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vroomvroomwee · 8 months

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Aziraphale's vest

I'd like to take a second and talk about his vest because I think it's a really good metaphor for Aziraphale's internal feelings.

At first glance it's obvious the vest is quite old. Really old in fact if you note the way it's practically disintegrating.

And it got me thinking a bit. The way the white practically bleeds from the edges of the neck, shoulders and buttons, going further and further, one day if he's persistent enough to wear it, it might even take over the entire vest. You could say that that, somehow, mirrors Heavens influence over Aziraphale. Slowly, slowly, biding their time, until it has completely ridden him of any colour. Until it has completely washed him of his identity, of his originality, of his character.

Take a look at his clothing when he's up in Heaven.

Completely and utterly white. Every piece of clothing he's wearing is pure and untarnished white. Upon entering Heaven, against his own accord, it has stripped him of his uniqueness, of anything that might distinguish him from any other angel who blindly follows orders and who's sole purpose is to do Heavens bidding.

Now, he could miracle the white patches on the vest away easily. But he doesn't want to.

The thing is. He likes the imperfect. He likes partaking in human activities and pleasures, like food, music, etc. Likes to indulge himself in earthly things Heaven would label as sinful or "sullying." And as someone who bas been on the receiving end of Heavens ridicule and passive aggression for millenia, as someone who for centuries has been told that he's underperforming and needs to do better, as someone who is all too aware of his own impurity by the standards an angel should hold and of the quite frankly unholy behaviour in performing immoral temptations and directly going against Heavens orders no more than a few times throughout the eras, it's no wonder he finds comfort in the imperfect.

He keeps the deteriorating edges because they are a perfect representation of his own internal feelings and image. After all, there's no rule that says he can't. And a big kudos to the costume department, for the patches perfectly encapsulate his religious trauma. Without it, he would probably be a very different person. He wouldn't be the same Aziraphale we know and love. The same way he likes being old-fashioned with his clothes and how that is a part of who he is, his trauma is a part of him as well, along with Heavens influence that has shaped him into who he is today, whether he likes it or not.

Every part of the vest illustrates Aziraphale's character and internal feelings, which brings me to another point I want to draw attention to, and that is the BACK of the vest.

It's DARK. And I don't think I'm mistaken when I say that most of us didn't expect it to look like that from behind. We all just assumed that it would be the same beige colour as the front, which is in tune with the rest of his attire. After all, seeing him wearing a dozen different outfits all throughout history, all of them some shade of white, it was the logical conclusion.

But no.

It's not white. It's a dark, slightly viridian or a dark blue colour. "Dark blue suggests a more mysterious depth or ominous quality. Power and authority: Dark blue signifies power and responsibility. "

Not what we would have expected that colour at all. Similarly to how one wouldn't expect an angel to perform temptations or be gluttonous, or envious, or slothful, or hedonistic. Not at first glance anyway.

Not unless you look carefully.

Not unless you know him.

The coat almost acts like a cover. The light over the dark. Almost as if it's trying to hide something. The only times we see Aziraphale not wearing the coat is in his bookshop. Which is logical, of course. You wouldn't wear a coat indoors, obviously. Except he DOES. He wears the coat when he and Crowley are drunk, he wears it when he's reading Agnes Nutter, he wears it when Gabriel and Sandalphon pop in, he wears it when he's talking to the Metatron, he wears it when he's listening to Shostakovich, he even wears it at the Ritz where it would be custom to take off your coat while dining. And it's worth noting that during the events happening (at least in the first season), the season is summer. Which would make it quite ridiculous to be wearing so many layers everywhere you go and therefore risk boiling. But he still wears the coat.

The only times he doesn't wear it is in the first episode after the sushi, when he's all ALONE, and in season 2 at the bookshop when Crowley comes back and in 1941.

And there's something oh so personal about that.

I don't think it's a coincidence that the darker part is specifically the back of the vest. There's always been this natural human instinct to protect yourself by never ever turning your back on a foe. And I don't think this is a conscious effort on Aziraphale's part, but rather genius writing, directing and costume design, and anyone who's watched and read Good Omens knows that almost nothing is coincidental.

Note this is probably the first time Aziraphale has called Crowley his friend, seeing how uncertain and doubtful he was to even say the word in this scene and how quick he was to deny their friendship in the Shakespeare scene. And the camera immediately cuts from Crowley to Aziraphale, who is turned away, whose back is turned to Crowley oh so casually without a care in the world. Just before he calls him his friend. His back is turned, and so is the dark part of his vest.

The dark part he only shows in his bookshop, when he's alone and there's no one there. The part that he now only shows to Crowley as well. Crowley who knows him so well and who's been with him through everything. "I won't tell anyone if you won't." And "you said trust me""and you did". Just this small motion of Aziraphale depicts exactly how much trust he has in Crowley not only that he'll keep him safe and protected but to accept him just as he is, to not judge him, to not demean him for his imperfections as an angel. Practically mirroring Crowley's self-protection mechanism that is reflected in his motions to hide his eyes with his sunglasses (there's a wonderful meta on this by @simply-brightly-zee here )

And it might just be clothing, or it might just be genius symbolism, but note how self-aware Aziraphale is of his looks when Gabriel pops up.

The desire to impress is almost unconscious in this scene, and how does he go about doing it? By making sure he looks presentable. Presentable, despite the white patches and the vest that is falling apart, he doesn't even realise it. Therefore, it's clear Aziraphale puts thought into his clothes, whether consciously or unconsciously.

I personally dont think any of this (the coat, the patches, the way he turns his back, when, where and around who he's most comfortable) is a deliberate and intentional act on Aziraphales part but rather creative brilliance from the directors and producers. So him being shown to expose the back of the vest only in scenes with Crowley (and the one in s2 infront of an amnesiac Gabriel with the intelligence and awareness of a squirrel) is a master move on the costume department's part. The symbolusm being so small and imperceptible, but holding so much meaning. This small metaphor shows how much Aziraphale trusts Crowley and how comfortable he is around him. Crowley who knows about Aziraphale's transgressions, sins, unholy behaviours, lack of interest and dedication to his job, and overall "incompetence" as Aziraphale might put it and how he's "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing". Crowley, who will accept him and love him no matter what. Not despite those things, but because of those things.

They have found their "own side".

Edit: Not that important, but I just want to mention how, despite being tattered and falling apart, the vest is still in perfectly good condition. No matter the white seeping in and draining its colour, the vest doesn't have a single seam torn, not a button lost, perfect as the day it was bought. No matter what it's been put through, it's still kicking, whether by miracle or sheer willpower. Very much like the person wearing it.

#good omens #goodomens #aziraphale #crowley #goodomenss2 #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens analysis #analysis

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satoruoo · 5 months

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Can I make a request? 🥹 Gojo being dumb, mistaking your period cravings, sickness and getting bloated as reader being pregnant 😂

✦°. JUMPSCARE - gojo satoru

"babe, you don't look too good. everything okay?"

satoru watches you closely as you look up from your phone. you're curled in an odd position on the couch, shifting your legs every few minutes in a weak attempt to soothe the pain bubbling just below your abdomen.

if you're being honest, the discomfort was relatively merciful with you today. the seizing, sharp waves of pain that usually rendered you immobile for a few agonizing seconds were duller, so it was bearable.

you hum, the sound seeming to alleviate satoru's worries by the way his shoulders loosen.

"i'm okay, toru," you assure him, smiling up at your unnecessarily tall boyfriend. "could use some fried chicken right now though."

he blinks, jeweled cerulean eyes brightening as the worry seeps out of him entirely. he straightens, raising a singular toned arm to salute you with a grin.

"stay right there, princess!"

you're about to ask what that means, but before you can, satoru disappears from sight. you huff a short laugh and return to the weather app on your phone. leave it up to your lover, gojo 'the strongest sorcerer' satoru to teleport to KFC to bring you, his beloved girlfriend, some fried chicken.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

satoru idly bounces on the balls of his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits in the ridiculously long queue for his order.

concerned by your strange actions recently, a part of him still feels anxious. your peculiar desire for fried chicken over the last few days has led him to worry, not to mention his fifth visit to KFC in four days.

when he really thinks about it, you'd complained multiple times this week about your nausea but you'd assured him you were fine. he didn't believe that for a minute, of course, and insisted he stay within 3 meters of you in case something happened.

weird.

satoru smiles as he takes his order from the worker, thanking her politely before turning to exit.

you'd whined about being bloated too, he often found your hand cradling your stomach as your face contorted in pain momentarily. he'd been at your side immediately, kissing your face while you breathed through the discomfort.

really weird.

he briskly makes his way out of the double doors, flashing a pearly white smile at a nice-looking pregnant lady as he leaves.

huh. pregnant.

his steps slow down.

satoru turns around again, ocean eyes fixated on the male who gently helps the woman up the steps with a smile that somehow says excited to be a father.

the world seems to stop turning for a second, the eight letters that spell pregnant lighting up like glowsticks in his head. pregnant. the word bounces around in his head, ricocheting off the bone and making a home for itself in the tissue of his brain.

being bloated. the nausea. the cravings.

there was no way. well, there was a way, he can name at least twelve separate occasions in which he'd had you sprawled out under him, moaning his name as he panted into your ear like a bitch in heat during the last month.

satoru genuinely thinks he's been reborn on the spot, a new kind of euphoria surfacing in his brain.

(until some stupid rat-ass kid slams into his legs and he's kicked back into reality.)

he doesn't think he's ever teleported faster in his life.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

when he gets home, you've relocated to the bed. you're lying on your front, swinging your legs in the air as you paint your nails a sky blue.

(one time you unintentionally painted your nails the same colour as satoru's eyes and he never shut the fuck up about it. you now unconsciously paint your nails that colour. satoru swoons over it at every chance he gets.)

you hear the door slam downstairs, signaling satoru's return. he'd taken a bit longer than usual, and you turn to face him as the bedroom door flies open.

"toru, baby, what have i told you about slamming doors? this is the third time you've.." you trail off, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend who's heaving, presumably from running up the stairs.

"what the fuck is wrong with you-"

"baby!" satoru cries, throwing your precious fried chicken to the floor as he kneels next to the bed. he takes your non-painted hand and holds it close to his heart, ignoring your curses at him over the food.

"why didn't you tell me?!" he whines.

your face only twists in further confusion. what on earth was he talking about?

"huh? what're you-"

"there's no need to hide it, my love. i already know!"

you blink, propping yourself up on your elbows as you eye him suspiciously. you're aware of his tendency to be dramatic, but you'd never seen him like this before.

you cock your head to the side, "know what?"

"about the, y'know," he says, getting close to your ear and whispering, "the baby."

baby? what baby? as far as you were aware, the only baby in this household was the large man-child wailing about something or other at the side of the bed.

"did you hit your head or something?" you ask genuinely.

satoru has to resist melting into your hold when your hands come to cup his face, checking him over for some kind of injury or fever. you find evidence of neither, so you pull back, eyebrows furrowing.

"no! i'm talking about our baby."

your mouth falls open in surprise. did you get pregnant without knowing?? that was impossible, you were literally on your period. and if that was the case, the only person who could be pregnant was...

"toru...." you start seriously, face hardening, "are you pregnant?"

satoru chokes on his own saliva. him??? pregnant?????? his eyes widen and practically fall out of their sockets as you double over in laughter, clutching your stomach and pressing your face into the pillow. clearly, you find this entire situation fucking hilarious.

when your laughter finally subsides and satoru has physically put his eyes back where they belong, you speak again, "no but seriously babe, what are you talking about?"

he pouts, climbing into bed with you and pulling you on top of him. he runs his fingers gently up the skin of your arm, tracing shapes and patterns as he tries to find his words.

"aren't you pregnant?" he asks quietly. "y'know, with all the nausea and the bloating and the cravings?"

you smile into the crook of his neck, partly moved by his genuine thought process no matter how fucked up and wrong it was.

"no, toru, i'm just on my period." you answer into his skin.

"oh."

satoru feels positively stupid, feeling his cheeks burning. he was fully prepared to be a father, he'd also debated pulling out that engagement ring that he'd been putting off giving you for a while.

you bury yourself deeper into his hold, sighing happily as his strong arms pull you flush against him.

"is this your way of telling me you want kids?"

his muscles tense in response to the question. a yes then, it seemed.

"kids would be nice, i guess," satoru mumbles, trying to downplay the excitement simmering in his core. you're experienced though, so you see right through him.

you simply hum in response, opting to press a sweet kiss to the junction of his neck as an answer. he grins lazily, kissing the top of your head affectionately as your breaths even out, indicating your movement into dream land.

maybe, just maybe some part of satoru wanted kids, and maybe, just maybe, one day that'd happen.

(he gets sent on another errand when you wake up to get twice the amount of fried chicken because of his carelessness with the last batch.)

BONUS:

"i blame you for this."

"what!? this is not my fault! i mean yeah, i might have stuck my dick into you a couple times these past few weeks but still-"

"would the both of you get the fuck out?" shoko's voice interrupts as she hands you back the positive pregnancy test, "you two act like an old married couple."

"yeah well my husband over here has some weird psychic powers," you retort, flipping satoru off with a scowl, "because guess who's pregnant after he accused me of being pregnant a month ago!?"

he grins, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "i'm just so great that i have the ability to predict the future too."

"can you look into the future and see if you two ever get the fuck out?" shoko asks tiredly, sinking further into her chair.

satoru grins, kissing your cheek sweetly and laying his head on your shoulder, "nah, i can't see that happening."

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nariism · 6 months

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a simple mission — neuvillette

accidental confession + "say it again. please."

synopsis. oh. oh no. you were most certainly not supposed to overhear this conversation between the iudex and the duke, but now you don't even know how to act right.

wc. ~1k

— for an anon bff 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

You didn't mean to eavesdrop.

Really, truly, you didn't. All you had come for was to deliver the new reports from Poisson, have your usual polite chit-chat, then take the rest of the night off for your date.

Really, truly, you wish you hadn't overheard the conversation on the other side of the door—the muffled voices of who you presumed to be the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide making his rare overworld appearance and the Iudex of whom you held so dear.

Really, truly, you meant to walk away when you heard the passing of your name from Wriothesley, the curious tone and the silence that followed.

"I don't get you." A sigh, indignant and frustrated, then: "You're supposed to tell people how you feel. Jeez."

"It's quite complicated."

"Complicated? Come on, I'm tired of watching the two of you make goo-goo eyes at each other."

"... 'Goo-goo' eyes?..."

You stifle your laughter at the strained voice, though you have to wonder if your crush on Neuvillette was so obvious that even the warden had noticed from afar.

"You're seriously just going to let them go on a date?"

"That is their decision to make. Not mine."

"Whatever. I'm just saying you should consider the possibility that you should pursue this."

"My feelings for them don't amount to anything, so just forget—"

The door swings open faster than you can blink and you're left flailing around pathetically with your stack of papers. Both men stand dauntingly in the doorway, peering at you in mortification (and, to your horror, a shine of amusement in Wriothesley's eyes).

Really, truly, you wanted to melt into the Primordial Sea right then and there. And perhaps you should have turned heel and bolted away to do just that, if only to miss the incriminating colour blooming on Neuvillette's cheeks.

He was right. It is complicated, and the way he can't meet your gaze makes it all the worse.

You've called off your date tonight.

It's not the first time. It certainly won't be the last if this keeps up.

Unsure of what to do or where to go, you end up soaked in the rain at the edge of the city. The bridge overlooks the flooding Court of Fontaine—a pretty, weeping sight that Neuvillette had shown you what felt like eons ago. Back when the two of you were just friends and nothing more, when his name didn't stir something scorching within your heart.

What should have remained a professional, civil relationship between you and the Iudex grew into something more as the years passed.

You noticed the glow of his lilac eyes, the way they softened when you entered a room; the undeniable fondness in his expression as it crinkled with his smile, dignified but warm; the lingering of his hand over yours as he accepted whatever you brought to him for that day, a gesture which he hadn't graced others with to your knowledge.

Wriothesley had bugged you once about it before during one of his visits, calling you a lovesick fool. As it turns out, he loved drama of all sorts and was making it his personal mission to witness this opera himself.

You hadn't expected him to bring it up with Neuvillette as well, thinking that he would be too off put by the judge's apparent indifference toward you.

The soft pitter-patter of rain hushes as an umbrella unfolds above you, shielding you from the onslaught.

"You'll catch a cold."

You visibly deflate, head burying into your arms along the stone railings. Oh, dear. You don't know how to act right now. How are you supposed to act in front of the person who admitted to having feelings for you just a few ago?

Neuvillette takes your silence as his cue to continue probing. "I wanted to chat with you about what happened today. But, if you're busy then..." He turns his head left and right, searching for any signs of the date you had thrilled about earlier this week.

(A date that you wished could erase all the feelings you had for him, to no avail.)

"I'm not busy. I canceled," you tell him quietly. You stand up straight, turning to face him but with avoidant eyes. "What is it?"

"I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable this afternoon. I understand it is unprofessional for us to be involved with each other, and I won't bring it up again. Not even to Wriothesley."

You blink at him, half surprised yet half not. The sudden downpour of rain roars in your ears deafeningly, somber weather matching his darkening appearance.

"You don't have to apologize. I wasn't uncomfortable, just..." You look away awkwardly. "Confused."

"What is there to be confused about?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "About why you never told me how you feel."

(Hypocrisy at its finest, honestly.)

Silence overcomes you again as he considers your words, deep in thought. You can tell just by the minute twist of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes, and it makes you sick that you can read every single tell of his emotions.

"I wouldn't want to burden you. I am unfamiliar with feelings such as these. I don't think I am fit to be your partner."

"Nobody is perfect," you remind him gently, reaching out to wipe the wetness from the rain off his cheeks. "Do you think I'm perfect?"

"Undoubtedly."

His quickness makes you snort with laughter, hand withdrawing from his space to take the umbrella.

"Wrong. Very wrong. I eavesdropped on you today, you know?"

"I know," he mutters, cheeks flaming with colour again as he remembers how flustered you seemed with the door swinging open. "How much of it did you hear?"

You hum, a soft smile spreading across your face. "Enough."

Neuvillette shrinks back in embarrassment. "And I suppose Wriothesley knew you were behind the door the entire time. Nothing escapes him."

"I'll have to thank him later," you giggle.

The Iudex stiffens. "You will?"

"Well... only if you say it again."

"That's—"

"Please?"

You watch the Adam's apple in his throat bob as he swallows, unable to regain composure.

"If I had feelings for you, would you accept them?"

You close the umbrella and shake it off, relishing in the sprinkle showering over you.

"A million and one times, I would."

He smiles, taking the umbrella from you. His hand lingers over yours for a moment, as always.

"Then I believe you do have some thanking to do."

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#umm silly repost bc tumblr ate my post for some reason #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x gn reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x gender neutral reader #neuvillette x you

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luveline · 6 months

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hi miss jade <3 if it hasn’t been done already, could you possibly write poly!marauders with a depressed reader? maybe she’s having a particularly hard time lately and she’s trying to hide it from them but they notice she’s been really quiet recently. then one day while they’re all just sitting together, one of them looks over and sees a tear rolling down her cheek and they comfort her </3 if this isn’t something you’re up to writing i understand! thank you nonetheless lovely <3

thank u for ur request lovely!

modern au

“No,” Remus is whispering, “that's the other actor.”

James leans into his side. You've successfully crammed yourselves onto the three seater sofa, all four of you. You're on one arm, Sirius the other. If Sirius and James sit together during a movie they won't stop talking, and if you and Remus sit together you'll spend the entire movie telling each other what other movies the actors have been in.

James and Remus seem to have found a loophole. Sirius tries uselessly to reach over their shoulders to touch you, but James blocks him by accident, head tilting back in a laugh.

You aren't in the mood for movies. Not their fault, not anyone's, but a melancholy has its hooks in you, and you'd excuse yourself to spend time alone with it if it didn't immediately draw their attention. You're not sure you want to be alone, either.

James reaches for your hand even as he speaks to Remus excitedly, “He's Ryan Gosling, right?”

“Yeah, James,” —said with love— “that's Ryan Gosling.”

You hold James' hand. It's a very real, very gentle tether, but eventually the noise in the room turns white. You lay your cheek on the sofa arm and watch the movie pass by in colours. Dusky orange, pink, blue rain. Your hard times recently have felt longer, deeper, and you've floundered in them helplessly.

Though the boys couldn't make it worse, their devotion tends to hurt. You feel like you're letting them down whenever you can't fight your lethargy. Even now when you're together for a normal night, you're stuck under the weight of it. You could be playing with James’ hair the way he loves, or telling Remus something interesting about the movie. You could crawl across the two chatterboxes and ask Sirius what he did at work today while he draws shapes into the back of your hand. But you're not. And everything begins to feel worse.

The TV flickers. The room hums. The tear that slides down your cheek is hot as the drag of a pin.

You shift down into the arm to hide it as more follow. James pulls his hand away, and you assume he's just getting comfortable, but he puts it on your shoulder, the sofa whining as he leans in. “Hey…” he whispers, nearly too soft to hear. He must've been watching you. They've been doing that more and more lately.

Your shoulders shake as the first sob brews. They aren't overly loud, you aren't wound tightly enough to really cry, you're just defeated. Tired and scared that this feeling is forever.

The contented atmosphere in the room drains quicker than snapped fingers. “What's wrong?” Sirius asks.

You curl away from James. You can't pretend you aren't crying and you don't really want to, but something about his touch feels raw. He comes closer, leaning into you, hand chasing around to your front where it rests over your heart. “It's okay,” he says soundly. “Oh, honey, it's okay.”

James isn't as heavy with the pet names as the other two. When he does use them, they're genuine but said in high spirits. Almost like a joke, his ever-present humour shining through. He's warm and steady behind you, his lips brushing your ear as he hugs you to his chest. “It's okay,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry.”

Remus says your name unhappily. They know better than to converge on you, and James has always been good at comforting people. Maybe his solidness in both physicality and personality does him credit, but more likely it's his unending patience. He doesn't rush you into feeling better. He just stays right there at your side until you stop shaking.

“Sorry,” you say again, voice in fractured layers, “I don't know…”

“I know,” he says. “Let's sit up, okay? Sit up.”

Remus gives you a look with just enough heartbreak that when he holds out his hand, you raise yourself up, knowing James will take you by the waist and help you over his lap. You smush in between their legs as Remus wipes your face dry, and Sirius meets your eyes around his shoulder. It all works to lift the weight from your chest, not fully, but enough to breathe.

“You don't have to explain.”

“Just don't cry more,” Sirius begs. He really hates tears, doesn't know what to do with them. “You're too lovely for tears.”

“Unless you need to,” James says.

“Right,” Sirius agrees through a wince.

“She's okay,” Remus says, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, “hmm? You're alright.”

He isn't pressuring you into pretending things are better than they are, he's encouraging, and he knows as you know that you're not very well, but you'll manage in the end. You sink back into James arms and smile at them weakly.

“I'm okay. I just wanted James to rub my stomach, that's all.”

“Theatrics in the name of attention,” Sirius says proudly. “As you should.”

James wraps his arms around your front, giving your abdomen a squeeze as he leans down to say, “I'll rub your stomach all night if you want me to,” with a warmth so tender it escapes words.

Remus drops back into Sirius rather aggressively. “Make haste.”

“Make haste?” Sirius presses his nose into Remus’ curls, his voice dripping with a feigned contempt, “You make haste, you sick freak.” And then he raises his hand to cover Remus' stomach in mirror of James’ touch.

You breathe out long and slow, eyes closing of their own accord. “I'm not going to sleep, okay? I'm just tired.”

James gets comfortable underneath you. “Do what you want, babe. I'm here for the night. If I need to pee I'll just hoist you into Moony's lap for a bit.”

“I can fit two, thanks,” Sirius interjects.

“Fine. I'll hoist you into his lap. Though I've no clue why you'd want to spend any time with that bossy bastard.”

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justauthoring · 6 months

Note

I really like your Tokyo revengers He’s Taken scenario. What if it happened in reverse where someone told the boys that they would be a better fit for reader <3

TOKYO REVENGERS - UM, SHE'S TAKEN?

includes: manjiro "mikey" sano, hanma shuji, baji keisuke and kazutora hanemiya all include xfem!reader!

a/n: this is so late but i felt i should actually do a request for once :) and i always love me some jealous boys!

MIKEY:

The audacity of this man.

That was all Mikey could think.

Did he not know who he was? Did he not know who you were dating? The Invisible Mikey, Toman's Leader and the most handsome boy you knew?

Clearly not.

Frowning, Mikey watches with barely concealed disdain as your classmate (the one you’ve been complaining to him about for weeks now) follows you outside of the school. He couldn’t always pick you up from school with Toman business and the like, but today he’d made sure he’d be able to after you’d texted him the day before that your annoying classmate had proceeded to take his infatuation with you a step further and follow you out of school. It had taken you great convincing to get him not to ‘walk you home’ as he so eloquently put it – stalking more like it – and though you’d tried to play it off, Mikey knew how scared you were.

The second your eyes fall on Mikey making his way over to you, he sees the instant relief that floods through them. Despite everything, Mikey can't help but feel slightly smug at that, hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets as he crosses the distance over to you.

"Y/N-channn!" He calls out, arms stretched out towards you and with a single brief glance at the boy next to you, you all but race towards him, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Mikey hates the way he feels you shake slightly beneath his fingertips, and he throws a not-so-subtle glare the classmates way, who – as he figured – is glaring right back at him.

"Y/N," the classmate calls, and Mikey's eyes narrow at his familiarity when regarding you. "Who's this?"

You lean back from his hug, and Mikey can see you look rather annoyed at the question – clearly, you've told him this before.

"Mikey," Mikey cuts in dryly, "her boyfriend."

And he must really not know who Mikey is because he has the gall to laugh.

"Boyfriend?" Haru laughs, mockingly and loudly, head thrown back as you cast a quick glance up at Mikey in uncertainy, trying to gauge he's reaction. Truthfully, Mikey looks unphased. "I thought you were joking about that, Y/N."

And then Haru steps forward, moving towards you; "I mean, you and me make a much better–"

It happens in a flash. Suddenly, you're no longer in Mikey's arms and rather set gently behind him, Mikey’s body blocking your view as Haru's hand that was outstretched towards you is now tightly grasped in Mikey's fist. A quick glance at Haru's face, and you can tell that Mikey's grip is tight, his face twisting with pain.

"Did I forget to mention?" Mikey smiles, "I'm also the leader of Toman."

Haru's eyes widen and he looks scared–well, shitless.

Mikey's grip tightens, finding the way all colour leaves Haru's face rather amusing and the way the panic wells with pain as Mikey bends his arm to the point of just being about to break.

"Now, what was that about you and Y/N-chan being a better match?"

"I was wrong!" Haru cries, voice pitching pathetically, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Don't apologize to me," Mikey shrugs, "apologize to Y/N-chan for making her so uncomfortable for the past few weeks."

Slowly, Mikey takes a step back, allowing you to fall in the view of Haru again, who, near crying, falls to his knees. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"

Cheeks red slightly in embarrassment, you turn to Mikey.

He lets go with ease, Haru falling to the ground with one last cry, before Mikey makes his way to you, pulling you back into his arms with a wide grin.

"Let's go eat!" Mikey calls out with a cheer, snuggling into you. "I want you to feed me!"

HANMA:

"I mean, you're no good for her."

There's a beat. One long, single beat of silence before Hanma can't hold himself back anymore and he burst into laughter.

You, whose stood next to him, looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening as Hanma all but cackles in response to Asahi's words. Asahi, to be fair, looks just a stunned, and with a frown, you step towards your boyfriend, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Shuji!" You hiss, grip tightening on him.

He falls quiet at that, letting his eyes drift across you briefly, taking in the worried look in your eyes and the laughter stops at that. Hanma lets his eyes fall back on this boy, Asahi apparently, and the frown deepens – you were scared of this guy? He looked like wind might blow him over.

Besides, didn't you trust him to protect you?

A single glance back at you, and you're still throwing worried glances at Asahi, shuffled close to his side.

Guess he had something else to prove then.

"That's funny," Hanma finally speaks up, letting his eyes fall on Asahi with disinterest. "Hilarious actually." But all the humour has left his body, and Hanma simply stares back at the boy with a straight face.

Asahi falters, just slightly.

"I-I mean, you're a deliquent!" He calls out, gesturning in front of him at Hanma, before his eyes fall on you. "I mean, surely you can see that being with him will be nothing but a bad influence. If you were–"

Hanma steps in front of you, blocking you effectively from him.

"You don't get to talk to her," Hanma states rather bluntly.

Asahi turns to him, lips parting.

"You're not worthy enough to talk to her, pipsqueak. So let's keep this between you and me, huh?"

The air changes, thickens, and although you can't see it, you can practically sense as Asahi grows nervous, registering the glint in Hanma's gaze as he stares him down.

"I mean, surely, if you knew I was a... what did you say? Delinquent." Hanma snorts, "you think you'd have the brains to realize I'm not someone to mess with. And I don't take kindly to idiots like you trying to tell me who my girl should or shouldn't be with."

Hanma takes a step forward then, towering over the boy whose skin has grown pale, eyes flooding with fear as he stares up at Hanma.

"I especially don't take kindly to you scaring my girl either."

"I-I–"

Grabbing Asahi by the collar of his jacket, Asahi falls silent as Hanma pulls him up until he's standing on the tip of his toes, kicking his feet beneath him.

"But it seems I screwed up too, huh? My girl shouldn't have to be afraid because she should know I'd never let anyone touch her, let alone look at her if they made her uncomfortable."

There's a pause and Hanma's gaze grows wild as his fist slowly raises beside him, Asahi's cries of panic and pleads of mercy simply a background noise.

"So it looks like I gotta show her why."

BAJI:

"You're loud."

Well, Baji guessed he couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"You're rash."

That, too... maybe.

"You're not very smart."

Uh, ouch.

"You act without thinking. It could get Y/N hurt."

Okay, well that was just rude.

You were always Baji's top priority.

Well, that and fighting. But, still.

"I think I'd be a much better fit for her."

Baji should've figured this is where the conversation was going. Letting his eyes drift across the boy stood in front of him, he takes in the sight of his Toman uniform. He doesn't readily recognize the boy, so he's certainly not in his division.

Ballsy, he'd admit.

But stupid nonetheless.

He's probably in Mitsuya's division, Baji laughs to himself.

Well, not for much longer.

"I'll take your silence as a sign you agree with me–"

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Baji chuckles, grinning down widely at the boy. "What makes you think you're so great for Y/N? I know she's happy with me."

Lips parting, the boy pauses; "what?"

"You listed off all the reasons why you think I'm not a good fit for her, right?" He quirks a brow, and the boy nods. "So, tell me why you think you're a good match for her. You win, I'll break up with Y/N. And if you lose... well, needless to say." With a wide grin, Baji cracks his knuckles, baring his fists down at the boy.

The boys eyes widen, and he fumbles for a second, before he steels himself, inhaling deeply.

"Well, I'm smart, for one–"

"Wrong," Baji cuts in, "Y/N doesn't like smart guys. Why else would she have gone for me?"

Faltering, the boy shakes his head; "w-well, I'm a good cook–"

"Y/N prefers cooking herself," Baji shakes his head. "It's her passion."

Cheeks redenning, the boy rushes to add; "I-I'm! I'm strong!"

Baji just laughs; "not as strong as me. You're not even a vice captain of Toman!"

Thoroughly embarrassed, the boy hesitates, face bright red.

"Looks like you lose," Baji sings, stepping towards the boy. "I mean, if you really knew Y/N, you'd know the most important thing."

"W-What?"

"That none of that matters because she loves me!"

"You can't just–"

He never finishes what he's about to say before a fist makes contact with his cheek, knocking him off his feet and sending him straight to the ground.

Baji glances down at him with a blink.

"Strong my ass."

He makes a move toward him, before;

"Keisuke!"

Eyes lighting up, Baji spins, grinning at the sight of you. "Y/N!"

You fall in front of him, eyes flickering from the boy groaning on the ground back to him, "did you get in another fight again?"

Baji shrugs; "the guy deserved it. Not much of a fight either.”

And your eyes fall back on the boy on the ground and there's a flicker of hope where he thinks you might help but, but then after a moment you follow Baji's lead, shrugging, letting him take your hand in his before leading him off.

Guess Baji was right – you really did love him.

KAZUTORA:

"I mean, didn't you go to juvie?"

Frowning, Kazutora glares at the man, Daiki as he'd introduced himself as, in front of him. He was apparently a co-worker of yours, though Kazutora's never heard you talk about him before.

Stuck at this party your work was holding for you as a celebration for the promotion you'd received and your excellent work at the company, Kazutora had gotten a whole half hour of your time before you'd been whisked off by two woman, you offering an apologetic smile over your shoulder in response.

At the time, Kazutora hadn't minded – this night was for you after all and he wanted you to enjoy it.

Now, though? He desperately wanted to leave.

"How do you even know that?" Kazutora asks, his patience thin.

"I did some research when Y/N mentioned your name," Daiki shrugs. "Of course, when she mentioned you she hadn't mentioned that."

It's obviously meant as a jab. But Kazutora knew you weren't embarrassed of him – at least, he'd been pretty sure of that.

"Well, it's not really any of your business is it?" Kazutora cuts in, barely able to contain the snide in his tone. He barely liked socializing with people anyway, especially strangers, but he'd gone for you and because he wanted to be apart of your celebration. It was the least he could do after all you'd done for him.

But now he wishes he’d stayed home if he had to continue dealing with this guy.

"Still," Daiki insists, "aren't you embarrassed? I mean, such an upstanding woman... it's a wonder why she ever chose you."

"I chose him because I love him for him," you cut in and Kazutora’s eyes widen, glancing over his shoulder to see you making your way over to him. You look absolutely stunning, dressed in a floor length Y/F/C dress and when you notice his eyes on you, you smile at him, before it falters as you turn back to glance at your coworker. "But I hardly think that's any of your business anyways."

You fall next to Kazutora, wrapping your arm around his waist as you fall into his side, and the second you do, you squeeze Kazutora's side, and he realizes you're trying to reassure him.

"Y/N–!"

"Honestly, Daiki," you breathe out, voice coming out purposely exasperated as you roll your eyes. "I've had this conversation with you multiple times. I am happily in a relationship and your obsession with my personal affairs is strange and inappropriate. Given my promotion, I could easily have you fired."

Kazutora watches as the man's eyes widen, cheeks bleeding red as he shakes his head; "my-my apologies. Please, you don't have to go that far. I'll... I'll make sure I stop."

You raise a brow, holding the man with bated breath for a moment, before you nod. "Just don't let it happen again."

Daiki scurries off without another word, desperate to get away and Kazutora watches as you let out a sigh, shoulders falling as you shift, coming to stand in front of him, hands falling on his hips.

"I'm sorry about him. He's been... annoyingly persistant about asking me out for the past bit. I thought he'd have stopped when I reported him last week but when I saw him talking to you just now, I realized he hadn't."

Kazutora glances down at you, meeting your gaze.

You understand what he's trying to say before he even does; "nuh-uh," you shake your head, tugging him closer to you. "Don't let a word that idiot says get to you. He's just a pervert anyways. He spends half of his time looking down my shirt and I would never want to be with someone like him over you."

Biting his lips, Kazutora smiles softly; "I love you."

"I love you too," you grin, before slipping your hand into his. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to my friends."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tr #tr x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano x reader #hanma shuj #manjiro sano #hanma shuji x reader #baji keisuki #baji keisuke x reader #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora hanemiya x reader #tokyo revengers hcs

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rjchocobi · 14 days

Text

HOLD STILL, PRETTY BOY, lee haechan

♡ . . . synopsis ; when your pretty boyfriend can't seem to stand in one place for a moment for you to snap a picture.

♡ . . . genre ; haechan × idol! fem reader, oh so silly fluff, inspired by the pictures from inkigayo bts they posted that took my breath away, established relationship.

♡ . . . notes ; i've been writing a lot these past few days and i think i'm over my slump. but i always start overthinking and never end up posting anything. here's to the first post on tumblr! just taking baby steps till i can put together something that lives up to my standards.

p.s also, requests are officially open!

"Lee Donghyuck, if you don't stop moving in the next second—"

Your exasperated yell does nothing but fuel his laughter as he ducks away from the frame of your camera, hands shoved in his pockets. Beside you Mark has given up wrangling his bandmate and stands under the cherry blossoms as you take a few stills of him.

All of your group members and theirs are spread around on the mostly empty street behind the SBS Open Hall. Beautiful pale pink flowers shower you with petals at the slightest wind blowing over them.

"Honestly, would it kill you to stand straight for a little bit?" You huff, putting the lens protector back on.

"I already have my whole day being filmed to be put on YouTube. I think I'm fine having a few minutes to myself," he says wittyly, making you pout.

It's not like he's wrong. He's just so infuriatingly correct about everything, and if you weren't such a sucker for capturing these moments, you would have been equally resistant to having a camera shoved in your face all the time.

"Hey, _____? Can I borrow your camera for a bit?" Jaemin's calls make you march over to him, handing over your precious Nikon DSLR with utmost care. Yet, if anything, he's the only one that understands your awe at such a whimsical sight.

You fish your phone from your pocket next, sheepishly approaching Donghyuck as he stares at the bright blue sky dotted with clouds. You can't take your eyes away from his face—from the sunlight peppering his skin in a delicate glow and making it's already lovely colour appear otherworldly; right down to the moles you loved to map constellations on.

Catching yourself before you could be found staring, you clear your throat. "Haechannie, can I please just take one picture? Pretty please?"

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement but he holds out hand towards you. You blink at it owlishly. "Only if we take a selfie together."

You smirk, seizing the golden opportunity to tease. "Oh, you looove me."

Contrary to what you expected—maybe a snarky reply or equal amounts of nonsensical teasing being reciprocated—Donghyuck only pulls you closer by hooking an arm around your waist, plucking petals off your curled hair. "That I do."

Feeling the familiar heat creep up you neck and towards your cheeks, you lower you head. "You're awfully sentimental today."

He scoffs. "What? Like I need a specific day to declare my overflowing feelings for my girlfriend." He pauses for a moment, staring at your dolled up face, a finger coming to press lightly on the gem sticker shaped like a star at the corner of your left eye. "You look really pretty."

You're practically beaming, soaking in this soft side of him you that adore just as much as his dramatics. "Yeah? You look very pretty, too. Now, hold still pretty boy and let me take a picture?"

"I guess one is fine." Donghyuck didn't let it show but you know he is flustered. Avoiding eye contact with such vigor was a telltale sign. You chuckle, going on your tiptoes to press your lips against his cheek, right as you click the shutter button.

Before you could pull back to inspect the product, he grabs the back of your neck, placing his pillowy lips on top of yours and you positively melt against him.

For all it was worth, you ignore the hoots and whistles of your friends to cherish these stolen moments wedged between hectic schedules.

#🍨 ── 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙤𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 ᵎ #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #lee haechan #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #lee haechan x reader

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imrllytootiredforthis · 2 months

Note

you know how cats like when you scratch above their tailbone

that but with lee know, like

if your fucking him from behind, just scratch and stroke over his tailbone, its enough to get him coming untouched

and the way he mewls like a kitten...

kitty~

lee know x reader

warnings: dom reader, sub lee know, reader fucking him though could be w a strap or a dick, cumming untouched, kitty lino, idk what else

a/n: help, help, help, anon you are 😵‍💫🙏, this is really short and kinda shit bc i haven't written in forever but found this in my inbox and couldn't resist

it happens when you're fucking into him, ass up and head buried into the pillows bc poor baby is too embarrassed to let you hear the downright slutty whines and pleads dripping from his lips one after another as you ram into prostate over and over.

any other day you'd tug him up by his hair, wrap your hand around his throat and pull his back flush to your chest. making his head spin by placing your lips beside his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe while you whispered such dizzying things to him.

but you're feeling nice today-or cruel.

with you, he finds that the two are often intertwined; one and the same really. able to bring him to the brink of insanity, leaving him drowning in the pool of your desire.

mercy is delivered in the form of sweet words and honeyed praises that seep into his skin, making him delirious like venom. and mercy is injected into him in the cruel way you thrust, pulling hoarse whines from him with every jolt of your hips: rough, demanding, animalistic, just the way he likes it.

"oh kitty~" you coo, and he mewls, proving the point you've made. "so pathetic." and you were right. you make him feel like he's melting, drooling into a puddle for you to mold and remake into whatever you pleased.

you sigh, "so messy," another truth, you were almost worried for your sheets with the amount of pre-cum he was leaking. "you gonna purr for me next? like a good kitty?"

he clenched around you, delightfully so.

he just looks so much like a cat right now.

the cat ears you had so lovingly placed in his hair, matching in colour so well they fit in seamlessly they might as well be real.

the way his hips sway, grinding back onto you to match your thrusts. you swear if he had a tail it would be flicking back and forth. wrapping around your thigh or ankle, trying to find some form of holding onto you- stay sane in the depths of this haze.

you were sure if he could purr, it would be loud enough for you to hear no matter how much he'd try to hide them. you could still hear his muffled mewls and cute hiccupy gasps even now.

just like a cat.

your pretty kitty, your lino.

and maybe...just maybe...

experimentally, cautiously (because much like a cat, you knew he didn't need to be provoked much to bite) you pressed your hand, lightly against his tailbone.

his reaction was immediate, and obvious, startlingly so.

his back arched. his thighs trembling, keening as he pressed back against you, grinding needily, like he couldn't get enough, like he could never get enough.

so you pressed slightly harder, rubbing small circles to the area, ripping high desperate mewls as he spasmed around you. unable to help his head snapping back, looking at you with wide, watery eyes as he came, dirtying the already ruined bedding with his spend.

you couldn't bring yourself to care at this point.

and he couldn't either.

you hummed, amused as you watch him slump onto the dirtied sheets, completely boneless. a quiet cry following when you slipped out of him.

"well that's something new~"

"-you...-you are never doing that again." he huffs, quietly, with little deliberation. with just enough force, in a way that you know he's going to be begging for it in less time than one may think with a stubborn, steadfast man such as your lino.

you only laughed and he shuddered at the sound.

"we'll see, kitty."

a/n: please, please give me a little slack if this is awful-the thoughts took over i wrote this in like half an hour in a moment of weaknessssss😫 i can't control them anymoreeeee

also ik i have a taglist i'll prolly get that out later today if i ever get it out at all😭

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tojivu · 3 months

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bite me ❤︎ ! ⋆ jjk men

an. my first multichar work !

cw. hickeys/lovebites with gojo, geto, toji, nanami + the terrible aftermath. suggestive, otherwise quite sfw. f!reader. suguru isn't a curse user.

playing. bite me by enhypen.

GOJO SATORU is a cocky fucking bastard. just 12 hours ago, he had you wrapped around his finger — quite literally, as well — and his lips were practically superglued to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbones. it didn't occur to you, though, that your boyfriend didn't have the weekend off; after all, he did tell you he was going to be home the entirety of it.

well, you should've known that satoru would do anything to have his way with you — a little white lie, that's what he tells himself — but he had to admit that he couldn't think very straight, otherwise, he wouldn't have let you leave so many.

it's 11 in the morning when you receive a text from shoko. you can hear the disgusted yet unsurprised tone through the pixels, asking you why your boyfriend was sporting roughly 4 — yes, they were so obvious that she could count — patches of purple on his neck and jawline.

shoko: satoru looks like he got in a fight with a leech lol

when satoru comes home, the mortified feeling intensifies by tenfold — they're much more obvious in real life. the colour has faded a little, but hickeys are still hickeys, and your boyfriend is still an imbecile.

"what?"

"you have no shame," you turn your head away from the man standing at the entryway of your shared home, and back to the television. "you said you were gonna be home. you left before i woke up—"

"important jujutsu stuff," satoru interrupts. he takes his blindfold off, quick footsteps as he makes his way to the couch. your arms are folded together, an attempt to show satoru that you were upset. "couldn't be helped, baby. 'm sorry."

you turn your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed when you realise your boyfriend doesn't care one bit — he thinks there's nothing wrong with people knowing he's unavailable, and even more so when you're the reason.

"can you at least use some of my foundation?"

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU has a little bit of dignity, but the collar of his shirt is a little too low to be coincidental. he secretly loves it whenever his friends ask about it, tease him about finally having a girl when he's been alone for so long.

it's a friday afternoon when he's at the gym getting his daily workouts in, and his cheeks flush when satoru nudges his bicep and lets a hearty laugh out; "aw, suguru's gotten busy, huh? this why you didn't turn up yesterday?"

suguru groans and tells satoru to shut the fuck up, but there's no denying that he was in fact busy. nevertheless, of course suguru had decorum; he covered himself up in front of the public and his family, but he really couldn't care less if his closest friends knew about what he was up to.

besides, his neck wasn't as bad as yours — he could only feel guilty as he watched you paint colour corrector and various shades of concealer on your neck, even doing the chilled spoon method; eventually giving up and settling for a scarf when they don't do the trick.

"i didn't know you were going out today," he says from the bed as you sit across the room at your mirror. "i fucked up."

"'s okay, sugu!" you smile reassuringly, contrasting the worried look on your face that spells it out for him — the sweet tone of your voice only makes suguru feel worse. "the scarf will work fine."

"i'm still sorry, baby. really."

he really isn't. but the guilt makes up for it, he thinks; he only hopes your mother doesn't catch a peek of the purple hiding beneath the fabric.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO also does not give two fucks. this man could leave the house absolutely littered in bite marks from your pearly whites — he loves looking at himself in the mirror in the morning, when you're still fast asleep, just admiring the artwork that is his body and the proof of the love you have for him on it.

this wasn't the case with the girls he used to mess around with, though. he absolutely loathed having any evidence of a woman on him, whether that be the scent of her perfume lingering on his clothes or in his apartment — or her messages appearing on his lock screen and his friends asking about it.

yet, it's different with you; but he supposes everything has been different with you. he thinks he's serious this time, about the relationship you two have — and he wants everyone to know that too, though he'll never say that out loud.

"tojiii?" you whine, arms stretching out as your eyes adjust to the sunlight that pours into the bedroom. you turn to his side of the bed, and you're not surprised when he isn't there — it's ironic. the first time you woke up in bed alone after a night with toji, you panicked and thought that he disappeared.

it's just then that your lover opens the door, duffle bag slung around his shoulder diagonally; his right shoulder hits the doorframe, almost fitting the entire width, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks when you see the hickeys on his neck.

you use your arms to push yourself up, sitting cross-legged on the sheets. "did you go out like that?"

"like what, princess?"

you smile at the name, but your lips don't part to answer — toji knows you know, but it's annoying how he acts so natural about it. he sets his bag down and his strong arms wrap around you, picking you up as if you're light as paper.

"show off," you mutter against the crook of his neck. "you need to start wearing hoodies to the gym."

toji catches a whiff of your scent and thinks you're dense for saying such a thing — he is finally proud to have someone by his side, so he might as well let everyone else know. he has to.

"not happening."

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO does cover up, but he wouldn't mind if someone saw them. he's very mature about it, really — not embarrassed in the slightest. after all, you were his wife and he was your husband. things are bound to happen between you two behind closed doors.

that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to conceal them, though. he asks to use your makeup to hide them — only to be fucked over when your shades don't match all too well. it's only then that he lets an exasperated sigh leave his lips, and you feel a hundred times guiltier.

"i'm sorry, kento," you bite down on your bottom lip out of worry. "maybe we can use the spoon?"

he shakes his head. nanami was running late, and he had to leave immediately.

"it's okay, darling," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "yaga won't be upset."

you knew gojo would tease him endlessly, and you also knew that nanami couldn't stand him. you almost tell him to stay home for a little longer so you can figure out a way to fix this.

"it's nothing to be ashamed of. we're adults," he reminds you, as if the events of last night and the evidence of said events do not. "i'll see you when i'm home?"

you sigh, middle and thumb fingers rubbing your temples. if only you were thinking straight — but you knew that was almost always impossible with kento. "okay. have a good day at work, ken."

kento plants one more kiss on your lips, and he has to pull himself away before another second passes; he always had trouble stopping himself with you.

he supposes that habit has come to bite him in the ass, now.

"thank you, sweetheart. i will."

yeah, gojo will never let him live this down.

280124 — is this ooc.

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagines #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto imagines #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami imagines #toji x reader #toji fluff #toji imagines

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month

Text

Tears II

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: You wander off at Camp Nou

Having you was the best decision Alexia ever made.

You were so sweet and little and you loved to just be in her company no matter what. It didn't matter if you were napping or playing or eating, you just always wanted to be around her.

But, having you was definitely the most stressful decision she had ever made too.

Sometimes, it was like she would turn around and you would be gone.

Sometimes, loud noises overwhelmed you and you just had to leave.

This must have been one of those times.

The locker room was upbeat and loud and Alexia turned around for just a minute to get your ear defenders.

"Mapi!" Alexia yells over the sound of the speakers," Mapi!"

"Huh? What?"

"Where's my pequeñita?"

Mapi shrugs. "I saw her by the door a few minutes ago. I think she was talking to Marta."

Alexia knows immediately that you've run off. You didn't really like talking to her teammates bar very few of them. You were more likely to talk to Caro or Irene than Marta so she knows you've made a break for it.

Her cleats echo through the halls as she goes off in search of you. You're a creature of habit at Camp Nou and Alexia knows to bypass the toilets and the densely populated areas, ducking into one of the rooms that has no lights on.

"Hey, pequeñita," Alexia coos. She spots your darkened form hiding under one of the tables. "Was it too loud?"

You sniffle and Alexia crawls under with you.

"I'm sorry," She says," But here, I've got your headphones. Shall I put them on?"

You nod miserably. The ringing in your ears is terrible but it's dampened when Mami slides your ear defenders on. You take in a big breath before you expel all your air, slumping into her side.

Her voice is muffled as she speaks but if you concentrate really hard then you can still hear her.

"Do you still want to sit on the bench and watch, pequeñita? Or do you want to stay inside and colour?"

You sniffle, wiping your face on Mami's jersey. You like watching Mami play but it's too loud a lot of the time. But this is an important match because Mami's playing at Camp Nou rather than the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

You want to watch her.

"On the bench," You say softly, knocking your head against her collarbone.

"Okay, pequeñita," Mami agrees, her cool hands slipping under your shirt to gently trace shapes on your back," Do you want to stay here a little bit longer or should we go and see the rest of the team?"

You tighten your first in her jersey. "Stay for longer."

"Okay, we'll stay for longer."

Mami's heartbeat is nice. You've got your cheek against her chest and you can feel it thumping as she picks you up after a long while of sitting under the table in the dark.

You stay pressed against it as Mami returns to the locker room.

With your ear defenders on, the sounds are all muted now and you feel like you can breathe again. Your hand opens and closes around Mami's jersey and she holds you just as tightly as you're holding her.

Irene comes up to speak to Mami and she sends you little worried looks as she talks. You're not concentrating so you don't try to focus on what she's saying. You're content to just hold onto Mami.

"Do you want to go straight to the bench or are we having cuddles all the way out onto the pitch?"

"Cuddles."

"Cuddles, it is."

The crowd at Camp Nou is very loud but you've got Mami and you've got your headphones on so none of that matters.

She holds you nice and tight all the way up to the coin toss before she walks you to the side of the pitch.

Irene's waiting for you there.

"Mami," You whine. Today has been a lot and you're regretting not staying inside. You don't want to see Mami away from you.

"I know," She says, cupping your face as you're smoothly placed in Irene's arms," But today we're going to be very brave. Okay? Can you be brave for me, pequeñita?"

"I can be brave."

"Good girl." She presses a soft kiss to your head. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

You nod.

You don't leave Irene's arms for the entirety of the match. You don't talk to her either. You just sit there, your eyes tracking Mami.

She collects you during halftime and you just relax into her, pressing your forehead up against hers as you try to match your breathing before you're returned to Irene for the rest of the match.

Once it's over, she comes straight for you.

You slump into her as she makes her way back to the locker room, changing out of her sweaty clothes. You don't want to let go of her but it's only a temporary thing and you're back in her arms again.

Your ear defenders hang around your neck as Mami carries you out to the stadium.

She clips you into your car seat.

"Do you want cuddles when we get home?"

You nod. "Cuddles and sleepy time."

Mami brushes her thumb over your cheek with a fond smile. "I like that plan."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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honeydazai · 2 months

Note

ok ok but hubby Fyodor gave me an idea, he’s figured out i get worried when his anemia gets bad so i fuss over him

imagine like,,, him using that against u. like if he’s losing an argument, or he just wants attention, he fakes sickness to get u to drop everything ur doing and come to his aid, u immediately feel bad so he uses that to manipulate u

feat.: Fyodor / reader

content: husband Fyodor, some manipulation but it's cute, Fyodor pretending to be a pathetic meow meow, fluff, sick fic

Fyodor is fragile, that much you're aware of.

Despite his quick mind, so sharp you reckon it could cut diamond, and his powerful ability, his physical body is still frail. His skin is pale, most likely since he spends too much time inside, hunched over in front of his many PC screens, providing him with no light other than the gloom of LED monitors, thin fingers tip-tapping away on the keyboard. His undereye circles are dark enough for you to seriously worry about his health, and the many blue veins visible on thin eyelids only make him appear more sickly.

The anemia doesn't help, either; thin lips occasionally turn whiteish the longer he insists he's going to take his iron supplements once he's done with work — when is he, ever? — and his nails, kept short not only for the sake of being able to play the cello, but also since he continued biting at them, are coloured blue so often you have almost forgotten what they usually look like.

Fyodor, despite being an internationally wanted terrorist, is fragile, and that's exactly why you're unable to stop the way your chest suddenly aches with concern when he goes quiet mid-argument, gaze unfocused, glassy, as he sits down on the bed.

This really isn't the time to worry about him, especially since, just a few moments ago, you were snarling at him, obviously angered for a reason that seems entirely unimportant right now — and yet you can't help it either, your concern an emotion that blooms in your chest so very naturally, given just how much he means to you.

“Are you alright?” The words leave your mouth before you know it; your brows furrowing as you kneel down next to him, one hand on his thin upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin is cold. “Do you need anything?”

“I'm quite alright, dear. I would hate to bother you, especially when you still seem to harbour disdain for me.”

Even his voice sounds frail. Guilt gnaws at your every bone.

“That's not—”, you protest, a feeble attempt, though you're quick to swallow the urge to start another argument down the moment he rests his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut, ebony lashes against snow pale skin. “I don't 'harbour disdain' . I didn't even want to fight with you, it just — happened, but that's not important now. Let me help. Did you take your meds today?”

“Not yet, I'm afraid”, Fyodor says softly, and you're up on your feet almost immediately, making your way towards the kitchen to snag the offending pills, as well as a glass of water.

“You know you're supposed to take them daily with lunch.”

“That is merely to avoid forgetting them, to build a habit. The presence or absence of sustenance has no actual effect on them.”

Your eyes narrow. Fyodor allows a tired chuckle to leave his lips.

“Alright. I will try to take them regularly — for you, dear.”

Where, just a few minutes ago, you felt the urge to slap him with wrath — not that you ever would, not that you'd dare to, but the desire certainly is there whenever he acts all high and mighty, all-knowing, even around you —, your chest now tingles with warmth, with fondness. With love.

“Thank you. Are you feeling better already?” That's to be doubted, especially since he only took the pills a moment ago. Still— “Do you need anything? Maybe something to eat — yes, I bet you haven't eaten anything in a while now, too focused on work. You're impossible. Just lie down and give me a moment, I'll be right back.”

With those words, you vanish into the kitchen, already grabbing some vegetables. A quick soup is going to have to do.

Little do you know that, while you're busy worrying and fussing over him, there's a smile playing over Fyodor's lips ever so often, vanishing the moment you enter the room once more.

You really are too easy — though that's exactly what makes you quite this lovable.

OH. Oh, he would.. he so would... this is the most in character take ever...

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wisteriaiswriting · 3 months

Note

Can you do an autistic trans(if you do that) male reader who doesn’t really get social cues but is overall pretty quiet and reserved with the people from the Hazbin hotel?

𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪

Words: 1111

𝔸𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣:

He will be unaware at first, so his first impression about you is not good. Thinks you’re being rude on purpose, but when he finds out that's not the case he’ll feel slightly bad.

For his assumptions he’ll subtly apologize by dropping presents in your room (Unnamed of course.) and lending you a helping hand.

If you two become close he will take you to his tailor to get matching suits, different colours obviously, can’t have you taking his signature colour now, can we?

***

For the first few days you’ve been at the hotel Alastor has been weirdly stand offish. Others didn’t mind, often glad he’s staying away rather than closer. But you wanted to know why, so you asked Charlie.

Who asked Alastor, to which he gracefully answered.

“Well, I don’t enjoy seeing terrible manners around the hotel, surely you don’t either?” At his words the reason for avoidance clicked in her head.

“Why didn't you say so? Well knowing you, you wouldn’t… But Y/N isn’t that good with social cues, so he doesn’t mean any of, whatever he’s been doing.”

“Oh…” At her words he left the room, finding you. “Well hello my Handsome fellow,”

“Hi?” After his most recent actions you didn’t expect him to just waltz up to you.

“Unfortunately someone has ruined my suit,” Correct, a good chunk was missing. “And hopefully you would accompany me?”

“Sure, I guess?”

“Perfect!”

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖:

She's unsurprisingly similar when it comes to social cues.

When it comes to you being autistic or trans she won’t notice, that’ll be the last thing she knows.

You two can not be left alone, someone will need to supervise you both.

***

It has been barely a week since you fell into hell and it’s been terrible. There were too many things happen that you could say or even recall, so today was meant to be relaxing. Or at least somewhat close, until someone pulled you around.

They were your only friend here, so of course you had to follow. After a few hours walking around you found you both in front of a hotel, one called the ‘Hazbin hotel.’ Excitedly knocking at the door while you watched.

Within seconds the door swung open revealing an excited blonde.

“Oh my, hi!” Pulling you both in as she spoke, which allowed you to see other people hanging around. “I’m Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Told ya you’d like it here.”

You were both aware nothing was said beforehand but you didn’t confront them. Seemed like the others knew something was up, so they had Charlie pull you away.

“Since you're new, how about a private tour of the Hazbin Hotel?”

𝕍𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖:

Compared to the other hotel residents your quietness is a surprise, but a welcome one at that.

If you ask or signal at all to her she’ll be at your side to subtly help you with social cues and anything else needed.

Especially if you’re new (Also if not) she’ll help you get masculine clothing, although she might have to get others help as she isn’t the most masculine either.

***

Charlie had just brought you to the hotel in a… not so good condition. She wasn’t sure what you went through to look like that but she knew you needed some help, and she was going to help where she could.

“Alastor, I need your help”

“Hmm?”

“You know the newbie, I have to get him some clothes. Problem is I have no clue where to go.” At her words his smile increases slightly.

“I could help, for a price…”

“Nevermind.”

While she wanted to help she wouldn’t risk anything with Alastor, maybe Angel would be better.

𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝔻𝕦𝕤𝕥:

He’s seen some shit during his time down in hell, so your actions and attitude isn’t seen as weird to him.

To a degree he’ll take advantage of you. Never anything you wouldn’t want, but to keep him safe from Vaggie or Alastor.

But only he can do it, if anyone else even tries he’ll be there to protect you.

***

“Vaggie, why would I do that?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you–”

“Doesn’t matter, I would never when Y/N is with me!”

At his words Vaggie looked down at you, finding you wrapped in Angels pairs of arms. You had a few blooming bruises around your face but otherwise seemed alright.

“Just… Don’t do it again, I don’t want to see Y/N or Charlie get mad at you.”

“Really, Y/N mad at me? Never!” One pair of hands had come up to cup your cheeks, able to leave multiple kisses. Causing Vaggie to leave quickly.

“Now, let me take care of those bruises.”

𝕊𝕚𝕣 ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤:

He’s been thrown into the same boat as you, has absolutely no understanding of social cues.

If anything the eggs make it worse, as they are somehow worse than sir pentious.

He has accidentally hurt the both of you at once somehow, no one is sure how that happened.

***

The streets didn’t seem too busy, which was weird for hell. But it might’ve been the fact you and Sir Pentious just weren’t aware of them walking. His tail was swaying dangerously behind him, knocking over any people.

During this his eggs were scattered around the both of you. Some stayed behind, in between and some strayed next to you. Which caused an even bigger barrier to form, now people had to step off the path.

ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜:

When he first meets you he won’t really care, he’s had worst people hang around.

If he’s being honest he understands and gets social cues, but majority of the time he just doesn’t care about them.

Even then he knows with your lack of awareness you’re likely to get into some unwanted trouble, so he hangs around a lot more.

***

Husk never had the heart to blame you for any trouble, he knew you never meant it. So tonight he accompanied you to a nearby bar, intending for at least a semi-nice night out. But of course someone had to ruin it.

A drunk demon decided he wanted to bother you for the night, ignoring Husk the whole time. But over time his anger rose, you weren’t even looking at him and you didn’t seem interested.

In which you weren’t, but he seemed so incessant that you spoke, even if you didn’t. His attitude quickly became clear very quickly, except you didn’t notice. As he reached for you Husk was quicker, sending a card flying into his head.

That caused everyone to start their own fights. Which gave you two the chance to leave, with minimal injuries of course. Taking the chance you both ran out, luckily no one else was waiting outside.

“We’re going back.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #angle dust x reader #hazbin hotel sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #wisteria♥

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