#and your heart aches and you’re tired and you just feel like you’re right at the center of all this emotional chaos
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I’ve got my eye on you
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You’re really in no shape to be at work. Aaron coaxes you home.
Cw: fem!bau!reader, reader is on her period, newly established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no use of yn
Wc: 1.9k
if you have any Aaron requests, lmk <3
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Your stomach cramps again as you walk out of the elevator. Wincing, you hurry into the bullpen, desperate to sit down and ease the ache in your lower body.
Morgan looks up at you as you dump your things on your desk and sit down with a sigh.
“Twenty minutes late, princess,” he grins. “Late night?”
“Not today, Derek.” You stuff your face in your hands, the pounding in your head intensifying. Your voice is low, strained, nothing like the usual teasing tone you take up with him.
Morgan immediately frowns in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” He leans over the divider between your desks and takes a closer look at you.
“Fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled. You lift your head and give him a weary smile. “Just tired from last night’s case.”
He nods and leaves you alone as you turn on your computer and sigh at the stack of paperwork ahead of you. Looking up out of habit, you smile at the sight of Aaron in his office, his head bent as he works on something.
The two of you had your first date just before this previous case. He got you flowers, specifically ones that wouldn’t trigger your allergies, and when he told you that with a flustered smile you felt yourself fall impossibly deeper. You had kissed him to stop his rambling, threaded your fingers through his as he walked you to his car and opened the door for you. Like a gentleman, you’d thought giddily, your heart bursting at the image of him in your head perfectly meeting reality.
He got you ice cream after dinner, intimately aware of your sweet tooth, and you were left wondering if it was too soon to think about marriage.
It had been a perfect night, one that left you wanting for more of him just like this; funny and relaxed and soft. You’d wanted so badly to push him into your apartment, have him take off your dress and press his lips to your skin. But you forced yourself to say goodbye at the door, his chaste kiss sweet against your lips. You wanted to take it slow, to do it right. He wasn’t going to be a quick fuck for you and you wanted him to know that.
Because you’re in love with him, have been for years. And you’re pretty damn sure he’s in love with you too.
You’re broken from your reverie when you hear Emily approaching, a steaming mug in her hands. You give her a questioning look when she sets down the mug on your desk, the light color of the liquid telling you it’s some kind of herbal tea instead of coffee.
“You’ve got that first day period look about you,” she whispers before you can ask. You smile and pick up the tea, taking a sip and feeling the scalding liquid burn all the way down.
“That bad, huh?” You close your eyes when Emily brushes your hair away from your forehead. Her short nails scratch soothingly against your scalp and you hum, resting your head lightly against her stomach.
“You’re a little pale,” she murmurs. “Did you eat?”
You say nothing and bring the tea to your lips again, avoiding your friend’s gaze.
“Typical,” Emily sighs—quite boldly of her, knowing she’s no different. “Hotch won’t be happy about that,” she teases softly, her lips turning up in a gentle smile. She may or may not have given you and Aaron the final push you both needed.
You shrug as your cheeks tint pink. “I’ll eat in a bit,” you say, in no hurry to do so with the way your stomach churns. “The pain really blocks my appetite.” You scrunch your nose.
Emily hums, all too familiar with the feeling. “I’d tell you to take some meds, but you need to eat for that.” She strokes your hair soothingly, making you lean into her touch.
“I will, Em,” you smile up at her. “When my stomach settles. This is helping by the way, thanks.” You tilt your head to the mug you’re now holding against your stomach, the heat of it seeping through your shirt.
“You’re welcome,” Emily squeezes your shoulder and heads to her own desk.
Sighing, you tip your head back and adjust your grip on the mug in your hands, wishing you had something for your thighs too. And your head. And your lower back.
You give yourself a few seconds before you rub your eyes and sit up straight, trying to start on your report.
The words blur on the page in front of you and you blink, trying to bring them back into focus. You sip your tea, hoping it’ll kick start your brain into writing something, but your head pounds incessantly, jumbling up the words in your head.
The next sip of tea brings a sudden nausea with it, the liquid sloshing around in your empty stomach with nothing else. You set it down with a grimace.
Fucking great.
Morgan and Reid are bickering incessantly behind you, Emily clacks away at her computer and Anderson is talking louder than usual, his voice piercing your head. You blow out a breath and grab your pen, forcing yourself to ignore them and look at your paperwork. You squint at the paper, the bright fluorescent lights of the bullpen like needles in your eyes.
You give up and slump on your desk with a groan, welcoming the darkness and the cool wood against your forehead. You cross your arms tightly over your aching stomach, feeling the frustrating press of tears against your closed eyelids.
Aaron leaves his office in search of coffee and catches sight of you with your head on your desk, your hair shielding your face. Your back shudders as you inhale, the ragged rise and fall of it visible even from a distance.
He hurries down to you and gently touches your shoulder, your name falling softly from his mouth. You tilt your head up to look at him, too tired to lift it from the desk. “Aaron, hey.” You give him a worn out smile.
Your hair falls into your face. Aaron gently brushes it away and notes your crossed arms held tightly against your stomach, your nails digging into your biceps.
“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, eyeing your tired face and the bags under your eyes. “You look pale. Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against your forehead, but your skin is cool.
If the cramps weren’t currently tearing your body to shreds, you might have felt the butterflies at his obvious concern. “I’m not,” you say slowly, wetting your dry lips. “I’ll be fine, my head just hurts a bit.”
A bit is a gross oversimplification, and from the look on Aaron’s face, he knows it too. “Just your head?” He raises his brows, his eyes pointedly drifting down to your stomach.
A strange heat rises to your cheeks. “I’ll be fine, Aaron.” You insist as you lift yourself up against the chair. The light shines directly into your eyes and you wince, pressing your palm against your lids.
“Clearly,” he mutters, looking at your desk and the still empty paperwork and reports you have yet to fill out. “Go home. You can finish this tomorrow.”
“No,” you shake your head adamantly despite the roiling in your stomach. “I’m fine, I just—” You shut your eyes and blow out a shaky breath when you feel a sudden cramp in your abdomen, “I just need a minute.” You rasp.
Aaron eyes your dull skin and the way you tightly grip your seat, your knuckles sharp as you take in ragged breaths. He sighs and crouches down in front of you, the gentle way he says your name forcing your eyes open.
“Please. Go home or I’ll drive you myself.” His brown eyes are soft with concern, his brows furrowed and lips tipped downward.
You want to shake your head, but a sharp pain in your stomach almost makes you gasp. You bite your lip and look down at your watch. “It’s only 11.” You protest weakly.
Aaron shakes his head at your stubbornness, your pain clear in the way your face twists. “You’re in pain, sweetheart,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying it. Your eyes widen slightly at the nickname, but he continues, undeterred.
“Please. Go home, take care of yourself. You can be here first thing tomorrow, I promise, but you’re not well now.” He’s using the same soft, soothing tone he uses whenever Jack is sick and refusing his medication, and it seems to have the same effect on you.
You wilt against the seat and nod. “Okay,” you finally relent, the relief obvious in your voice.
Aaron smiles slightly, dimples poking out in victory as he stands up. You don’t even have to pack anything, your purse still closed on your desk. You pocket your phone and stand, your hand reaching for Aaron’s elbow when you stumble slightly.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Shh, you’re okay,” he steadies you with a hand on your back. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
You don’t protest and allow him to walk you to the elevator. A part of you is surprised that he’s showing this side of him at work, uncaring of the team’s piercing gazes that you can feel following you all the way out of the bullpen.
You lean into his side a little when you’re out of sight, the warmth of his hand on your back seeping into your skin as you wait for the elevator.
You’re almost disappointed when it dings.
The doors open and you walk in with a quiet sigh. Aaron walks in with you too, ignoring your surprised look. You open your mouth to protest, but he speaks first.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay driving? I can take you,” he offers.
You smile. The thought does sound nice. But you shake your head, despite your aching body and the long drive ahead of you. And the crushing need to let him take care of you. “I’ll be fine.” You force yourself to say. “Thank you, though.”
Aaron nods. “Drive safe.” He smiles at you gently. “Text me when you get home.”
“I will.” Your fingers magically find their way into his hair. You push the soft strands away from his forehead, biting back a smile when he involuntarily leans into your touch.
His hand finds the curve of your waist. “Maybe I can come by later?” He whispers.
You feel your body grow warm, a comforting glow that he always brings out in you. You smile, momentarily distracted from the pain in your body.
“I’d like that. But I won’t be much fun,” you gesture to yourself with a shrug. The elevator stops and the doors slide open into the parking lot.
“That’s just nonsense,” Aaron tilts your face down to kiss your forehead, his palms warm on your cheeks. “Be careful, honey.”
“I will.” You stamp a quick kiss on his lips, your cheeks warm, and head to your car. Aaron holds the elevator doors open and waits until you get in before heading again to the sixth floor.
He walks back into the bullpen, past his team gathered at Emily’s desk, including Garcia. They smirk at him and he glares back.
“Not a word.”
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#soft aaron hotchner
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— tighnari x reader
“Would you stay, if I asked? If I told you I didn’t want you to go?”
The soil beneath you is cool to the touch as you flex your hand against the earth, blades of grass tickling your fingertips. There’s foolish hope unraveling in your chest and a traitorous warmth seeping into your veins.
c: fluff, pining
“So, good news. I’ll think I’ll finally be out of your hair soon.”
Despite the twinge in your heart as you say the words, you force a smile onto your face, quickly stealing a glance over at the Forest Watcher sitting beside you.
There’s an audible crunch of leaves atop grass as Tighnari’s tail twitches once, the only sign of a reaction against his otherwise neutral gaze and still posture as he evenly replies, “Oh?”
It’s better this way.
“I talked to Cyno yesterday before he left, and he said he’d be happy to introduce me to some of the locals out near Aaru Village and find me a place to stay.”
You’d stumbled into the Avidya Forest some months ago. Quite literally—you were in the middle of scowling down at the torn, waterlogged map clasped in your hands when you tripped over a log and right into the startled yet steady arms of the Chief Officer of the Forest Watchers.
Tighnari had welcomed you to Gandharva Ville without question, initially to help you take care of an allergic reaction to a plant. It was meant to be just another stop in your endless travels; you never did stay put in any one place for very long.
(Nowhere ever felt like home.)
But days had turned into weeks, and soon you fell into a routine as you began to learn the ways of Sumeru’s flora and fauna, finding a newfound sense of contentment deep beneath the swaying canopies of Sumeru’s lush rainforest.
A newfound sense of contentment at Tighnari’s side as his presence began to slowly seep into all the empty corners of your heart, stabilizing that persistent, restless thing that’s always kept miles and miles beneath your tired feet.
It’s why you’re leaving now—the reality of the ache that will unravel as you continue to pine over the Forest Watcher more than you’re willing to bear. All things heal with time, as will the pangs of the unrequited longing lodged in your heart when you trade lush greens for the vast, sprawling sands of the desert.
“Would you stay?” Tighnari’s voice interrupts your thoughts.
“What?”
He sighs softly, picking up the remains of a trampled Sumeru rose and running a gloved finger over its delicate petals. When his eyes meet yours again, there’s an odd look on his face. “Would you stay, if I asked? If I told you I didn’t want you to go?”
The soil beneath you is cool to the touch as you flex your hand against the earth, blades of grass tickling your fingertips. There’s foolish hope unraveling in your chest and a traitorous warmth seeping into your veins.
“Because I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d gotten, not until you arrived,” he continues.
Because you’re friends. Of course you’re friends.
“What about Collei? And Cyno?” you ask carefully, forcing a weak smile.
Tighnari laughs quietly under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he glances up at the clouds slowly drifting across the darkening skies overhead, the impending sunset casting him in shades of pink and orange.
Fireflies begin to wink to life, dotting the expanse of the hillside.
“Well,” he muses, “I don’t find myself distracted day in and day out at the thought of sharing a bed with either of them.”
Oh.
You begin to wonder if you’ve stumbled into one of the groves of hallucinogenic plants that Tighnari warned you about.
Your breath catches in your throat.
“I don’t expect you to return the sentiment, so please don’t feel obligated to respond to that. I just felt it would be dishonest to see you off without sharing the true nature of my feelings.”
Blood rushes in your ears, your lips parting as your mind reels to catch up, and he quietly mutters before you can respond, “Though I would prefer to remain ignorant if you find yourself drawn to the affections of the General, I hope you can at least spare me that.”
A crazed laugh nearly bubbles up in your chest at the thought, the mere idea that Tighnari believes you’re interested in his fair-haired friend. That you’re not hopelessly, ridiculously gone on him.
He has no idea how many nights you’ve spent curled up on the bed in his hut, desire and longing weighing heavy on your chest as you breathe in the scent of him that clings to the sheets—lavender and sage. All while he sleeps just feet away on the cot he insisted he be the one to take, clueless to just how badly you want to feel the mattress dip under his weight.
Leaning toward him, you wrap one of the black strings of Tighnari’s hooded top around your fingers, giving it a gentle tug. “Ask me.”
The green of his eyes looks so, so bright, even as the rest of the forest fades into twilight.
“Stay with me,” he exhales softly, his body following when you pull him forward atop you as you lay back in the grass, hands resting on the ground on either side of your face, tail brushing along your ankles.
You tilt your chin, mouth curving upward. “Kiss me, Tighnari.”
His lips taste like honey and sunshine, like the first blossom in the spring.
Like a warm summer breeze.
Like you’re finally home.
#tighnari#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#tighnari genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#dee writes
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Day 11- long distance- Swiss and aether
Thanks to @forlorn-crows as always 🫶
Tensions rise on tour, Swiss calls aether to try and make it better.
“Hello?”
Aether answered the phone in a groggy tone. Swiss cringed at the sleepiness in his voice, rough as if he had just woken up. The time difference tended to escape him whenever he missed aether and sunny and picked up the phone to contact them, but neither minded. They were always happy to hear his voice.
“Aether? Did I wake you?” Swiss practically whispered. It was an unconscious attempt to not overwhelm him if he had actually woken him up, hoping the gentle tone could coax him out of being tired.
“Don’t worry about it, what’s up?”
Aether could hear the anxiety in Swiss’ voice. He could picture him picking at his nails and fiddling with whatever blanket was on his lap. He had always been a nervous fidgeter, one of his main tells that something was wrong.
“Well nothings wrong per say- it’s not an emergency but-“
“Swiss, tell me” aether cut him off
“How do you do it? How do you make every situation better?” There was a solemn air to the question. Aether knew Swiss well. Aether knew that something had happened and Swiss wasn’t handling it well. The pack could tend to be a lot sometimes, they all loved each other but conflict could sometimes be hard to tackle. Rain tended to retreat instead of handling issues, dew tended to blow up without thinking before he acted, cumulus got overwhelmed easily, and cirrus usually shut down, equipped with sharp sour words to ward off others.
It was always aether and mountain who would have to handle things if they got out of hand, a calming presence to drag everyone back and figure out a solution. Swiss could do this, but as much as he seemed like a more forceful figure, he was a people pleaser at heart. A pushover in the worst cases.
“Did something happen?”
Aether assumed there would be mild problems now that he and Sunny had been replaced with phantom and Aurora. Both were sweet ghouls, a little rowdy, but knew what they were doing. There hadn’t been any changes in a long time, not since ifrit and zephyr retired.
Dew had always taken it the hardest, the transition and ifrit stepping down made dew practically shut down inside. Quiet and harsh with his words for the first leg of that tour. He had processed and gotten better after a while, especially with aethers help.
But now that aether wasn’t there, there was question on how he would handle having phantom around in replace of him.
“Not exactly, it’s just been …… tense, to say the least” Swiss sighed, “nothing feels right. No one seems like themselves.”
“It’ll get better, everyone just needs time”
“No, I know, but I feel like I should be able to do something. If you were here you probably would have by now.”
Aether sighs, an ache in his heart for how hopeless Swiss sounds. There’s no solution, there’s always some kind of tension on tour. Living in a bus with even those you love the most will create problems after a while.
“It’s not your fault stardust”
“Well no, but mountain can usually have everyone happy again with a bit of time, but it shouldn’t be solely his responsibility”
“The fact that you care so much is all you need to do, you can only be you, you can’t be me. And we love you for you only”
“I know, I just-“
“I’m proud of you. You’re doing fantastic. They don’t need another aether, they need you right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you know how often I miss you guys and I look at your smile in photos and it makes me feel better?”
“You do?”
“You’re doing the best you can. You’re our stardust, remember? It’ll be ok”
“I love you aeth”
“Love you swiss”
#@ghuleh-recs for divider!#do you guys know how important Swiss and aether are to me#is it obvious#mushy may#don’t read too much into how much I project onto Swiss#it’s fine#don’t worry#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#ghost bc#fanfic#wrath writes#swiss ghoul#aether ghoul#mushy may 2024
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Catch Me When I Fall
Chuuya Nakahara x Reader
fandom: bungo stray dogs
Star is tired. Star is worn out. Star desperately wants Chuuya to hug her and kiss her until she can't think straight. Star presents an extremely messy and personal fic to you. Star hopes you enjoy ❤️
warnings: fem reader (female pronouns used), job rejection letters, crying, insecurities, may be a bit choppy because I haven't written anything in a while (also it's very late and I'm sleepy) || words: 1.5k
The letter sits there in your hands, only a few short sentences long, but enough to make your heart shatter and your throat close up.
After careful consideration…pursue other candidates…appreciate your time and effort…best of luck with future endeavors…
You’ve read it three times so far, and each time sends another pang straight to your chest. The edges of the paper are soggy with sweat, smudging the fresh ink on the surface. Something warm and wet slides down your cheek, splashing onto the bottom corner. Then another, and another, and soon you’re full-on sobbing right there at the kitchen table.
It’s useless, you’re useless. Why are you so fucking useless?
You almost don’t hear the door unlock, and when you hear Chuuya call out your name, you stuff the paper in your pocket and jump up from your seat.
Wipe your eyes, force it down. Busy your hands with something else.
Take your mind off everything with anything.
“Where are you, doll?”
You swallow hard and turn to the dirty dishes in the sink—yeah, that’ll work. First time in your life you’re actually looking forward to doing house chores.
“There you are.”
A fresh surge of tears runs down your cheeks at Chuuya’s voice, even more so when he comes in close and wraps his arms around your waist from behind. You grit your teeth and smile, praying to every god and goddess above that he won’t notice the heat in your cheeks or the sniffle in your nose.
“How was your day?” Always such a gentleman, asking you before you can even think about asking the same of him. “Not too boring all alone, I hope?”
You shake your head and grab another dish. But it’s hard to see the stains when your sight’s starting to blur again.
“’S fine,” you mumble with a shrug, “how about you?”
Suddenly his body goes stiff against yours, his arms coil tighter around your body, and all you can think of is oh fuck, fuck, fuck, you already fucked up didn’t you—
“You feeling alright, doll?” His voice is soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. But the gentle touch of his hands only worsens the ache in your chest. “What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong, indeed? Nothing’s wrong, you’re just overreacting. Just like you always do. Not a big deal.
You’ll get over it anyway.
“I’m fine,” you repeat, and damn it you’re running out of dishes to focus on, “it’s nothing—”
“It’s not nothing if it’s makin’ you upset, sweetheart.”
Fuck it, here we go.
A sob wracks through your body, so hard you nearly drop the clean plate back into the soapy water. But Chuuya is quick to swipe it out of your grasp and place it on the drying rack, before shutting off the water altogether. All the while you’re crying in his arms, your soaked hands still gripping the edge of the sink.
“C’mon baby, talk to me,” he whispers against your temple. He gathers you in his arms, not even caring about the water reaching up to your elbows, gently turning you to face him. “What is it? You gotta tell me, I can’t help you if you don’t—”
Your knees are practically jelly, it’s a miracle you don’t tumble to the floor and take Chuuya with you. But he’s too strong for his own good, holding you up with one hand and tracing over your cheek with his other. Wait a minute, when did he take off his gloves?
“Baby, please,” he says one more time, cradling your face in his hands, and even through your tears you can still make out those brilliant blue eyes of his. “Did something happen earlier? Was it something I did? You gotta tell me…”
Your heart clenches at his words; how could he ever think it was something he did? He’s not the one to blame here, not when he’s been nothing but supportive of you ever since you met.
But your tongue just won’t move, the words won’t come out no matter how hard you try, so all you can do is shake your head no. His shoulders sag just a bit at that, but he never loosens his grip on you.
“Alright then… Can you tell me what hurts? Or show me, at least?”
Show him, show him… That’s right, the culprit’s right here in your pocket. It takes a moment to fish it out with how hard your fingers are trembling, and once you do Chuuya’s eyes are scanning it hungrily.
He looks more and more ready to tear the fucking thing in two with every word he reads. But then he meets your teary gaze and drops it to the floor instead. Curling his arms around you once more, guiding you to sit on the floor alongside him so he can tuck your head beneath his chin.
Another one to add to the collection. Watch them pile up on each other, a constant reminder of how fucking useless you are.
“I’m sorry, baby. You’re too good for them anyway, y’know that, right?”
It doesn’t make it hurt any less. But at least he’s trying, holding you tight and pressing a line of kisses across your forehead. Being wrapped up in his arms always helps you feel a bit better.
“I just—”
Fuck, your voice sounds rough. Your throat hurts, your nose is clogged, and you can feel a massive headache coming on. You bury your face into his chest and try again, clutching the back of his shirt as tight as you can.
“…I’m just so sick of it, y’know? How many does that make so far? Five total?” Maybe you’ve lost count at this point.
“Sweetheart—”
No, stop it. The sincerity in his voice only makes you cry harder. He’s always so helpful and supportive, isn’t he? More often than not you wonder if you even truly deserve him.
Rejection. Condolences. Hope crushed to pieces. Then the cycle repeats, just when you think you can handle it.
No matter how much you prepare yourself for the worst outcome, it still stings like hell when you meet it face-to-face.
“You’ll find it, I promise.” Chuuya threads his fingers through your hair as gently as he can. “It’ll take a few tries, but I promise you’ll find it.”
You don’t know how many more tries you have in you at this point.
It’s always a running joke between the two of you, of Chuuya constantly offering to take care of you for the rest of your life with his own money. And you’re always tempted by the offer, especially after a difficult day’s work at your current job. But you never want to be a burden on him; he already does so much for you, it’s not fair to ask anymore of him when you can’t do the same.
“I just…want something a little bit better, you know?”
“I know you do, doll. And you’ll find it, I swear you will. You just have to get through all this shit first…and you’ll find it right there in front of you.”
The tears have slowed, but your head is still pounding with something awful. You raise your head to meet his eyes, heart melting at the sight of his gentle smile and pretty blue eyes. He drags his thumb over your pouty lips, over your chin and up to the apple of your cheek.
“We can talk more about it later, if you feel up to it. Right now, how about you pick out a movie and we’ll order take out later? Sound like a plan, doll?”
More than perfect, but you’re too worn out to put it in words. So you nod instead and let him help you back up to your feet. You reach for the box of tissues on the counter, but Chuuya’s already grabbing it and holding it out to you with a lopsided grin. He really is too good for you, huh?
Not that you’ll ever say that to his face; you’re not in the mood to get scolded by him again.
“C’mon, we both had a pretty rough day, and all I wanna do is curl up with my favorite girl and make her smile again.” He takes your face in his hands again, brushing away the last of your tears with his thumbs. “Where’s that pretty smile, huh? Don’t hide it from me—ah, there it is.”
It’s hard not to smile whenever you’re near your boyfriend. Maybe that’s his real special ability, putting you at ease no matter what kind of day you’ve had. He’s always there to pick you up, no matter how many times you fall or trip over yourself. No matter how many bumps in the road you have to crawl over. No matter how far you have to jump.
He’s always there to catch you, every single time.
“…Chuuya?” He turns just in time for you to collide with his chest, as your arms link around his shoulders as tight as they can. “Thank you… I love you so much, you know that?” Too much to put into words.
He’s quiet at first—but then you feel the familiar comforting hand at the small of your back, his warmth bleeding through the fabric of your shirt. You can feel him smile against your temple before pressing a kiss to your tear-stained cheek.
“Yeah, I know. Love ya too, doll.”
#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya x you#chuuya x y/n#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#bsd x reader#bsd fics
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##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife
y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint
part ii
synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)
beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!
he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.
through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.
after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question
there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel
you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.
since then, vox has been searching for you:
“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”
“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.
but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.
to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel
picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips
you used to smile at him just like that
in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!
from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.
“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.
you never answered to his pleas.
“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.
you turned to face away.
“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.
a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.
vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.
#ᥫ᭡.#yandere!vox#vox x reader#vox x yn#vox x you#vox imagine#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader if you squint
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sugu breaking your fever 〜（ゝ。∂）
“how d’ya feel pretty?”
“still feel like shit.”
you whine into his chest, the warm compress that once laid on your tummy is held in place by the man.
“y’know.. i heard that orgasms break fevers.”
“what? can’t be, s-stop it.”
“mm what’s the harm in trying?”
“c-cus i’m sick sugu! don’t wanna get you sick too. s-s okay, i’ll get better so—“ your quieted by a cough, followed by the man pressing the glass of water towards your lips.
“doesn’t seem likely pretty. c’mon, let me finger you at least, hm?”
“y-you’re so weird, sugu.”
“that means yes, right?” he slithers atop of you, looking down with a sly grin that you can’t help but flush at. he presses kisses to your hot skin, whining when he nips at your sensitive neck.
“s-sugu, ‘s hot.”
“hmm.. air conditionings on gorgeous..” he teases.
he lifts your shirt, releasing your tits, giving them a light grope. you whine at the sensation of his cold hand pressing against your hot flesh, a slight buck in your hips that yearns for more.
“don’t rush, pretty. we have all day.”
he leans in between your thighs, slim fingers that come to toy with the band of your panties. he presses a harsh kiss to your sticky clit, twitching from the attention.
“needy girl.” he snickers, whistling when he pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. he watches your feverent cunt pulse with need, cute clit swollen and aching for more.
“s-sugu, stop staring.!”
in a short attempt to close your thighs, to prove some decency to the perverted man, you’re met with a gentle slap to your inner thigh. you mewl, anticipating more as he drags a gentle finger through your slit.
“mm, say you want it. tell me ya want my fingers inside, honey.”
“s-sugu don’t tease please.. y-you were the one that said you wanted to give it t’me..”
“mhm, know what i said. now tell me, you want it right?”
you huff, but at last you fall into the man’s trap, “yes s-suguru, wan’ it. want you inside, y-your fingers, please.”
“mm, good girl.” he hums against your thigh, a singular digit slipping into your moist cunt.
“s-sugu..!” you moan with surprise.
“see? if you’re good, ya get what you want, right?”
“y-yes..!”
“now take it gorgeous.” he slips another finger along side his first, curling himself against your sweet gummy walls. you flinch at the sensation, every moment he’s inside of you pushes you towards your high.
he comes up to face your ecstatic expression, smothering your hot skin with gentle but sloppy kisses. you flinch at the sensation, body sensitive due to your cold. it’s all so intense, better, even.
“suguru, p-please..!”
“mhm, patient sweet girl.”
“need t’cum, pleasepleaseplease.. daddy..”
“oh? how dirty, baby. thought you were feeling sick. y’asking for more now?” he chuckles.
“mfgh, d-daddy please.. gonna cum..!”
“yeah? want daddy t’make you cum?”
“yesyes, please..!”
and you do, back arching from the intense sensation, your boyfriends fingers covered in a heavy slick; a sight he’s definitely not new to.
“there you go baby. good girl, such a good girl.”
he pulls himself out gently, wrapping his lips around his own digits, sucking your cum off his fingers. the entire time he stares into you, a teasing smirk spread across his expression.
“stop doin’ that sugu.! ‘s gross!” you whine, flustered from the eye contact he forcefully holds.
“taste so sweet baby.” he teases once again.
he unlatches himself with a ‘pop!’ bending over you to press a heavy kiss onto your lips. he can’t help but laugh when you moan into his mouth, overwhelmed.
“sugu.. tired..”
he presses another kiss onto the soft of your cheek, leaving your side to clean you up for bed.
upon cleaning you up, his heart softens at your sleepy expression and soft snores, pressing a final kiss onto your forehead before slipping besides you.
bonus . . ♡
the morning after is so much better. the sunlight beams through the curtains , the blankets laid on top of you two is just warm enough. doubt him all you want , but turns out his dumb little factoid proves to be true !
but of course he didn’t listen , and now he’s caught your cold.. whining and tugging at your sleeve for you to take care of him , to ride his pain away and make him orgasm so that his fever breaks too.
“y’have to return the favor princess.”
“no, you perv!”
“please, you owe me baby.”
#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#suguru x you#geto suguru smut#suguru smut#getou suguru#getou x reader#jjk getou#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#jjk geto
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.
about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.
“you could kill me if you wanted to.”
it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “
“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.
“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”
“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.
you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”
“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”
satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.
his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.
in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.
he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”
there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.
“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”
“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”
“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.
“i need you.”
“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”
“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.
usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.
those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.
“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”
but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”
your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo angst#gojo x yn#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#idk im sad and i love him#self indulgent slay#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted#angelshubnetwork
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”why are you so good at that?”
his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin.
suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away.
and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh.
”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”
he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh, senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood. comfy.
and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.
he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you.
a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does, of course — so weak to you, always, your voice the key to his locked-up heart.
”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing the facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.”
a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless.
”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”
it’s not the first you’ve heard of this best friend. suguru’s mentioned him before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do — because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer.
(that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good; it is practiced. should you feel jealous?
well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.)
before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.
”you must have loved him a lot.”
…
silence.
for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt — just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room.
even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen.
it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.
a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.
you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid.
stupid, stupid, stupid.
(why can’t you ever just read the room?)
blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.
— but then suguru breaks it.
”yeah.”
when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.
”i suppose i did.”
…
you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.
just longing.
suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.
and then he’s looking at you.
”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”
before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.
”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”
all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.
the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.
somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.
”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”
he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.
”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”
the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.
he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.
#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk fluff#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic
Simon Riley/female reader
Amends, Simon learns, are harder to make than he thought.
At first, he tries to catch you in the hallway, or in the lobby of the building. It’s started to get cold, and you’re not out on your balcony much, so he resorts to sulking around like building like a ghost, miserable and downright creepy, waiting. Watching.
He begins to memorize your routine. It's not intentional, just a hazard of his profession, but he can't help but work everything you do into a schedule that looms at the back of his mind. What time Emma wakes up, what time you usually take her somewhere with you on your lunch, what time the sound of your dryer buzzes to signal it's cycle complete, what time you turn the TV off and the lights go out for bed. Knowing your schedule so well relaxes him, makes him feel reassured, and he waits for every part of it with bated breath, ensuring you're home and safe with each mental check in.
He tries to sync with you, run into you in the hall or outside the building somewhere, but you're elusive, and at night, before he falls asleep, he resorts to daydreaming about a future where he didn't screw everything up, and you already lived with him. Where you shared a bed with him, where Emmaline slept in her room down the hall. Where he has his girls under one roof with him, his roof, safe and tucked away from the rest of world. He can't fall asleep without it now, this daydream, and sometimes, if he's lucky, it stays, gracing his subconscious with beautiful false memories, the kind that linger a little, in the morning when he opens his eyes.
Still, he can't have any of it, dreams or reality, without making amends.
His first real try, after the initial failure, is when he manages to catch you in the lobby. It's right before your lunch is usually over, and he strategically positions himself to enter the building around the same time as you would. Emmaline is in your arms, and when she catches sight of him, she squeaks, swinging a chubby little fist in his direction. You look over your shoulder at whatever has caught her eye, and when you see him, your face twists, smile shifting into something full of apprehension and worry.
“Hi.” You say, when he gets close, inching towards you like you might run off. Emmaline coos, arms stretched out towards his body, and he lets his hand drift, pointer finger finding the grasp of all five hers, wrapped around him.
“Hey.” I miss you, he’s desperate to say, I’m so sorry. But nothing comes out, and something sad stretches across your face when Emma smiles so big at him.
His phone rings, loudly. Johnny. When he looks back up from the screen, you’re gone.
The next time he tries, is in the supermarket.
You’re pushing Emmaline in the buggy, leaning forward to talk to her in the soft little baby voice that you make, and he stops himself at the end of the aisle, just out of sight. You look exhausted, eyes tired, moving slowly, and his heart aches.
“What about some yogurt?” She bobs in the stroller, and you smile. “Yeah! Yogurt! It’s good huh?” You're not paying attention at all, not cognizant of your surroundings, or his proximity to you. If he was someone else, someone who wanted to hurt you, take you... it'd be a non issue. The back door less than ten meters from where your back is turned, someone could have you incapacitated and vanished before you even knew what was happening. His stomach flips uncomfortably just imagining it, anxiety tossing his breakfast around, everything in him screaming at him to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again.
You turn the corner to his position, still focused on the baby, half paying attention to where you're walking. You manage to glance up once, right before you nearly run into him, and you jerk backwards in confusion, surprise. "Hey."
"Hey, sorry. I uh... wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
"That's alright." He scrounges around in his empty fucking head for something else to say, before landing on: "How are you?"
"Oh, good. Alright, yeah. We're... we're alright."
"That's good." There's a beat of awkward silence, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine." Just do it, he screams at himself. Just say it. "I've been thinkin' about you." Your eyebrows raise.
"You have?" What? Of course I have, sweetheart. You're all I ever think about now.
"Yeah. A lot, actually." He says softly, like you're not standing in the middle of a grocery store, in between the hustle and bustle of everyone else. "I ah... I know this really isn't the place but I wanted to talk to you. It's... I have something I need to tell you. Are you... free tonight? Can I make you dinner?" He practically rushes it out, like water from a spigot, flooding free, too fast and without aim. It's a cautious request, more of a hopeful thing than anything else, and when you take so, so long to respond, he prepares himself for the disappointment.
"Okay." You whisper, with a nod. "Yes. We... we're around tonight."
#light on#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader
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“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”
the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.
it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.
“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.
he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.
regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.
nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”
your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.
you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.
his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.
“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”
he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.
nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.
“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”
his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.
you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.
“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”
“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.
you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.
you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”
“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.
you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.
he was fine.
you were fine,
everything was fine.
. . is what you kept telling yourself.
nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.
he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”
but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.
#★vegasbaby.#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk fic#jjk drabbles
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hiiii so i might’ve been stalking your blog for the entire 3 hour car ride :33
can i pretty please request more aftercare fluff w/lucifer? i looove the way your write him!🫶🏻
have a good day/night‼️‼️
a/n — I meant to do this SO much earlier! Anyways i’m super sleepy right now and lowkey just want to write fluff so here’s this!
“Luci, you did so good. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” you coo down at Lucifer as he came down from his high.
It had been a particularly intense night, sex-wise, and it showed on the poor man’s face. He looked terribly spent and drenched in sweat.
His body was littered with love bites and bruises from you, adding to the pathetic image of him sprawled out on bed.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, “Aw, sweetie, did I go to hard on you?” You massage his cheek with your thumb, he leans into you.
“No it was— god, it was amazing. You were amazing,” He gazed up at you adoringly, “You are amazing.”
He looked at you with large doe eyes, “Can I help clean up, or anything?” He almost pleaded, desperate to help you.
Warm feelings of affection flooded your chest, “Lucifer,” you draw out, “Baby, you’ve already done so much for me. Give yourself a break, you look beat.”
Contrary to your point, Lucifer felt like he hadn’t done enough for you tonight. He almost felt guilty for receiving your love, especially if he didn’t think he reciprocated enough.
“Angel, please, I wanna help.” His eyes fell on you once again, gazing at you as if you put the stars in the sky.
He looked like a lost puppy, waiting for your command. You took pity on him.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the sweetest, prettiest boy ever?” You spoke, words laced with sugar as you leaned down to plant kisses all over his cheeks.
He giggled dumbly, once again looking up at you and waiting for instructions on how to help.
“How about—“ you think, there wasn’t much you wanted him to do, especially in his state “—how about you sit here and look pretty while I run a bath?”
“My dear.” He warned, drawing out his words in a kinda of whine.
He didn’t look happy with this answer. As much as you wanted him to take it easy, he desperately wanted to help you clean up.
“Alright, I’ll go run a bath and you freshen up the area, how’s that sound?” you inquire, earning a much more approving expression.
With extra effort, you carefully helped him and yourself off the bed, planting a kiss on his forehead.
He was obviously in pain as he left to go get a washcloth and fresh sheets, but as he was so determined to be of service to you, you let it slide.
You ran the bathtub water to a good temperature and lit some candles around it. When the tub looked, smelled, and felt appealing enough, you called out for Lucifer.
“How’s it going it there, babe? ‘Tubs ready,” you dip your toe in the water before sinking in fully.
“Be there in a moment, my love,” He called back, voice half-gone and groggy.
When he finally shows up in the room, he looks absolutely exhausted. Although objectively cleaner, he looks miles more disheveled than he did before tidying up.
Once again, your heart fills with love towards the man. He was already tired, and still put forth effort to clean up, just so you had to do less work.
“Come here, sweetheart,” you coo at him, opening your arms and welcoming him in the bathtub.
All but reluctantly, he slinks towards you and practically falls into the water. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close to your chest.
He sighs and rests his head on you, happily curling up into you in the warm water.
“Hm, what candles did you light?” he asks quietly.
“I think something vanilla-y. You like it?”
“The vanilla ones are my favorite. I think this is vanilla bean,” He hums softly into your chest. You rub his back your hand and use the other one to fish over the side off he bathtub.
There, you pulled out three oddly specific rubber ducks; a yodeler duck, a chef duck, and a duck that actually blows bubbles out of his snout. These three were Lucifer’s favorite.
He gave a small gasp when you pulled them out and set them into the water. You could see him regaining a little energy.
“You know, the yodeler one has an interesting back story,” he practically gloated, pulling the ducks close to his chest.
“Oh?” you question, “Well, please share, then. Don’t leave me on the edge of my seat.” You pull him closer to your chest as he holds the yodeling duck up in the air.
“Well, I actually got the materials in a different layer of hell. The craft supplies was good but the food was terrible there,” he rambled on lazily.
Increasingly drowsily, he explains its back story and how he got to work and little details like that. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder to see if you were still listening, or even cared.
To his surprise, you always were. He subconsciously snuggled further into you. Sleep crept into his words every time he spoke until it was undeniably time to get out.
You were exhausted yourself. You lazily got out of the bathtub and dried off, Lucifer following soon after.
As to both get comfortable in bed, you rest your head on his shoulder and realize he had brought the ducks with him.
“Can I— can I keep explaining?” He asked timidly, yawning afterwards.
You pull him close and wrap your arms around his stomach, “For as long as you’re awake, sweetie.”
He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was passed out. Just as suspected, in few short minutes of Lucifer’s rambling, you were both sound asleep.
a/n — okay I HAVE to get some Vox content out after this because I have been lacking so much. There are lots of requests so expect more of him soon.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel fluff#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader
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Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.
“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”
She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”
“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”
“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.
“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”
“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”
Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”
“He feels bad.”
“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”
Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”
She cocks a brow. “Okay?”
“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”
“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”
“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”
She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”
“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“
“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.
“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”
He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”
“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”
“Does it ever just feel like that?”
“…no.”
Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”
She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”
She shrugs.
Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”
“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”
“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”
She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”
Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”
“You really think he will?”
“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”
She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”
Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”
“But the Lieutenant—”
“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod imagines#cod imagine#cod#call of duty imagines#call of duty imagine#call of duty#price#captain price#john soap mactavish#soap#kyle gaz garrick#gaz
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making up with them after a fight ♡
author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?
warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything
this is a continuation to fighting with them!!
┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.
suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?
jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.
however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.
“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.
“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.
“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”
“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.
“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”
“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”
“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.
“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.
and minho hated this.
he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.
so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?
"y/nnie… i’m sorry"
you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.
"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”
he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.
"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"
"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.
"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.
"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.
silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.
"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.
"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.
"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"
"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer.
you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.
he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.
"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.
"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.
"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.
then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.
"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"
"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.
"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.
"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.
"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.
"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"
jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.
"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"
jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.
"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"
"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.
"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.
"you were what?"
jisung rolled his eyes playfully.
"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.
"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.
"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.
"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.
"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"
finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.
"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"
you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.
"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.
felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.
"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.
he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.
"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"
"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.
"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"
"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.
"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"
that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.
"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.
"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.
in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.
"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.
"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.
"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.
"okay…" you hummed.
hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
#skz#skz fluff#stray kids#stray kids fluff#skz stay#skz imagines#skz changbin#skz fanfic#skz felix#skz hyunjin#skz scenarios#skz bang chan#skz jeongin#jisung skz#skz minho#seungmin skz#skz reactions#skz x stay#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz drabbles#skz soft hours#skz angst#skz seungmin#stray kids scenarios
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𝝑𝝔 an: it’s been a looong time and i wanted to start from 0 so hey everyone!! enjoy this, and don’t forget to reblog if you do!
when nanami opens his eyes it takes a few seconds for him to properly understand where is he located, the sleepy haze still trying to tug him back into closing his heavy lids.
he blinks rapidly, recognising the neutral ceiling of his living room, the setting sun’s rays scattered around the room through the curtain covered windows and the soft cushions of the couch under his body. he also remembers how he was so tired that even changing out of his clothes was out of question as he just plopped down onto the first horizontal surface he found available, the thought of dozing off too inviting to ignore.
kento groans lightly, feeling his sore limbs ache as he tries to move them, but the sound is stuck in his throat when he turns his head to find you right by his side.
breath fanning lightly of the side of his face, your cheek smushed against the side of the pillow and your forearms as you kneel on the floor beside the couch, sleeping peacefully like you always do in his presence. he feels guilty when he imagines you coming back home to find him like this as you’re still in your work clothes, and the pain in your neck and back, from sitting like that for so long.
he sits up on the couch as quietly as he can, face cringing at the cracking of his joints. nanami’s eyes focus on your once again as he lets his touch startle you, fingers gliding over your hairline and eyebrows, the slope of your nose, your pouting lips and your relaxed jaw. expression so calm and etheral he almost feels jealous at how comfortable you look sleeping on the floor in a slumped sitting position.
you stir and bury your face in your forearms before inhaling rapidly and lifting your head.
the sleepy smile that stretches over your lips spreads warmth through his ribcage, his heart feeling it particularly well.
kento crouches down by your side, hand now cupping your cheek affectionately, “what are you doing here, my darling?”
“just wanted to sleep with you, ‘nami,” you mutter, barely understandable but nanami always knows what you mean, as you nuzzle deeper into his palm, clearly half asleep and ready to switch off again.
“‘should have woken me up, you know i’d never say no to a nap with you.”
you shuffle closer to him, raising your hands as a sign for him to hug you, but nanami opts on grabbing you under your shoulders and knees and lifting you up. as he hugs you to his chest, nanami feels flowers blooming inside everywhere you touch him, where your hands rest on him.
so sweet, so considerate, so lovely you are, making him smile just by existing by his side and being so good to him. he changes you out of clothes and does the same for himself, leaving the other things from your routine for later to not let the sleepiness get away.
and nanami holds you a bit tighter that evening, the corners of his lips upturned at all times when he’s with you.
#— miya writes!#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk nanami
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call me back
fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k
. . . fighting with you is never easy for hoshi. especially not when an ocean is separating you
was fighting over the last piece of cake stupid and immature? yes. did it feel like hoshi’s whole world was about to collapse when he noticed you ate it? double yes. while your boyfriend wasn’t known for his great patience and non-existent anger issues, he never took his anger out on you, no matter how frustrated and annoyed he was.
well - until last week.
hoshi came home tired and very, very hungry, nothing out of the ordinary, though you could clearly see he was a lot more agitated than usual, so you did what you always did when he came back exhausted like that - gave him space. you were just about to start your nighttime routine when you heard your name being yelled from the kitchen, and not in a happy “baby, my love, my darling, please come hereeee” kind of way.
you didn’t even get a chance to take a breath as you entered the kitchen, coming face to face with soonyoung and his angry pout. “where the fuck is my cake?” he asked, and now, a week later, his words were still echoing through his head.
it was never his intention to lash out at you like that. obviously. he was tired, and hungry, his muscles were aching, he felt like a bad boyfriend for spending so little time with you, and he forgot to buy a gift for his mom's birthday - not that it mattered, nothing could excuse him for being so mean to you. to make matters worse, instead of acting like a man and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, he chickened out and just left.
“man, why don’t you just don’t call her and apologise?” woozi sighed, throwing his head back because it had to be the tenth time he had to listen to hoshi’s story of how he decided to act like the biggest dick over an overpriced piece of a strawberry cake.
“i did but she’s not answering.”
“no shit, i wouldn’t have answered either.”
and that exactly was the biggest problem - it was hard enough to go through a fight while he was home, but now that he was overseas, a thousand kilometres away from you it was impossible. yes, he could send you flowers and shit, but it would only piss you off even more. there was no way for him to show you how truly fucking sorry he was.
“i know you’re angry with me right now, but please,” hoshi took in a shaky inhale. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… sad. “please, just call me back,” that had to be the tenth voicemail he left you ever since he left home.
you, on the other hand, weren’t doing much better. you felt like slapping the shit out of him that night in your apartment, and although you were able to control your sudden surge of violence, you didn’t hold back on cursing him out after he left. you even thought about burning his side of the closet but if you did that you’d lose all of your favourite hoodies and flannels, so you gave up on that too.
after your short rage situation, you sat down at kitchen island, and stared at the empty plate where soonyoung’s cake was supposed to be. how were you supposed to know he’d act like that over a cake? obviously you wouldn’t have eaten it then. you figured your boyfriend must’ve had a really bad day at the rehearsals. the past couple of days were really harsh on him, and if you could you’d wrap him in bubble wrap, a couple of blankets, and cuddle the shit out of him for being so strong through all of this.
all of those excuses for him and still - you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his calls and texts, no matter how much listening to his voicemails broke your heart.
“so, um, i know we’re not talking but i’m just calling to tell you good morning. remember to eat, and um, have a great day, baby.”
the boys were slowly losing their patience too (seungcheol asked mingaho if he could share some of his calming tea) because a grumpy hoshi was never a fun hoshi, plus - they hated seeing their best friend constantly beating himself over your fight. there was something lacking without their performance team leader’s spark.
“should we just call her?” mingyu looked over at soonyoung, who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. “he looks pathetic, moping around like that,” he snorted.
seungcheol groaned, banging his head on jeonghan's shoulder. as they started to get older he started to feel less like a leader but more like a therapist (he really thought about resigning the day seungkwan came whining about a love triangle he got himself into). “they are adults, they should figure it out between themselves.”
“oh come on, do we have to remind you what we had to do for you when you forgot about your girlfriend's birthday so she would forgive you?” mingyu snickered, and pulled out his phone.
you didn’t know what to expect when you saw mingyu’s picture flash over your phone screen. it definitely had something to do with your boyfriend, that much you gathered, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. your boyfriend’s words really hurt you, and no matter how much you wanted to forgive him, you weren’t sure you could do it yet.
eventually, you clicked on the green button with a shaky finger. “yes?” you took a deep inhale and prepared yourself for whatever you were about to hear.
“okay, so you know exactly why i’m calling. your boyfriend looks like a kicked puppy, he stopped saying horanghae, he’s dressed all in black and he looks like he drank an entire bottle of soju. i mean, don't worry, he didn't do it because he would be reeling now, but you get what i mean. whatever happened between the two of you, give us back our hoshi."
"well, that was very tactful," you heard coups' voice in the background.
“can you shut up for one second?”
“no, in fact i can’t.”
“okay, boys, i don’t want to interrupt whatever is going on, but i really need to know if he’s doing as bad as you're saying.”
“bad” didn’t even come close to what hoshi was feeling. at this point he was so angry and frustrated at himself for acting like he acted, that seriously had to be one of his lowest points of his life achievements. now you were going to dump him, and he’d have to drown himself in soju, and grow a beard, and write a sad love song that he’d hear at the radio for the rest of his life, and-
there was no way you were calling him right now. and yet, “h-hello? babe?”
“no, the fucking pope,” he’d have to add a cabin in the woods to his list of what he’d do after you’d break up with him. “kwoon soonyoung, you have to be one of the most insufferable, impatient and immature people i know. all this because of a piece of cake? do you hear how childish that sounds?"
loud and clear, honey.
“that’s why i didn’t apologise in the first place. i immediately realised how fucking stupid i acted, and felt so ashamed of saying all of those awful things to you, and so i just left.”
you sighed defeated. you kind of anticipated him saying that - your boyfriend had a habit of doing things before thinking them over, and as much as you understood him being exhausted and overworked, you still couldn’t forget how small he made you feel that night.
“look, i really don’t want to fight, being away from you is hard enough, but…,” you ran a hand over your face. what were you supposed to do? you spent the last three nights on the couch because you couldn’t fall asleep in your shared bed, and there were so many times when you wanted to text him about the most unserious things that only he’d get, but you just couldn’t. “your words really hurt me.”
“i know, shit, i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. whatever i’ll say it won’t be enough, i should’ve apologised right away. fuck, your boyfriend is such a loser,” you heard him laugh, but it was not the usual soonyoung laugh that made the flowers bloom, and sun shine. “i understand if you want to take a break.”
“that’s the thing, i don’t want to take any breaks. i miss you so much. i miss talking to you every night, i miss our silly conversations, i miss getting my daily hoshi boyfriend pics. i’m sick of seeing your face on twitter and not over face time,” you pulled the sleeve of his sweater over your hand, like it would make you feel any closer to him. “let’s take it slow, maybe?”
you could swear you heard soonyoung exhale, “yes, yes, let’s do that. whatever you need, babe,” he said immediately. “my poor baby must’ve been so nervous.”
“i love you, you know,” you whispered. there was no point in making things worse and pretending that you didn't miss him, and even though it would probably be a while before everything went back to normal, you didn't want him to doubt whether you still loved him as much as you did before.
“i love you too. very much,” he whispered back, finally sounding a bit happier. “and baby? thank you for calling me back.
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Kinktober Day 16: Daddy Kink + Mingyu
For 🤭
Rating: M (18+) | WC: 746
Pairing: Mingyu x Reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: daddy kink, cum as lube, implied consent, belly bulge, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex, double creampie, cum inflation, breeding kink but just the cum part
Reader Notes: has a vagina
Mingyu loves to take care of you.
It’s a fact you know well, one you’re reminded of every day in a plethora of ways. Your car is always full of gas and your oil changes are always up to date. You never go hungry, he’s ready at any time to cook for you or buy you whatever food you want. He even washes your hair for you, helps you put on lotion, and picks out your pajamas.
So when you say, “Thank you, daddy,” for the first time, you mean it.
He’s cleaning you up after sex when you let it slip out, and as soon as the words leave your lips, he’s pushing your legs apart and slotting himself in between them, one hand on his suddenly rock hard cock and the other on your cheek.
“Say it again, baby.”
He sounds ragged, like it’s something he’s always wanted but long ago gave up on, and he looks like his life hangs on getting to hear you say-
“Thank you, daddy,” you whisper as he leans in, barely getting the last syllable out before he’s kissing you breathless and pushing inside of you. There’s still a lot of cum from before and it eases the way, eases the bit of soreness you feel from the first round, but combined with his dick, it almost makes you feel more full than you can take.
You’ll take it for him though, for Mingyu, because you love him more than anything. And when he grits out, “Again, call me that again,” you listen.
“Daddy, you feel so good,” you whine, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck as your legs twine around his waist, his cock carving a path inside you that’s just for him.
He fucks in and out of you, much of his usual finesse absent with how desperate he is to take you, to claim you, to make you his. You do your best to open up for him, holding on for dear life as he fills you again and again, his dick throbbing and jerking within your walls in overstimulation.
His body feels so big on top of you and his cock feels so big inside of you that all the thoughts in your brain are traded for one word, a word you moan out continuously as he pounds into you. Every utterance makes him swear and fuck you harder, his dick reaching the end of you with each thrust.
You glance down at the space between you and see a slight bulge in your lower belly, one that grows when he fills you and shrinks when he leaves. You need Mingyu to feel it, your hand covering his to tug it from your cheek and pull it down to cover that spot, your breath stalling in your chest as you wait for his reaction.
“Fuck, is that my dick?” He groans brokenly. “Daddy’s so big inside you, huh? Am I too big for you, baby?”
“No, never,” you cry insistently. “I love how big you are, daddy.”
“Of course you do, baby. Gotta be all big and strong so I can protect you and, fuck, take care of you, give you everything you need.”
And he does, he does protect you and take care of you and give you everything you need, and suddenly you feel so loved, your aching heart almost can’t take it.
“Love you so much, daddy,” your voice is sodden with tears, your arms tightening around his neck until he’s nose to nose with you, until he can whisper his, “I love you, baby,” right into your mouth.
As soon as the words leave him, you break. Light floods your vision and your hearing gets muffled, your pussy undulating wildly around his cock, pulling him over the edge with you. His moans vibrate against your lips and his hips buck against yours, his dick jumping inside of you as his cum paints your fluttering walls.
There was already enough inside of you to slosh with his thrusts and now, your stomach is distended with it, leaving you feeling swollen and heavy. You were tired before but you really can’t move this time, your brain foggy and your body sticky as you try to come back to yourself.
Blissfully, you realize you don’t have to, because you’ve got a big, strong daddy to do the moving for you.
Just as soon as he finds the will to move himself.
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