nod and help him take off your lower garments, excitement buzzing through your muscles
Armin's brain is moving a million miles per second, trying to remember how his fantasies played out. but he throws it all away and he focuses on you
he makes his spot between your legs, giving you eye contact the whole time because he wants to see every beautiful expression you make, especially the fucked-out one
he doesn't start slow with giving you head, hell no, this man goes in full swing. he wants to taste every bit of you
you grip onto his hair in shock, gasping at how fast he could move his long tongue
you could feel your legs start to shake after a few minutes of ecstasy, but Armin's arms lock over your thighs, keeping them down and out of his way
you continue to tug at his hair and moan out his name, and he is loving every second of it. he was too tight in his slacks at this point
without missing a beat, he takes off his pants
you notice but you were enjoying the feeling of his tongue on you that you couldn't get any words out
right before you could feel yourself reach your climax, you don't feel the heat of his face anymore but the cold air
you open your eyes and you see Armin on top of you, with both hands on both sides of your face and without his pants, what a sight to see, and his face glistening with your slick and his saliva. you could've came at the sight
Armin notices you staring at him and he gives you a half smile with a blush dusting his pretty face
Armin wasn't the biggest that you've been with, but man was it the prettiest and the perfect size. it was light with a pinkish blush on the tip and a little precum - it made you want to give it a quick kiss and a kitten lick
and you did, and the response from Armin was exactly what you wanted. His arms shake and he lets out a broken moan
but he stops you from continuing, "I can't hold it in much longer, let me be in you, please" he begs
you don't deny him his pleasure and lean back down to where you were originally, letting him take the lead again
the suspense intensifies as Armin catches his breath and gives you a long, passionate kiss.
While you are distracted, Armin slowly presses himself into you. There was minimal pain, from the saliva and slick preparing you
Once he is balls deep, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and so do you
you guys sit there a while so your body can adjust and the pleasure creeps up from your toes to your chest and you squirm below him, "please move" you moan into his ear, resting your hands on his shoulders
he doesn't hesitate, taking his hips back and thrusting himself back into you, the both of you moaning simultaneously
he stays at his steady pace, enjoying every ounce of pleasure that you are giving him
"god, you feel so good baby"
but it doesn't last long, you start to get antsy and you nibble on his ear and meeting his thrusts, showing him you are ready for more
Armin takes the hint and starts to hit the right spot, making your eyes roll into your skull and letting out an airy sigh
the speed of his hips surprise you as you hold onto his broad shoulders, nail indentations will definitely paint his skin in the morning
the both of you are very close to your climaxes as you can hear both of your breaths start to hitch in your throats and you can feel his thrusts start to get sloppy - but they never stop hitting your sweet spot
he holds his climax in until he sees you make a mess on him, your body convulsing and twitches under him while you moan out his name over and over again
once he feels you stop trembling, you feel Armin pull out and let himself spill all over your stomach with a loud groan, his pupils blown out
you guys lay next to each other for a while, catching your breath before he goes to grab a towel and some of his clothes for you
"lets do that again" Armin says with a giggle while he cleans you up
#armin smut#armin arlet x reader#armin aot#armin arlert#armin fanfiction#aot smut#aot fandom#aot fanfiction#aot#aot fluff#aot x reader#armin x reader#armin imagine#armin arlert imagine
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♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw
as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?
read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)
pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader
genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort
w/c ➭ 5.4k
warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself
a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!
“done?”
the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.
you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.
yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.
you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.” gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.
very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”
“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?”
you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”
“ugh, you-!”
“you ears are red, haha.”
your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot. “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek.
it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer.
at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.
here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter.
“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?
and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.
it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-
his lips were against yours.
you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”
hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you.
since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.
“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms.
jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”
“and who better than me, huh?”
jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”
you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart.
(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)
pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”
he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”
“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”
“it’s our dinner, y/n.”
“…”
he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”
“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”
you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”
so much for the grocery shopping.
dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.
it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)
how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain.
jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”
“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.
you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?
“don’t wanna.”
“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.”
sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”
one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot.
“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.
“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”
“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.
the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.
“y/n, i-”
you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”
you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.
it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”
he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”
and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.
shit. shit.
days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.
panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.
you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible.
your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.
in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.
you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.
he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time.
you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his.
“how do you do it?”
jungwon frowns. “do what?”
“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”
he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”
“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”
the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”
but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.
once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”
“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat.
why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?
(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)
true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.
it seems you’ve changed.
these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.
today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.
thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”
“forty?”
riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”
you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”
fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.
“…you want relationship advice from me?”
jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”
“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”
“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”
riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”
he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”
“uh-huh.”
“i can’t stop thinking about her.”
“uh-huh.”
“but i know she hates me-”
“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”
“how’d you guess?”
“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”
jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”
“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”
jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”
you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough.
besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you.
so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?
it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him.
oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”
“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”
as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.
besides, there’s nothing special about you.
you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.
it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.
with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?
jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts.
wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.
suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.
despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”
“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”
“mhm.”
and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”
he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”
“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”
he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)
“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”
you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”
“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”
“and…are you still scared?”
he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”
“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”
feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?
“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”
“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”
oh. oh.
but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.
at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”
“how is this relevant?”
“just answer the question.”
you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.
finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.
“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”
“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”
but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”
and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.
his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.
“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.
riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”
“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive.
oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.
by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”
anytime, if it’s with him.
a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS
#yang jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon x y/n#jungwon x you#enhypen jungwon#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen fanfic#enhypen ff#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen sunoo#enhypen niki#kim sunoo#enhypen nishimura riki#ni ki#nishimura riki#huh yunjin#le sserafim#le sserafim huh yunjin#yunjin#jungwon fanfic#jungwon fluff#jungwon#jungwon angst#enha
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soap headcanons
characters: johnny “soap” mactavish
summary: general/romantic headcanons!
genre: fluff, gn!reader (no desc.)
warnings: none! :)
note: been dealing with a lot recently, so here’s a low effort fluffy headcanon post with one of my favorite boys— i know it’s bad, but i just threw it together while fighting off sleep and didn’t bother to proofread it </3
his love languages are physical touch and acts of service.
⋆ as i’ve said before, it’s no secret that soap is a touchy guy, especially with the people he likes.
⋆ that being said, a casual high-five or side hug is vastly different from the way he touches you. instead of friendly taps and sarcastic banter, there’s a certain fondness in his gaze whenever he reaches for you.
⋆ doesn’t bother hiding his favoritism. if you or anyone else comments on it, he simply shrugs off the claim and drapes an arm across your shoulders. "i think you’re just jealous of 'em," is what most people hear after bringing it up.
⋆ big on acts of service as well!! soap loves doing things for you, no matter how big or small it may be. never demands acknowledgement or repayment for his acts, either - your comfort and happiness are his top priorities.
⋆ getting up early to surprise you with breakfast in bed, running to the store when you need something, handling the household chores so you can sleep in… soap takes every chance he can get to help out.
⋆ if you’re both in the 141, he revels in getting to do things for you while in the field, even after price and ghost chastise him for focusing on you too much. if you’re a civilian, however, soap can’t help but feel guilty every time he leaves you. knowing that you’ll potentially be without him for months, worrying and wondering when he’ll return, having to do everything on your own; the mere thought of it makes him hold you that much tighter every single night.
when he loves, he loves hard.
⋆ soap is a passionate guy, both at work and in his personal life. when he loves someone, he does it with his whole heart and soul. his love is all-consuming and full of warmth, just like the man himself.
⋆ there were plenty of sleepless nights before he confessed to you, hours spent obsessing over what to say and what to do, desperately trying to figure out how to express his feelings. drawings of you filled the pages of his journal– some were more refined, with great care put into each detail, while others were sketches that he snuck in after assignments, when you were too exhausted to notice his eyes flicking between you and the charcoal-covered page.
⋆ if you’re ever in danger, pity the fool that put you there. this man would move heaven and earth for you without a second thought or a single complaint, and there is nothing on this planet that could possibly prevent him from doing so.
⋆ leading off of that– soap is very protective. not unbearably so, he’s not the type of guy to control you or treat you like some kind of property, but he will take any opportunity he can to care for and protect you. he basically appoints himself as your personal bodyguard, regardless of how capable you may be.
⋆ simple things like holding your hand, guiding you through crowds, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, giving you his jacket, and calling or texting you to check in is his bread and butter. if he can’t physically be with you, chances are you’ll end up with someone he trusts by your side. he knows first-hand how dangerous the world is, and soap has no plans of letting you be put in harm’s way.
he is a massive flirt.
⋆ look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn’t know how attractive he is. i’m not saying that soap is a cocky bastard - far from it, in fact - but he’s well aware of the effect he has on people.
⋆ once he discovers something you like, he utterly abuses it. your eyes linger on him whenever he braces himself against the doorframe? well, suddenly it’s the most comfortable way to stand! your mind wanders off to a certain place when he speaks to you in a low voice? my, my… he just remembered another story that he simply must tell.
⋆ once he’s sure that the feelings are mutual, soap is bold. cornering you just to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, placing a hand on your knee or thigh just to watch you squirm, casually slipping cheeky remarks and subtle innuendos into your conversations in front of the team. if you respond in kind? even better. he’d love to go back and forth, to challenge you and see who breaks first.
⋆ unsurprisingly, his resolve crumbles first. despite his confidence and desperate attempts to break you, all it takes is a single ghosting of your lips against his to send him over the edge.
⋆ it’s nigh-impossible to not be confident while in this relationship. soap loves, loves, loves complimenting you at every chance. it doesn’t matter how you look or how you feel; you’re always attractive in his eyes. if you ever try to disagree with him, he’ll just grin and shake his head with a simple, "none o' that, love. you’re perfect just like this."
taglist: @sofasoap , @rohansregret
#call of duty#cod#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#call of duty headcanons#cod headcanons#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap headcanons#cod soap#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#sylph.writes
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so this is just me writing so randomly about kratos x f!reader, it contains y/n, and I don't know if I can say this is an one-shot but it's a thing, clearly, so enjoy. ^^
& warning!: this one has explicit language, so, minors do not allow to read!
also I can make part II if you want. ;)
we all know kratos writes a diary in which he explains creatures, people, gods, goddess and all other things. but imagine that he writes so many pages about u. he begins to write about you from the beginning, the moment he meets with you. with times, he begins to write about so many things about u, your relationship with both him and atreus.
he firstly writes specific information about u, telling how you help them to find food, showing them where they can hunt safely without others sights. he tells "she is a strong one." the moment you show your true power. he sees how you have a strength to live alone. then with times, he begins to write in more detail way like how your body and face features look good and strong, how you smile while speaking with atreus, how you both have a bossy and mommy features. he loves to see how happy atreus to have you by his side. he loves to see how you heal him, feed him, give him more knowledge about the realms and show affection. the way you treat to both him and atreus, as well as wolves atreus have and mimir who travel on kratos' belt, he finds happiness and trust.
he nearly writes 2 times in a week, using diary to transfer his unspoken feelings and thoughts to it. his memories of you begin to mark with every word he put to it. he fears nothing. he fears not a single thing but he have an unwanted feeling on his chest whenever you ask him what he writes about you because you know he has a journal thanks to the developed bond you have.
he never tells. he even finds them odd. while writing them, he wants to rip and burn them because they are so personal.
however, he can't. he just find peace in them, reading after awhile, he remembers memories he hold about you.
firstly, he writes a little about you, not wanting to add someone to his life to protect atreus of course but then, he begins to write about u rather than writing events that occurred with you. innocent sentences turn into lustful ones after he sees your liking on him which you show without a shame when you are all alone, mimir and atreus staying in the home. you both give him care and passion, and he likes it.
the sentence "she give me hope that everything will be fine. she is a good friend." turns into, "atreus likes her and so do I. spending time with her is... good.", then, "she looks lovely. whenever I look at her, I see the beauty she holds." and lastly, "I want to woo her."
yes, he wants to fuck you; woo in his words.
he tries to not to write private words in it but he can't help himself. his hand move with its own will, not thinking about any risks like you finding them.
and indeed, you find them. and you read them. firstly, tears appear on your face because of feeling so good about kratos' words. you know kratos holds a delicate heart even if he denies it but also you surprise to see him to show his this side to you. then, tears leave its place to small laughs and smiles. finally, with reading some pages, you feel an arousal rising on you. you can't deny that you love to read them, especially when knowing kratos was the one who wrote all these things.
as you read, "I want to woo her. wishing her to stay under me -" kratos comes.
firstly, he looks at you, then his diary you hold and then again to your innocent looking eyes with thighs crushed against each other, smell of your precum all over the place. kratos keeps his silence posture for a moment, then, he slowly approaches to you. he picks the journal from your hand, putting it to other side, he looks down at your pathetic body.
"you read it without my permission?"
"I -" you try to say, but his deep dangerous voice and posture make you stop. breathing deeply, you try to begin again because of his piercing eyes on you, "I am sorry, curiosity poisoned me. I shouldn't have."
"But you did, indeed." Holding your face from the chin, he makes you to look at his eyes that burn you, not giving you any chance to escape from them. "You know how I don't like disobedience."
"I know," You say with dry mouth, "I am sorry, Kratos."
"Then", he kneels to get closer to your face, "Be a good girl and accept your punishment." He looks at the pages you read the moment he enters the room, then at you again, "If you really be a good girl, I can make those things to you."
Holding your smirk, you say, innocently, "I will. I will be your good girl, Kratos."
THE END.
| masterlist
^^ ehe. thanks for sharing this unholy thing with me (even if it's just a little.)
#gow#gow 4#gow: r#kratos#God of war#kratos x reader#Kratos x f!reader#God of war x reader#gow x reader#gow kratos#atreus#it's like an imagine story so I hope you liked it!#gow masterlist#masterlist#written by me#rose#vom#thanks for reading this#<3
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hii could you please write about how the jjk men's social media would look like, like what would they post, how often, what socials they would have? sorry if this is 2 specific!!
HOW THEIR INSTAGRAM PAGES WOULD LOOK LIKE [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]
❁—CHARACTERS: nanami kento, yuta okkotsu, gojo satoru (toji isn’t here bc the only online platform he’s on is onlyfans)
a/n: hey hey~ no worries! i love making stuff like these anyway, thanks for this btw, had a lot of fun making these. i only made ig as their socials as of rn because i don’t have twitter so i don’t rlly know how that works ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১
༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO
↬ nanami’s instagram would have really warm, vibrant tones to accentuate each and every mundane detail of his life into something that looks so euphoric and almost utopian-like which isn’t at all surprising seeing as this man has seen so much pain and suffering for a good majority of his life.
↬ i think he’d pick up photography as a hobby, maybe he’ll dabble into playing around with the settings on adobe lightroom or maybe secretly attend saturday workshops, on his way home from his bakery run, where he gets to learn all the fundamentals on photography composition. he eventually learns about instagram and he downloads the app on a whim when he gets bored at work. he appreciates the user friendly interface and gets the hang of it pretty quickly. he usually posts thrice a month, more if his schedule allows.
↬ now the thing with kento is he doesn’t usually put captions on his photos other than single emojis like: “🐱” or “🥐”. an exception to this is when he posts your birthday photos. he lovingly spares a few words for you that are minimal, at best, only containing a short birthday greeting. but hey, it’s written in pretty font, sooo~~
kento watches you from the couch situated near your home’s screen door leading to the pocket garden the two of you set up when you first moved in together. a small smile plays at his lips when you momentarily jump in surprise as your cat rubs herself against your legs finally ending your little game of hide and seek. “there you are,” you crouch down to scratch her ears. the loving scene of domesticity unfolds before him like a record tape from the nineties, complete with subdued hues of yellow and rose. “sweetheart, could you look here for a bit?” he calls as he fumbles with his phone. you look up confused and that’s when he decides to snap the picture. “hey! i wasn’t ready,” you protest. but he’s already posting the picture on his instagram with the caption: “💕”.
༊*·˚ YUTA OKKOTSU
↬ yuta has a fascination with sunsets. there’s just something so alluring and somewhat sorrowful about the last flicker of sunlight waging a war against her opponent, the night sky and her stars, to keep its dominion over the sky. yuta has always struggled with the notion of impermanence — he finds change to be downright terrifying which is why he took it upon himself to confront this fear by taking pictures of the setting sun, a form of change that is ironically as unchanging as his love for a certain someone, hehe.
↬ he normally uses his instagram as a digital journal of sorts. he’s always away owing to the many missions he’s now been assigned as a sorcerer second only to gojo satoru. he writes down entries, as much as possible, on a weekly basis to properly process the many emotions he’s felt that day.
↬ naturally, you’re always the first to view the pictures ergo press the heart button which always makes him turn a bright shade of pink despite the many years you’ve been together. AND, even though you’ve already technically seen the pictures, yuta will ALWAYS show it to you again when he gets home from work and regale you with all the amazing details about his recent trip.
yuta practically melted into your arms when he came in through the front door. “missed you,” he murmurs. you crane your head back to get a good look at him and you heave a sigh of blissful relief when you neither find a single scratch nor bruise on him. “are you alright, my love?” he asks, head tilted to the right, his eyes wide with curiosity at your silence. “yeah, fine,” you shake your head, playfully pinching his unscathed cheek earning a whistle-like chortle from the young sorcerer. “you know,” he says thoughtfully when his laughter dies down. “i never realized how beautiful the hida mountains are,” he recounts the wondrous things he’d seen and taken photos of from the sleepy lake town they took refuge in, to the mighty mountain river he and gojo had crossed on their way to the summit, to the towering willow trees with branches so ancient they could practically block out the sun, and finally to the mysterious abandoned forest shrine that only showed itself to an honored few, emerging from the haze like a ghostly apparition. he continues to ramble on for a substantial amount of time, scrolling through his phone gallery, not knowing that you’d dozed off. “2:48 AM,” the clock read. yuta sighs at your sleeping form, hearts practically swarming in his eyes. he lifts the blankets to cover your forms. “guess we’ll just have to go together someday,” he says, pecking your cheek before shifting ever so carefully to turn off the nightlight.
༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU
↬ posts low contrast pictures with low brightness because he’s cool that way. if not for the fact that he mostly shares memes, his feed actually looks pretty good, it’s subtle but appealing in many ways and it looks glorious on dark mode, it kinda reminds you of those pinterest or twitter moodboards. he knows his way around setting a moody vibe on his feed, and to think almost all of his pictures were shot on his old iphone. satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer of his generation, much to the surprise of many, is actually quite talented. who would’ve thought?
↬ but please PLEASE someone get instagram away from this man, the world is not ready for his genius. now unlike the others, satoru uses instagram purely for fun. and yes, he posts dumb shit like they’re scripture. he got in trouble with the community once when he posted a picture of dixie (depicted above) from the teletubbies with the caption: “bake those cookies dixie”. you had to help him submit an incident report to the community moderators and a promissory note stating that he’ll never post such lewd things again. and he didn’t (thank god). for a full week, that is. he relapsed almost immediately.
↬ on the bright side, though, his followers always find it cute whenever he posts pictures of the two of you on your dates, even the ever-stoic nanami couldn’t resist the urge to smile whenever he comes across a picture of his senior having the time of his life with you. god knows how much gojo satoru deserves to love and be loved in return, even if he once thought it to be the most repulsive of curses.
gojo watches you from the other end of the table, a tipsy simper on his features when he notices your eyelids drooping, your head bobbing in your drunken stupor, your lips slightly open as your breathing evens out. “you drunk, baby?” he slurs as he polishes off the last of the yakiniku set you ordered, the oily, sweet and salty grilled meat seemingly simmering down the effect of the alcohol. you were the only ones left in the izakaya, at this point, the owner has half a mind to throw the both of you out so they could close for the night. “nooooo,” you sniffle before a tiny hiccup rips through your throat. cute, satoru stares at you with lovestruck eyes. “stop that,” you look at him through your blurred vision. “stop what?” satoru asks, his head resting on the hardwood table as his hand searches his jeans for his phone. he had to capture this moment before he blacks out. “looking at me like i’m the most beautiful girl in the room,” you scowl disapprovingly. he manages to find his iphone just before he nods off to sleep, snapping a picture of the both of you. empty plates and half-finished shot glasses are strewn about your table and the night’s festivities are perfectly captured in the frame. the two of you looked absolutely hammered — your normally tidy hair was disheveled, and his face looked like a cross between a sore thumb and a ripe tomato — but still, you looked happy. and to satoru, that’s all that really matters. “but you are, baby,” he pats you on the head before finally passing out. “you are.”
#⚘—eiwrites#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#nanami kento x you#yuta okkotsu x you#yuta okkotsu headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#nanami kento headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#jjk x you#gojo x you#nanami x you#yuta x you#gojo x y/n#nanami x y/n#yuta x y/n#jjk imagines#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#nanami fluff#yuta fluff#kento nanami#yuta okkotsu#gojo satoru#jjk#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n
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your favourite nuisance // red hood x vigilante!reader
summary: you have another run-in with the red hood. this time you’re the one doing the annoying—defeating his target before he even gets to the scene. your vigilante name is striker!
warnings: violence, swearing
word count: 1036
a/n: striker!reader is such a fun character to write and i will probably continue to do so! that said, request/asks are open and encouraged as always!
you get the villain red hood was after. by the time he arrives to the fight, they’re being carted off by police. they’ll be headed to arkham, instead of carted off in a body bag destined for the morgue and the red hood–you add a ‘the’ because it makes his name sound more threatening, and right now, stalking towards you, he looks threatening. at least a head taller than you and wearing that stupid mask that should make it infuriatingly easy to hide his emotions–but he wastes that opportunity. his body language gives him away every time and you swear you can almost see steam billowing out of his ears like some ready-to-explode, red-with-rage, cartoon character. “red hood,” you acknowledge. “nice to see you.”
he starts shouting and you ignore him. you turn into an alleyway, keeping your back to him as you walk away. in gotham, there are very few people you would trust to stand behind you, to watch your back and not jam a knife in it. you’re really surprised when you realise red hood, the red hood, is one of those people you trust. you laugh a little, shaking your head all the while. glancing into a puddle, you see red hood’s reflection storming after you, getting closer and closer. you don’t change your pace. you aren’t trying to avoid a confrontation, you actually don’t care at all. as far as you’re concerned it’s inevitable. you knew what you were doing taking down a villain red hood laid claim to. you knew what would happen, how he’d react and you did it anyway. You’re not trying to avoid confrontation, you’re just trying to move it away from the reporter who had been lingering beside your crime scene, wanting the scoop. you happily gave her the details you could, but didn’t want your generosity being a mistake.
you didn’t want to go home and find yours and red hood’s faces in the paper. not for fighting. not for anything else. drama was something you tended to stay out of and this was different, okay? you weren’t being dramatic, you were simply having fun. red hood was as much a rival as he was a friend. you would never ever voice that, but it made it no less true.
in another puddle you see his hand raise. Before he can grab your arm and force you to look at him, you spin around. you face him but only because you want to (not because, never because, if he really wanted you looking into his eyes he would be able to make you and that could be incredibly embarrassing)
you smile up at him, all fake-niceness. you pat his shoulder, “aw, don’t worry red. i’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time. if not, i left some of the small fishes for you.
“what the hell striker?”
“get over yourself, red. you’ve ruined my day more times than i can count, it’s time you see how it feels.”
he scoffed. “more times than you can count? you’re going to have to go back to school sweetheart because vigilantism doesn’t pay the bills and if you can’t count to twenty eight not even the supermarket near crime alley will hire you.”
“twenty eight? has the red hood been counting our encounters?” you laugh, being flooded with all sorts of ridiculous mental imagery–red hood scribbling in a pink notebook, red hood writing with a dry erase marker on the fridge, red hood, get this, looking forward to seeing you. jeez, you’re laughing so hard your stomach aches.
“do you journal? ‘dear diary, today i saw striker for the fifteenth time! i stole her thunder, ruined her night, and she went home and cried into ramen. ah, such a productive day fueled by tears, the blood left on my suit from the needless slaughter i just love to partake in, newspaper headlines, and assholery!’ is that about right?”
“shut the hell up.”
“i don’t think i will. besides, you don’t want me to. you’d be bored and have nothing to write about.”
“i wouldn’t be bored. there's a clear difference between bored and peaceful. also, i don’t write about you. i don’t even like you, striker.” okay, ouch. the big guy might as well have punched you in the nose because that one hurt a surprising amount.
you recovered quickly, never letting your mask (metaphoric) fall, your actual mask you didn’t need to worry about. it was as secure as secure got. covering your nose and mouth, all that could be seen was your eyes and on nights where you knew things would get messy, you wore goggles, rose tinted ones, that blood couldn’t stain, that you had commissioned from a seller on etsy. “you do too! i’m your favourite nuisance.”
“you aren’t.” he says immediately. hating you is one of his reflexes, how sweet. “you’re like my third favourite nuisance.”
you raise an eyebrow. just one. it’s as accusing as it is amusing.
“second…” he trails off. “alright, goddammit. yeah, you’re my favourite nuisance. happy?
“fucking ecstatic, actually red.” you grin and if you had to guess–he rolls his eyes.
“that villain,” back to business, as always. you straighten your spine and prepare for the scolding of a lifetime. you tilt your chin up and glare at his mask. “that was my target and you know it. that said, you did a good job.”
“if he hangs himself in his cell at arkham i’ll know it was you. i’ll be pissed–wait, red, there’s no way that you just said that. that was so a compliment. the only thing missing and making you seem awful was the fact you forgot to say ‘thank you!’ wow, regardless, i’m proud. honoured, even.”
“next time let me handle it.”
“you’re welcome!” you say in a sing-song voice. one that’s way too cheery for the other vigilante’s liking.
“striker?”
“yeah?”
“you really are a nuisance.”
“i like to put the emphasis on ‘favourite’ but sure, that works.” you slide past him in the alleyway, heading out. you stop on your tippy toes to whisper your goodbyes and don’t miss the blinding camera flash or the gawking reporter at the entrance of the alleyway.
#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#red hood x reader#red hood#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x reader#jason todd#batfam#striker!reader
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Aonung x male reader.
So…You know how every metkayina has a spirit sister or brother. Well…The reader was writing a book about the fauna and flora of the reef and he stumbled across Aonung spririt brother with the tracker the humans shot to the tulkun. He takes it out and starts a conversation with Aonung Spirit brother and he thanks the reader for Saving him. Then the reader returns and stumbles across Aonung and mentions saving a Tulkun. Aonung is impressed and finally recognizes his feelings for the reader. Then when the tulkun come back to metkayina home, Aonung reunites with his spirit brother and he mentions a male na’vi that saves his life. Then Aonung starts to gush and simp about the reader to his tulkun. Then he realizes that the reader saved his spirit brother and Aonung asked his brother for advice on what to do about his feelings. His spirit brother tells him to confess, but Aonung says that the reader is not one of emotions. His spirit brother tells him that the boy loves him back. Then he find later the reader writing on the cove of ancestors and he confess.
I apologize if it’s quite long. I like to be detailed so the writers don’t suffer.
Aonung x M!reader
Genre: angst/fluff
Pronouns: he/him
Warnings: reader gets injured while saving the tulkun, mentions of a strict father, and SPOILERS
Okay imagine how much strength reader has because, do you know how many people it took to take off the tracker from lo'aks tulkun? Also sorry if this is a bit bad. Another sorry because I might have changed things a bit, and there's a bit of Tsiyera x reader but mainly focus on aonung x reader
Fem aligned readers DNI
After (___) finished doing his last task, he quickly went to his marui and took his handmade journal. He had his afternoon all to himself and what better way to spend it than to write things about the fauna and flora of the reef, he called his ilu and went outside the reef. He found an isolated island a bit far from the village, it's the perfect place for him to relax without being disturbed.
"Finally I can continue writing." He said sighing in relief, his father finally let him have a break which was a relief. You loved your father but he doesn't usually give you a break instead he puts you into adult activities to "strengthen" your body and core. Of course it worked but you're still young, a teen to be precise. A teen who also needs a break, you understand that your father just wants you to be prepared for being a future warrior but you still need a break from this problems.
"....Ahh!-enough negative thoughts, I need to continue writing." And so you did..until you were interrupted by a loud cry of a sea animal, the cry was familiar almost as if it was a.."A TULKUN-" you cared about tulkuns alot. You had one before but..he died, so you didn't hesitate to try and look for it.
You made clicking sounds to call for your ilu, the loud cry was close so it didn't take long for you to find the tulkun "hey hey, calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you." You said to the tulkun swimming towards it trying to find the reason why it was crying out loud, and oh boy did you winched at the sight of a large tracker sticked to the skin of the tulkun "oh,oh boy. D-dont worry, surely we'll find a way to take thing thing out." You said trying to calm you and the tulkun, once you tried pulling it out you realized it might take more to take the thing out.
"Zazu come here boy." You called your ilu and wrapped a rope around it, you wrapped the rope on the part where it doesn't hurt so your ilu won't be in pain "alright go as hard and fast as you can once I say go, alright?" Your ilu flapped it's fins in acknowledge and counted to 3 "1,2,3 GO!" You yelled as tried to pull the tracker off the tulkun as hard as you can, it move a bit but it wasn't enough. You thought this situation couldn't get any worse..well it did cause you saw a ship coming towards making you panic "s-shit! Go GO, WE NEED TO PULL HARDER" you panicked pulling the tracker as hard as you can, your ilu swimming as fast as it could hoping it would help.
The ship started to get closer which made you panic more, the tracker started to slide off bit by bit until it finally came off. "GO, HURRY!" you told the tulkun while you swam towards your ilu and took the ropes off, your ilu swam as fast as he could trying to lose the crab like machines that was chasing them. You decided to go and hide in the seaweed jungle hoping they'll get lost but luck wasn't by your side this time. The sky people kept appearing infront of you and beside you making things a bit hard.
So you quickly went out the seaweed jungle and went to the corals to hide. Again they found you and you already lost your ilu, their machines were strong enough to destroy the corals in their way and you are running out of breath. The corals edges gave you some cuts but you weren't focused on that right now, you were focused escaping but you just found a dead end. You gave up, you were gonna die from the lack of air or drowned so why bother. You were gonna die.
Sike-lmao tulkuns came and attacked the sky people but before you passed out one of them swam to the very top carrying you on their fin, you muttered a little 'thank you' before you passed out.
Part 2? KIDDING-
You soon woke up from the waves hitting your face making you choke a bit, you were laying on a rock and it was pretty dark. You finally noticed the cuts all around your body making you winched at the sight "oww...wait shi-ZAZU? ZAZU?!" you tried calling for your ilu not because you wanted to go home but because you were worried something happened to your beloved ilu, "Aish, how am I gonna go home now.." you said looking around for a solution.
You sat down trying to think of a solution that is until a loud call of your name was heard, at first you thought it was just your imagination but the second time you heard it you started yelling back "Hey-HEY IM OVER HERE!!!" you yelled as loud as you can hoping they would hear you, you saw a glimpse of an ilu swimming towards you and you immediately knew who it was "zazu! zazu, I'm so glad you're okay boy!" You said going near your ilu, soon after your father swam towards you "(___)! There you are, we have been looking all over for you!" Your father said hugging you. You were honestly suprised he hugged you but you hugged back, enjoying the affection.
"what happened to you?! Why are you covered in cuts?!" Your father said examining your body "I uh..I can't recall.." you said feeling a bit lightheaded "(___), are you okay?" He asked, you didn't get to answer because you suddenly passed out. The last thing you heard was your father calling out your name.
.
.
.
.
The light of the sun woke you up and you felt like...shit. "ughh, my body hurtss" you groaned catching the attention of the people in the marui, you tried to sit up but a hand stopped you from doing so "do not sit up yet, you're hurt." The oh so familiar voice made you open your eyes "aonung?! W-what are you doing here?" You asked a bit shocked to see him, he sat down beside you and giggled "what does it look like? I'm visiting you..well not just me my uh parents are also here to see you." He admitted your eyes finally shot up wide open and looked behind him to see the olo'eyktan and the tsahik. Out of instinct you quickly sat up and bowed to them, soon followed by the stings of your wounds by the sudden movement "ow ow ow owwww" you whined placing a hand on your back.
"(___) drop down the formalities you don't have to act like that when nobody is around." tonowari said Ronal nodding in agreement, Tsiyera sat down to your side quickly "I'm glad you're awake (___), do you need something?" Tsiyera asked you shook your head "I'm fine but if I'm allowed to ask, uncle,auntie may I ask why you guys are also here?" You asked politely your father was very close to the olo'eyktan and the tsahik you heard that your father was close friends with them so you considered them as your auntie and uncle "what? Am I not allowed to know if my friend's son is okay?" He joked a bit "half of the reason is that but I'm just here to ask on what made you get into this situation, why did we found you injured" he asked, you hesitated to tell him "the sky people were attacking a tulkun, so I saved it but..the sky people chased after me."
You tried to recall your memory "I tried to lose them in the seaweed jungle but their machines were fast and almost caught me then lost my ilu." The people in your listened but aonung was fuming in anger because of what the sky people had done to you, how dare they try to capture you and the tulkuns and to put you in this kind of state. He swore once he find those who tried to hurt you, he will pay them back after what they did.
"I got most of the scratches from the corals but some of it were from the spears thrown at me. The tulkuns saved me and now I'm here." You ended, the family looked at you with pity "you had done a good deed, but right now you need rest brave warrior" Ronal said tonowari nodded, they decided it's time to leave but aonung saved "is something wrong, Nung?" You used the nickname he oh so loved, but what caught you suprised was when he hugged you "I'm just glad your alive and okay.." it took you a few seconds to process what was happening and hugged back "mhm, me too."
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Its been a few days since the incidents and aonung had been VERY protective of you, he would not let you leave the marui and monitored your wounds 24/7 "Nung...seriously I'm okay, you dont have to worry about me." You said dumbfounded at aonung who tending your wounds "not after the stunt you made, I am not gonna let you out of my sight until you are FULLY okay." He said after finishing tending your wounds.
It's been a few days and you manage to sneek out of your marui and went to the isolated island where you saved the tulkun, yes yes it might be dangerous but you were hoping to meet the tulkun you just saved. And you were right, you found it there chilling so you swam with your ilu towards it "hey! We meet again, how are you?" You signed to the tulkun "indeed we meet again and I'm doing alright, I should be the one asking you if you're alright. I saw how injured you looked before" the tulkun said and you giggled "yes yes, I'm alright now. A few scratches isn't gonna hurt me that much." You lied, oh boy You lied because it hurted so damn much you kept passing out from the pain.
"thank you for saving my life, I owe you for that. If you weren't there I don't think I would be having this conversation with you right now" the tulkun said "no worries, I wouldn't dare to leave a tulkun just like that." You signed back and you sighed "is something wrong?" The tulkun asked a bit worried about you "oh it's nothing, it's just..there's a boy I like but I don't know if he likes me back or not." You signed to him covering your face with your hands "I feel like he's out of my league, there's so many people in my clan who's a better mate than me. I can barely show my emotion. He's brave,caring,responsible,and a really funny guy. I don't wanna ruin my friendship with him." You said "is there a reason why you think he won't like you back?" The tulkun asked.
"he's gonna be the future olo'eyktan and I'm just..I'm just a warrior who scares and intimidate people alot because how I act." You admitted "you're much more than you think, you saved my life from the sky people with the help of your ilu and through your strategies, you risked your life to save mine you were willing to die just so you can save a tulkun's life." The tulkun continued "you're not just a warrior, you are a brave,smart,determined warrior not just a normal warrior." The tulkun said and you smiled "I guess you're right but I don't have the courage to tell my feelings for him, I don't wanna ruin my friendship with him." You noticed that it was getting dark "I need to go, it was nice talking to you brother" you said calling for ilu "I hope we meet again." The tulkun said
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You were kneeling on the floor with your father looking down on you "where were you." He said sternly, you looked at the ground and gulped "I went outside the reef to go hunting." You half truth, I mean it's true you went outside the reef but you didn't exactly tell the real reason why. Your father sighed "ma'itan you shouldn't be going outside the reef in that kind of state, what if the sky people found you again. What if they actually captured you." Your father said, you didn't say anything just looked down at the floor in shame, he sighed looking at his son with worry in his eyes "I'll let this one go this time, you are dismissed." Your father said and you quickly bowed and went outside.
You went away from the marui and exhaled in relief "what a relief." "Awh, looks like the brave warrior is afraid of his own father." Aonung appeared behind you startling you a bit "stop appearing behind me like that and you would get scared too if your father has that kind of stern look in their face." He laughed "I guess you're right." You two stopped talking and admired the eclipse, you noticed the hesitant look on aonung's face
"hey..you okay?" You asked you noticed his ears went down a bit and hesitated to tell you "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he cut off your sentence "no it's okay it's just..what if they didn't find you, what if we found you too late.." he confessed, you were shocked. You don't usually see aonung this down, you're used seeing him all confident and demanding "well if I have to be honest, I don't think I would be here talking to you right now. I would be, dead." You answered his question straightforwardly "exactly! You would've died, I don't want to lose you yet. Not ever would I ever wanna lose you!" Needless to say you were a bit flustered on what he said but you didn't exactly show it, you held his hand and put it on your chest to where your heart is "I'm right here aonung alive and well, my heart is beating. Do not focus on the what ifs and focus on the present." Aonung frown turned into a teasing smirk "y'know you can't let go of my hand now, you can always ask me if you want me to touch your chest or something" he said in a teasing tone, (___) quickly slapped his hand away his way turning a bit purple "shut it." He quickly said aonung laughing in response.
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A quite snore was heard in a marui, but was quickly interrupted by someone body slammed their body on him, (___) groaned by the sudden body weight waking him up "ow, what the hell man." You groaned turning your body hoping it would make the person ontop of you leave you "wake up sleepyhead the tulkuns are here." Aonung said shaking (___) aggressively "I never thought aonung would act like this to someone, is the person special to him or something?" Lo'ak whispered to Tsiyera "that's (___) one of the best hunters in the village and the son of a well known warrior in the clan, he's our childhood friend too. I've always admired his leadership and confidence, no wonder our father took a liking to him." Tsiyera explained, the tone on her voice was painfully obvious that she admired (___) alot "you seem to like him alot." Neteyam said nudging his younger brother, he nudged back in response "yes I like him alot as a friend of course, why did you ask?" Tsiyera respond a bit oblivious "oh it's nothing." "OWWW-OKAY OKAY ILL GET UP STOP DRAGGING ME." you yelled at aonung who started to drag you by your feet, you quickly stood up and walk towards to Tsiyera "hey reya" you greeted Tsiyera using the nickname you used when you were young "and you guys must be the sully kids, pleasures to meet you." You greeted them, lo'ak glaring you a bit which was a bit confusing on why he glared at you "hurry up let's go!" Aonung said pushing you a bit "calm down, I'll go I'll go!"
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"hey, how come he isn't looking for his tulkun?" Lo'ak asked looking at (___) who was sitting on the net bridge looking at the people bonding with their tulkuns "ah..aonung should we tell him?" Tsiyera asked looking at aonung for an answer "we probably should or else he might bother (___)." Aonung said rolling when lo'ak glared at him "alright, you see (___)'s spirit died helping the other tukuns escaped but the life gives and takes. They gave the tulkuns the chance to escape but...they took (___) spirit brother's life.." Tsiyera said the mood feeling a bit tense and down "(___) demeanor changed at that time, the whole village was scared to talk to him or even look at him, even aonung was intimidated and scared of him." Tsiyera said "it's true." Aonung admitted "so tree boy if you're planning to ask (___) about this, consider that as a death wish from him." Aonung said looking at lo'ak who gulped from fear. "I should go accompany (___), I don't want him to feel lonely. Aonung are you gonna join me?" Tsiyera asked aonung who shook his head "no, I have to go see my spirit brother." Aonung said swimming away to find his spirit brother.
Aonung found his spirit brother and swam towards it "brother long time no see." He signed smiling happy to see his spirit brother after a long time "how are you?" Aonung asked "all is good but I almost got caught because of the sky people but a brave na'vi saved me." The tulkun responded "really?! Do you know who they are, I need to thank them for that." Aonung asked the tulkun who let out a cry "I forgot to ask his name but he looks like your childhood friend. How is he by the way?" The tulkun asked aonung "ah, a few weeks ago he saved a tulkun but he got a bit reckless and got himself injured badly, we thought he died when he passed out." Aonung signed the tulkun let out another cry signifying he was shocked "really? Can you explain the whole situation on how it happened" aonung nodded and explained the whole situation.
"(___) must be the one who saved me, the situation matches perfectly with mine." The tulkun let out a happy cry while aonung was in awe "well no wonder, he's (___) afterall the well known brave hunter in the village.He must've been so strong to pull that tracker of you, I guess the training paid off-i mean have you seen how toned and muscular his body is, geez I can go on talking about him." aonung said smiling giddly like a teenager who's high over heels for someone (to which he is.) The tulkun eyes squinted "you must really like him or have a crush on him, have you thought of confessing to him?" He asked aonung hesitated a bit and shook his head "he isn't really one with relationships and showing any emotions after y'know.." aonung admitted "ah..you might be wrong, brother he likes you he really does. We talked. A week ago and he told me how much he likes you but was afraid to ruin the friendship between you and him." The tulkun said while aonung stares at him a bit shocked "did he say anything about me?" Aonung asked a bit hesitant "of course, he told me how you were such a brave,responsible,and funny guy you are. I would've thought he would've told more if it wasn't going dark that time." Aonung smiled, a warm feeling in his heart started to appear "brother can you please help me how I should confess my feelings for him?"
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"Nung, care to tell me why you brought me here?" (___) asked a bit surprised aonung brought him to the cove of ancestors "(___) I've been meaning to tell you." Aonung was a bit hesitant to tell him which made the boy infront of him suspicious "yes?" Aonung held (___) arms and looked at him "(___), I love you. Will you be my mate!" Aonung spilled the beans and (___) was a bit shocked by the sudden confession "(___)? Are you okay?" Aonung asked a bit worried, (___) held aonung's cheek and gentle kissed him, the kiss was gentle and passionate once he pulled away he craved for more "..." "Of course, Ma aonung." Aonung took a few seconds to process things and tackled him into a hug making them fall.
Bonus:
"my spirit brother told me how much you liked me and acted like a teenager Head over heels for someone" aonung teased "I think you were the one head over heels, I saw how much you blushed whenever you talk about me. And it's cute how I can make you act like that." Aonung blushed and punched his shoulder slightly "oh shut up." "Make me."
I didn't think this would take this much time
Taglist:
@nerdyglasess
#aonung#aonung x reader#aonung x male reader#lo'ak#neteyam#ronal#tonowari#tsiyera#avatar: the way of water#avatar imagine#avatar 2#avatar twow
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Hola!Can I request an arcane headcanon where the reader who has a habit of playing with their own hair?And what would be the arcane characters reaction to it?Ty!
THIS IS SO-AHHH
.: arcane masterlist :.
𝐟𝐭 -> 𝐯𝐢, 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐱, 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧, 𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐨, 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫
°𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 °
VI
my heart. as we all know, she’s not accustomed to physical affection as much as she should be, seeing how the only physicality that flew her way for the past few years had been a series of beatings.
and being so stubborn, she absolutely denies being touch starved
so the first time you touched her hair she just. froze
she’d been at the kitchen table wrapping her arms up when you found her, giving her a sleepy grin and moving to stand behind her chair to watch
“hey there,” she grinned at you.
you hummed. “g’morning.”
nonchalantly, your fingers grazed through the pink strands in the direction the spiked bangs laid, eyes staring off in thought
vi instantly looked up. she didn’t say anything at first, initially expecting you to stop
but you just kept going
she awkwardly clears her throat. “uh, whatcha’ doin there…?”
you blink a few times. “oh sorry. force of habit..”
your fingers stop their movements and she frowns.
“oh.. well, i mean…if you wanna keep doing it, i mean..you can.”
you grin again and continue the action, earning a deep sigh from her.
this becomes a regular occurrence from then on between you two. either vi will lay herself on your lap or rest her head on your chest, but always you running your fingers through her scalp.
and almost every single time she drifts to sleep. and then you do, too
JINX
on the complete opposite side, it didn’t take long for you to realize jinx was not opposed to affection at all.
in fact, she was usually the one initiating it! with koala-bear embraces or poking your shoulder or bumping your head with hers, etc etc.
so you didn’t really think too much of it when you played with her hair the first time
you approached her at her work desk with a happy smile, jinx throwing back her head to greet you before going back to whatever it was she was messing with
“what are you working on?”
“hmm.. just some stuff. you knoww.”
before she could go further into detail your hands sifted up and down her braids, twirling the ends around the tips of your fingers
when she felt the slight tugging sensation she paused and lifted her goggles to peer at you.
you were too in your thoughts to notice her giggling.
“having fun there, tink?”
“what was that?”
she raised a brow and looked at her braid laying in your hand which caused you to laugh.
“ah, my bad. it’s a habit of mine.”
she giggles again and goes back to her desk. she’s not like vi where she absolutely adores the feeling, it’s kind of more just a thing that happens every now and then that she goes along with
EKKO
no because how can you resist he’s got the coolest hair ever
i picture him as pretty introverted when it comes to affection, it takes a lot of trust and time to open up to someone seeing how he’s lost a lot in his life
it’d have to be pretty long into the relationship before he ever drops his full guard around you, and when he finally grows accustomed to pda is when you touched his hair for the first time
“hey. they said they’ll be ready to head out in 10.” you called out to him from the doorway.
ekko gave you a brief glance and grunted. “got it. just gotta finish this up.”
you trudged over to where he was sat on his mattress, an open journal and pencil in hand.
“what are you doing?”
“..journaling. writing down thoughts about tomorrow, and the future. it helps clear my head.”
you hummed while sitting on your knees beside him, fingers moving to twist the ends of his dreads.
he chuckled. “what are YOU doing?”
you paused. “ah. it’s a habit, i do it without thinking sometimes.”
he closes his journal and bashfully looks away.
“well, it’s…not a bad habit.”
very sweet about it, and gets super embarrassed about it every time you compliment or care for his hair afterwards
CAITLYN
as we transition to topside, caitlyn i feel has experienced tender affections before
maybe not so much now as an adult, but growing up her mother would style or brush her hair every now and then, and she didn’t realize how much she missed the feeling until you did it to her
her hair was a bit tangled after a day’s work, you noticed, after laying in bed with her for a couple minutes
she was preoccupied with reading a new novel, while you stared at the blue locks framing her face
“how’s your book going?”
she scoffed. “pretty interesting, actually. the knight has just torn up the city searching for his soon-to-be-bride, but the bride’s actually the one who ran away from him in the first place.”
she lightly shook her head. “sometimes these characters are so dramatic, but still entertaining.”
you laughed while raising a finger to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, the tip of your finger lingering in her scalp a bit longer
caitlyn peered at you through the corner of her eye.
“are you staring..?”
you blinked a few times and grinned. “maybe. but it’s also a habit of mine to play with hair, sorry bout that.”
she cleared her throat. “no need to apologize.. it felt nice, actually.”
your grin grew wider as you sat up to play with her hair more properly. as the night stretched on, caitlyn felt herself leaning more and more into your touch.
every now and then, you’ll experience the more tender, soft moments with her like this one, and they always leave the most impact in your heart
VIKTOR
sweet, sweet, man
so touch starved and deprived of love he wants to be held so bad i just know it
of course, the moments he desperately craves breaths of release and relief is when he’s overworked in his lab
dark circles under his eyes, notes scattered on the desk, body aching
one night he didn’t come home at the usual time, hence the reason for you stumbling into his lab unannounced
he was barely awake in his chair, upper body leaning on the desk and eyes starting to close
“i think it’s time for bed, hun.” you calmly spoke while weaving your fingers through his messy hair
he sighed at the feeling while sitting back up. “..you might be right about that.”
you smiled as you stared at his notes, mindlessly reading them all. you didn’t notice the way viktor leaned his weight onto your hands caressing his scalp, eyes closed yet again
your fingers stilled. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize i was still doing that.”
he shook his head.
“no, i enjoy it..feels nice after a day like today.”
it took a while for you to get him to leave the lab following the interaction
viktor refused to fall asleep without you playing with his hair first after that night. even if it’s to relax for just a couple minutes, he comes to you for the relief of stress
A/N: for some reason, every time i typed this request out on my computer it kept deleting, so i wrote this on my phone so hopefully the layout isn’t too weird!! hope you enjoyed :)
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane vi#vi x reader#arcane vi x reader#arcane jinx#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane jinx x reader#ekko#arcane ekko#ekko x reader#arcane ekko x reader#caitlyn kiramman x eader#caitlyn kiramman#arcane caitlyn x reader#arcane caitlyn kiramman#arcane viktor#viktor x reader#arcane viktor x reader#headcanon
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