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churipu · 4 months

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Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

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tragedybunny · 8 months

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Sated - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has gone too long without blood and you're determined to make sure he's fed.

Astarion tries, but not everyday is a good day, and some days he’s still snappish and lashes out. The rest of your group has learned not to take it personally, in fact now that Karlach can touch people, she’s developed a nice trick of just suddenly hugging him when he’s a pain. Usually either indignant silence or grumbling compliance follows. “Behave yourself Fangs, or I’ll do it again,” the Tiefling grins at him during whatever fussing he spouts after. He’s grown fond of her, you can tell, even if he can’t yet. In a way he’s fond of them all, but Karlach’s open, kind nature has given them a bit of a sibling-like bond. Watching them interact always brings a smile to you, he needs more of that in his life, people who care for him genuinely.

Today was not the best, but you shrug it off as concern overrides all else. He’s a little paler than usual and a little slower. There wasn't much out there among the shadow curse for him to feed off. Before you never had to question how much blood he needed to survive or where it would come from. But as you leave the formerly cursed land behind, you can tell he’s struggling. And yet, he hasn’t asked you about it. The one he’s supposed to trust more than anyone else. You’ve fed him plenty of times before, you would think he’d have come to you by now. Mentally, you scold yourself as you feel creeping insecurity. There has to be a reason for it, and now isn’t the time for selfish suspicion.

That night, as everyone settles themselves around a fire, contemplating what the road to Baldur's Gate holds, you find him seated at the edge of the flickering light, as far away as he can get without being in the shadows. Could he be worried he might find himself tempted if he’s too close to everyone? This can’t continue, you tell yourself, not only for the sake of his suffering, but you can’t be sure he wouldn’t be tempted either.

Grabbing a blanket from your shared tent, you take a seat beside him, wrapping it around both of you. “You feeling alright Starry Sky?” Gently, you wrap an arm around him, and feel the icy chill of his skin beneath his shirt. Not that his skin is ever all that warm, but this another level.

“Just tired,” he smiles weakly at you.

“And freezing,” your other hand reaches up to stroke his cheek lightly.

Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. “You know, I don’t even really feel it. I’m not sure if I need to be warm at all.”

“Hmm, even if you can’t feel it, you know why you’re freezing.” Leaning over you whisper to him, some things aren’t meant to include the others. “You’re hungry.”

“Perhaps a little, but I’m fine. I don't need you to start fussing over me constantly. There's an owlbear cub if you feel overtly maternal." The sharp words don't change the dark circles under his eyes, or how gaunt his cheeks look.

"You're ridiculously obstinate, you know that right," a gentle kiss on his temple follows your words, so he knows you're not actually being cross with him. You’ve come to realize he can’t stand it when he thinks you’re mad at him. In the past, anger meant reprisal, punishment, and in the context of the two of you, punishment could only mean withdrawing your affection. At least that’s where his thoughts lead.

"It is one of my better qualities," he leans over, head resting against your chest.

Shifting, you position yourself so he's seated between your legs, easier to let him rest his weight on you. "I don't know why you don't just ask me. My blood not good enough for your refined palate anymore?" Laughing, you try to mask the actual hurt that's creeping in. The truth is letting him feed from you has always felt like an important part of your relationship, the time when you’re closest to him.

It's been a long journey and a few of your group are already wandering to bed, although you think you hear Shadowheart muttering about saving it for the tent, whatever she said, Gale laughs it off. “Not at all,” he’s uncharacteristically serious, “I just…” he sighs, for once at a loss for words, “it seemed like a lot to ask from you, after everything else.”

“Everything else?” Lips leave light kisses on the top of his head as you brush your fingers through his hair.

“You know, lying to you, manipulating you, wanting you to still love me after all that. If I asked to feed from you, it would seem like I was trying to use you again.” Catching one of your hands, he kisses it and doesn’t let go.

For a moment you don’t know how to respond, you’re still not entirely used to seeing the softer, sincere side of him. “I see why you would think that, but I don’t want you to suffer. Let me take care of you, any way I can. That’s what I’m here for. Well, that and teaching you to be less of a stubborn arse it would seem.”

“Stop, you’re being entirely too sweet to me. It’s going to ruin my reputation around camp.” You let him have his moment of deflection and wait until he makes a frustrated noise. “But I can’t say I don’t want to.”

“Take what you need love,” you reach up to undo your collar and pull the blanket more securely around the two of you for privacy. A part of you considers moving to the tent, but you’re worried he’d use the opportunity to try to put it off more.

With a soft sigh, his lips press to your neck in a delicate kiss, teeth piercing your skin moments later. Pain and ecstasy course through you as you hold back a sigh. The two of you become one in that instant, bound through blood to the singular beating heart you now share, intimacy unparalleled. While he drinks, you fight to stay lucid enough to whisper to him of love and comfort, reassuring him that needing this from you is no sin. You feel your own warmth traveling into his skin, and you watch it take on a blush of life.

Before your world turns hazy, he pulls away, licking you clean, and returning his head to your chest, content to be held tightly. "I didn't take too much, did I?"

"No, you were perfectly careful dearest." The words bring a small smile to his lips, praise so new an experience for him, he hardly knows how to handle it. But you know he craves it, especially from you, and it makes you want to lavish it on him.

The others have vanished, a small part of you worries they noticed and were uncomfortable, but you hope they would understand as your friends. You two should join them soon, Baldur's Gate awaits, with a journey there still ahead. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“A few more minutes love,” somehow he manages to snuggle tighter against you, “I did miss this.”

“Me too, don’t wait so long next time. I’m always here for you.”

“There you go, being too nice to me again, silly girl.” Sitting up a bit he kisses you, fiercely, lips crashing together bruisingly, hands reaching to tangle in your hair, like a first and a last kiss all bound up in one and it leaves you gasping when he’s done. It’s as though he’s trying to express everything he feels in that one kiss. “I might get used to it if you’re not careful.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #my fanfiction #my writing

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barbiiecams · 26 days

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baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.

now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.

“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.

this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.

“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.

he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.

but we can’t help who we like, right?

he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”

and he just continues.

“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”

“keep taking it baby, know you can.”

“let go baby, cum all over it.”

as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.

“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.

“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.

his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”

“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.

“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”

“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”

he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.

“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”

right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.

after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.

—

the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.

taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.

not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.

“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”

now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.

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undercoverpena · 8 months

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home and the ghost mug

simon “ghost” riley x reader (cod)

this is unedited, and born from a random thought as I put away dishes and cleaned my kitchen at 1am. warnings: none. themes: fluff, cute mug moment, ghost and a non-military partner. just toothrotting 1am thoughts.

you don’t like to think you live alone, but you know you spend more time waiting, than you have with him.

this time it’s been months. the last contact weeks ago. it’s normal, but it doesn’t lessen the frustration you feel—or how it balls and clumps with worry.

you know you signed on to this. married yourself to the wondering and standing by when you bought the house with him. it’s why you’ve perfected the art of keeping busy, remaining distracted.

today, your mind slips. falls down on the job, scrapes the skin from your knees and bruises your heart. thoughts appearing, the faint sound of his gruff voice echoing in the walls. unable to unsee the shadow of his last time here—how broad he appears in your door frames.

it’s the slip up that means you unconsciously make a tea for yourself in his mug. a no-go, a thing you never do. the cup sacred, forever off limits unless he’s here. the one you’d bought as a joke, wrapped it in paper and watched him stare at it when he unveiled the skull on the side with the bone handle.

“this bought for me?”

“well, it’s not for next door, simon.”

suddenly, you don’t fancy tea. your heart aching, all heavy and downtrodden in your chest. so you pour it away, washing it out and putting it away quickly. because you know it’ll sting seeing it on the drainer in the morning. practically punch you in the gut—because your mind will trick itself into thinking he’s home. that he’s back. for whatever time he can spare.

by the time his car pulls onto the drive, the house is coated in darkness. the moon full, high in the sky. shimmering a luminescent glow on everything and anything it can touch.

you must be tired, shattered. no murmur of his name or quickened footsteps when he slides his key on the lock, when he takes his boots off. he does do it with precision, care—almost mouse like for a man that’s more mountain than man. shoving them away in the contraption you bought sometime between the two of you moving in and him coming back to you.

and because the house is quiet, silent. a pin being dropped sounding like a shout, he begins his routine. the one where he shoves the things away he doesn’t need to have. not needing reminders of what he does as ghost when he’s trying to focus on being simon.

his routine concludes with a shower in the downstairs guest bathroom, watching the places he’s just been slide down the plug hole, all out of sight, out of mind. you know this routine, keeping some of his casual clothes—sweats and tees in a drawer, for moments like this.

even if he should expect it by now, he still smiles as your genuineness. your kindness. the one that comes ti you with ease.

it’s why he craves being next to you, being able to hear your breaths—close his eyes and allow the evidence to bury the niggling worries he amasses when he’s not with you.

but, joining you isn’t possible. discovering you star-fished, snoring lightly—one of his t-shirts covering and concealing you. practically burying you. and so he closes the door, heads back downstairs. running a hand over the back of his head, feeling clumps of long and short hair from his bad diy cut you’ll undoubtedly have things to say about.

but it isn’t until he’s walking past the kitchen, does he notice the mug and glass cupboard ajar. a thought appearing, his hand retrieving his mug and placing it on the side. a sign, he hopes—a bold exclamation that he is home, in case you wake before him.

you don’t wake before him. simon and fucked up body clock, as usual, wakes at the first break of sunlight. only rising from the guest bed when he hears the floorboards above. your feet eventually coming down the staircase, all slow and heavy, his mind imagining you rubbing your eyes, softly sighing at another day.

he waits in the doorway—the one connecting the guest bedroom to the kitchen—watching you come to a standstill, eyes blinking as you stare at the mug.

simon doesn’t know the error you made yesterday, that you’re going through a crisis of whether you’d put it away or not. whether you’d lost your mind from missing him so much.

he just knows you’re not reacting. not whispering, never mind shouting his name. so he clears his throat, loud, purposeful.

and your head spins—he’s even pretty sure he hears it crack—and then the reaction he expected lands.

it erupts over your face. an explosion of confusion and joy, tear-filled eyes and a large smile, before you’re in his arms, face buried against his chest as he feels you shake with sobs he hopes are because you’re happy.

“take it you’re happy i’m home?”

“more than you think.”

his chin comes to rest on the top of your head, fingers stroking up and down your back.

the mug becomes a sign, a beacon.

it only ever used to indicate he was home—a trophy that remains on the side, until he gets the call that he has to go.

then he is the one to put it away, hating how he turns to always find your lips being chewed by your teeth.

“it’ll be back out before you know it.”

“it better be.”

simon doesn’t promise. because he knows—as do you—that there’s none he can keep in the games he plays. he comforts you without words, his mouth slanted over yours.

I’ll always fight to get home to you.

#ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod x you #mwii x reader #ghost x you #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mwii #cod mw2 ghost

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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Teen!Reader finding Alastor all beaten and bruised after the finale and getting worried, insisting in patching him up, etc, while Alastor during the entire time is having a moment of realization like "oh, this kid ACTUALLY cares about me"

(This is platonic obviously, reader sees him like a weird older brother/father figure and looks up to him idk)

I love it. Simple, enjoyable and to be honest, we’ll just pretend Alastor had his sick solo in the finale before we showed up and I suppose Al will be quite unhinged and aggressive in this state so goddamn. Also, my second time writing about the finale

Platonic! Alastor- Reaching Out

“You son of a bitch, I am trying to help you!” You growl out, now half-wrestling with the Radio Demon himself, after his lose battle against Adam. Whilst Adam has been finally defeated at Lucifer’s hand then killed at Niffty’s knife. It’s clear as crystal that Alastor isn’t taking his own defeat well at all. He’s aggressive, completely lost his usual charismatic, well-mannered demeanour, he’s breaking down and barking at you to back off as you’re still trying to pry his own hands off the visible red bleeding wound over his chest

You’ve found this retreating deer out of pure luck and now, you’re acting on your compassion for him to try make the process of healing less painful for him

You’re the only Hazbin Hotel staff member that actually treated Alastor more than an annoyance standing there. He isn’t the best guy at there, never. No, but he isn’t as bad as Vaggie or Husk claim he is. However, right now, he’s boiling your blood with how much he is refusing to let you even touch him, despite the fact he needs to be patched up. He’s low on power, his cane is snapped in half, he’s limited and requires help

“I don’t need your help, Leitora!” Alastor barks back in possibly the most unhinged way you’ve ever seen, basically backing into a wall. He can’t even notice how worried you actually are, how you’re getting frustrated because you’re worried and you’re the only one who has been looking for and have found Alastor whilst everybody else is celebrating the victory over Adam. You’re the one looking for and now looking out for the man you actually find quite nice. He isn’t as patronising to you, for whatever reason, Alastor’s decent and it’s almost like he wants to be some type of figure in your life with how he behaves

“Stay still before you bleed yourself to unconsciousness, you narcissistic edible piece of shit!” You only say this so cruelly, sharp and half loud as to put Alastor into his place, prove to him you’re not backing down whilst you finally win the half wrestling session you have with the weakened and distressed Overlord, already beginning to check around for the entire length of the wound and use what little excess fabric your current clothing has to make a makeshift bandage for this wound

This is surprising, you’re possibly two times his age. A teenager, if not 15-16 at the oldest upon your human death and you’re acting more mature than the biologically 34 year old. Alastor just stayed quiet, tall fluffy deer-like ears still pinned back and suffering through the intense pain. He wouldn’t admit that he is quite grateful that somebody is around but at the same time, he doesn’t want to get attached to any soul

It took him a proper glance at the cute young sinner he found it fun to playfully tease, mock and behave like a clingy overprotective big brother to piss off, that they genuinely care for him. That they aren’t lying or pretending as to get something out of him like he suspects everybody in the Hotel, including Charlie, is

This is so much different than he suspected, he was believing he’d be going back to his radio tower to vent out his rage at being smacked in the face of such a pathetic opponent

Ending up being the pathetic opponent. He hates showing his weakness and he can barely keep himself from snapping but he also can feel his racking nerves ease up a bit at this strong, confident yet sweet and compassionate kid trying to take care of him when they have no actual requirement to do so

Alastor takes a few more seconds to think and speak, not even realising he was sat down by you as he was thinking frantically about how his own mischievous and mocking behaviour as some type of surrogate brother for you was more than just something down to see your reactions for his own amusement, he does feel some type of family-based affections for you

Now, that affection has been bumped up even more. He definitely owns you a lot for caring about him like some surrogate little sibling when all he does for you is annoy you. He doesn’t even know that you actually look up to him like some type of family figure… so, the familiar feelings are mutual

“Fuck… can you just be careful with the coat? This is my treasure”

(A/N: Real quick. Leitora means ‘Reader’ in Portuguese, this’ll be our name for any none anime posts. There’s two versions; Leitora as the feminine version and Leitor as the masculine version. You can use either for us! I got this from Google Translate)

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talaok · 3 months

Text

His favorite patient

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: Your friend Pedro takes care of you while you're sick, and he's such a good doctor, that something sparks between the two of you.

warnings: reader being sick and having a fever (?) and my shitty writing cause im tired

(this was a request, and a very beautiful one too)

All you had done was text him that you were sick, and the next thing you knew, he was knocking at your door.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part, the weirdest part was that you weren't surprised, because that's how Pedro was, caring, protective, and always there for you, no matter what.

The first thing he'd done as you opened the door was scolding you for even being up, and consequently, the second was ushering you to your own couch and forcing you to sit down.

You laughed the whole time at how worried he was, but then again, your genuine gratitude shined through with his every act, a gentle smile and a "thank you" spilled out of your lips the moment he made you tea, or wrapped you up in a blanket, or pulled you into his chest when the cover stopped being enough.

You remained like that, hiding in his arm while watching tv for the whole afternoon, but unfortunately, after he'd made you some soup (which you had tried convincing you could cook on your own) and ate it with you, it was time for him to go.

So with a heavy heart and a final hug, he was gone... only to return 2 minutes later.

"Missed me already?" you joked, opening the door again

"Always" he smiled, before getting more serious "I have a problem with my car" he explained "It's not turning on, and I-" he scratched the back of his neck, trailing off "I kind of have no way of getting home"

"oh" you breathed, understanding the situation "You can just stay here" You shrugged, the solution obvious in your eyes

"Are you sure? I don't wanna be a burden or anythin-"

"a burden?" you frowned, stunned "What are you talking about Pedro, you could never be a burden" you promised, inviting him in again "and plus... I feel safer with my own personal doctor here with me" you grinned playfully

"yeah?" he laughed "Well then how could I refuse to help my favorite patient?"

"Favorite?" you gasped, feigning flatter as your right hand went to your heart "You're gonna make me blush doctor"

He snorted at that, his eyes lingering on yours for a second too long.

"Well then, the doctor's ordering bed rest"

You scowled at him, rolling your eyes

"I'm already starting to regret my decision" you muttered, but in no time, you were laid beneath the covers, ready to go to sleep.

"Ok then you're all set, I'll go prep the couch" he said, starting for the door

"what?" you asked

"the couch, I need to-"

You stopped him before he could go on

"You're not sleeping on the couch Pedro" you stated, watching his brows frown "It's uncomfortable as hell" you explained "and there's enough room here for the both of us" Your eyes went to the empty spot beside you

"Oh- no, y/n I can't"

"yes, yes you can" you interrupted him again "And you will" you decided "I'm sick, so that means you have to do whatever I tell you"

"sweetheart..."he sighed, glaring at you

"please" you pouted, "It would make me feel better knowing you're close to me" you pleaded, your best puppy eyes on you.

And what could Pedro do but not agree when you were looking at him like that? He was only a man after all.

"alright" he grumbled, "but I hope you know that means you'll have to hear me snore the whooole night"

But as it turns out, you didn't.

Your fever started going up the moment you shut off the lights, you turned and tossed the whole night, while him... he stayed up with you, checking your fever, giving you medicine and placing wet cold cloths on your forehead, until finally... you started feeling better and began drifting off... if only, of course, those damned church bells hadn't rung.

But even then, Pedro was there, placing his hands on your ears to try and protect you from the noise, and once they stopped, once he had gotten a taste of how good it felt to stay so close to you, well then he didn't have it in him to lean away, so he did the opposite: he put his arm around you and pulled you close, gently whispering "You need to rest", before inevitably, you did as told.

And it was only the morning after that you remembered all of it, it was only once you woke up, his arm still reassuringly around you, his words still reverberating in your ear, that you realized everything.

"good morning" he murmured, his head nestled into your neck

"morning" you smiled, your voice hoarse as you turned around to look at him, finding him but an inch from your face... and yet he didn't lean away.

"thank you" you whispered "for everything"

"darling I'm always gonna be here for you, whatever you need"

You smiled wide, watching his eyes fall to your lips

"stop it" you murmured

"stop what?" he laughed

"being so nice"

"why?" he asked, smiling

You bit your lip, pondering if saying what you wanted to say really was a good idea... but then again, it was the truth, so...

"'cause you're making me want to kiss you"

"'s that right?" he smirked, inching closer

"mh-mh"

"and what's stopping you?"

"I don't want you to get sick" you said, watching him huff a laugh

"sweetheart" he shook his head, grinning brightly "I would catch a thousand colds if it meant I got to kiss you"

And although your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't help but laugh out a quick "that's disgusting", before his lips finally met with yours.

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ddarker-dreams · 4 months

Text

Wanderer x Reader.

just a lil something for the birthday boy <33333333333333333

Atop the tallest tree in Sumeru City, you sit thigh to thigh with your favorite Vahumana student. Your legs dangle over the wide branch’s edge, where you happily swing them back and forth, your spirit as high as your altitude.

This enthusiasm isn’t mutual. Your companion’s in a fouler mood than usual, thanks to ‘that tedious busybody’ (aka Lesser Lord Kusanali) and a ‘ridiculous bleeding heart’ (aka you). Despite his many colorful complaints, he brought you along to one of his favorite spots. He didn’t drop you like he threatened to either! You’re grateful for every second you’ve gotten to spend not being a mangled splat on the ground.

“We’re in the nation of wisdom,” You gesticulate wildly to the civilization beneath you. “Knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded.”

There’s a deep sigh to your left.

“You’re incessant.”

“I have to be, or I’d know nothing about you.”

“Hah!” He barks a sardonic laugh, “Would that be so terrible?”

Without hesitation, you respond, “Yes.”

The Wanderer crosses his arms over his chest, unconvinced. Fortunately, if there’s anything you excel at, it’s proving points that aren’t worth the effort of proving.

“Consider this! If, during your many passionate attempts at courting me—”

(“A mistake, no doubt,” he chimes in, which you pointedly ignore).

“—I never learned anything besides the fact you go by a noun and are unfairly pretty, you wouldn’t have succeeded in wooing me. Where would you be then, hm? Brooding in some dark corner, downing bottles of cheap liquor, lamenting what could’ve been but never was? Have you ever considered that?”

“I'm considering it now. Enviously, at that.”

The Wanderer snickers at the pained countenance you adopt. You both know that’s a lie. Perhaps he’s tried to convince himself it isn’t, but that’s a him problem. If your attention was a drug, he’d be an addict; hence the integrity of your not-splatted body.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Nonetheless, my point stands. Relationships are about vulnerability. Communication. An open channel that extends both ways,” your plea doesn’t move him. So, you switch to another tactic. “C’mon. Throw me a bone here. Just an itsy bitsy teeny little bone.”

The Wanderer’s eyebrows pinch together, his lips set in a thin line. Incandescent indigo eyes consider you. Persistent as you can be, you’ve never pushed the subject of his past. You can read him like a gauge and know the instant to back off. If he genuinely wanted you to let this go, you would’ve. Sometimes he just likes being fussed over.

“Why do you want to know how old I am?”

And here you arrive at the heart of the matter — his birthday. Which, without the involvement of a certain benevolent Archon, would’ve come and gone unbeknownst to you. The Wanderer couldn’t care less about the special day if he tried. While his ‘birth’ may not have been the traditional kind, it’s no less significant to you.

Your Wanderer, your beloved Kunikuzushi, has been a permanent fixture in recent memory. Wherever you go, he isn’t far behind. He stands up for you when you don’t have the heart to say no, challenges your thoughts as much as you challenge his, and is earnest in every pursuit he deems worth the effort. You adore him. As such, you consider it your personal mission to express this sentiment whenever possible.

“It’s simple,” you explain. “You need a kiss for each year. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

The Wanderer looks at you like you just spoke another language. “What sort of rule is that?”

“The only kind worth following.”

He studies you carefully. You might be good at reading him, but he’s masterful at reading you. A true connoisseur. He knows when you’re lying to yourself before you even know. The concentration on his face relaxes into something amused, almost impish.

Uh oh.

His shoulders shake as he chuckles at a joke you apparently aren’t in on.

“Ah, you should’ve led with that,” he’s grinning now, contentment rolling off him in waves. His hand brushes over your collarbones, then your neck, finally settling on your chin. Transfixed by his beauty, you stay still as his face creeps closer. “If the earliest records from that place are to be believed, I’m around 500.”

You squint.

“Like… five with two zeros at the end…?”

“If basic arithmetic is to be believed, yes.”

“... Oh wow, that’s a lot of kisses.”

The Wanderer’s iris’ gleam.

“Brilliant deduction,” he rolls his eyes. Then, his wicked grin sharpens, his head tilting to the side in challenge. “Well? I’m waiting. Get to work. And don’t worry — I’ll keep count.”

Overcoming your initial shock, you press your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. Before he can reciprocate in kind, you pull back, enjoying the frustration this causes. His eyes narrow into a menacing glare. To soothe the irritation you’ve caused, you kiss his hand, gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes as you do so.

Involuntary shivers claim his body.

Wordlessly, you stare at one another. Anticipation thrums in the air.

And then you’re upon one another once more — where you remain until the count reaches zero.

#writing for him is like an antidote for the soul #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche brainrot #my stuff

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hadesrise · 11 months

Text

heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

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mcondance · 5 months

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listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 17+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear your go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

#this was so hot #love u nonny #stu macher smut #stu matcher x reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x black!reader #stu macher x black reader #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #stu smut #[manipulative stu]

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truetogaia · 11 months

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mihihi hes so prettyboy

# pairing: bill kaulitz x gn!reader

# genre: fluff

# notes: back in my th era... watch out.. Anyway, this is just a fluff drabble of reader taking care of Bill before a show!! not proofread

# wc: ab 600

TOKIO HOTEL MASTERLIST I REQUESTS OPEN

“Please, Bill, stop moving. I’m being so serious I am literally about to stab your eye out.” You carefully blew some eyeshadow residue from his cheekbones, pulling away from his face with a deep sigh. “I don’t think your crazy fangirls would appreciate a `pirate Bill era´ all too much”

His hands rested on your hips as you straddled his lap, rubbing gentle circles with the pads of his thumbs as you worked restlessly to apply his eye makeup for the upcoming show. His black hair was disheveled, looking like he had been struck by lightning multiple times. But oh, how charming it was.

“It tickles though..” Your tense features relaxed into a soft smile as he spoke, your heart swelling with love at his German accent. His face, however, wore a puzzled expression as you gazed into his brown eyes. They glimmered and swirled like honey in the warm light seeping in through the windows of the dressing room. “Was? Did you mess up the eyeliner?” He questioned, quirking his eyebrow.

“Nono! It looks great!” You snapped back into reality, shaking your head and bringing a hand up to tuck some loose strands away. You could sense his nervousness, the way his hands fiddled restlessly with the fabric of your jeans, the way his eyes darted across your features and the furniture simultaneously, the way he subconsciously gnawed at his bottom lip, “Oh, don’t worry Bill, you’ll do great. You always do.” You offered him a reassuring smile. It was genuine, he could tell.

“But last time, I almost fell off the stage! AND I had a voice crack halfway through a song!” He whined, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly rested his head against your chest.

“Would you stop whining and look at me so I can finish the makeup?” You sighed, placing the palm of your hands against his forehead, which was still lodged into your sternum, to give it a gentle push. He finally sat up straight again, a pout adorning his soft lips until his gaze locked on your shirt.

“Hey, wait a minute… isn't this my shirt?” He quirked a brow, looking up at you with a curious expression.

“Noooo.. I have no clue what you’re talking about Bill. I guess your memory.. or sight.. or something, must’ve been all scrambled from all the stress!” You gently twirled a strand of his hair around your finger, placing it behind his ear before hopping off his lap to place a kiss to his cheek. “Anyway, I’m gonna go now. I’m actually not even allowed in here, the staff was just so considerate and cooperative.”

“Did you threaten to sue them for emotional abuse?”

“That was one time! Plus, I didn’t need to, nobody can resist my charm.” He chuckled at your antics, smiling lovingly at you as you made your merry way to the door of his dressing room, leaning against it as your hand held the knob. “You’ll do great, I promise. Just take some deep breaths, yeah?” You were halfway out the door already when he spoke up.

“Wait baby, you didn’t finish my makeup..” You didn’t bother to turn around, only waving your hand in the air.

“You were getting too distracted, Bill. I saw the way you were staring at my neck, I’m going to get one of your stylists just stay put.”

He groaned as your figure disappeared out the door, turning around in his chair. A deep sigh escaped him before he whispered, to himself.

“Whatever, there’s nothing wrong with admiring your own work.”

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #fluff #devilish #tokio hotel edits #tokio hotel fanfics #bill kaulitz edits #tokio hotel imagine #bill kaulitz imagines #2007 bill kaulitz #2008 bill kaulitz

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average-cosmopolitan · 1 year

Text

Cyno Content bc there’s not enough Sub Cyno on this site

This is literally just my horny ramblings but I do plan to release a genuine Cyno fic soon I promise. ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW PRETTY HE IS ANF DJDBDBDBDHEBSLS—

Flirting with him in public will always end badly because this man could say the dirtiest shit with the straightest face and most dead tone imaginable. This is one battle you are not winning I’m sorry 🙏

On the flip side, dirty talking in private when you can actually feel him and and squeeze his waist and thighs while you do it and MMM I swear he would get so flustered. He would try to hide it but he can’t help the little gasps that escape his lips when you suddenly grip his thighs tight and pull them apart.

As for his.. choice in clothing, I don’t think he’s actually trying to rile you up on purpose… it’s just a nice side effect to having HIS WHOLE FUCKING CHEST EXPOSED SHDBDB. He deals with really hot weather so you can’t blame him, but that does mean you get the right to feel him up when no one’s looking.

Going on a desert expedition with him just to play with his cute lil nipples at night when you’re supposed to be asleep. Him complaining that you’ll both be tired tomorrow because of this. Squirming and complaining but not making any move to stop you.

It would take so long to break him down (kind of like Xiao) but when you finally do it’s so rewarding. Fucking him for hours nonstop until he doesn’t have the mental capacity to make his stupid jokes (because yes he will still make the stupid jokes even as you fuck him silly.)

Getting a “W-Wai—AAGH~~!” Or a “C-can’t- hnngh- I” from him would be just UGHDBRDB

Please. Please blindfold this man. For the love of all that is holy. He’s always working so hard, he needs the chance to relinquish control and let someone take care of him. He's a little nervous about it at first (combat brain, you always want to be able to see) but soon enough he’ll be such a good little pillow princess!

if you don’t though, he’d be so dutiful about whatever you ask him to do. Suck your cock? His mouth is open wide. Eat you out? Of course, he’s ready for you. Beg? On his knees, looking at you through thick lashes, pretty words spilling from his lips. Don’t cum yet? He’ll do his best… but you’re just too good at this, please don’t make him wait too long!

Once you make him a drooling and whining mess, though, have a little mercy on him. He can barely think, let alone listen to what you’re telling him.

In the morning, please pin him to the bed and don’t let him up. He WILL try to leave at the crack ass of dawn, and he WILL try to make you breakfast while his legs are still shaky and giving out.

He’ll learn to let you take care of him eventually, but it’ll take a little while. <3

honorable note: The difference between Aether and Cyno having their midsections exposed is that Cyno had a valid reason. Aether is just a whore who likes showing off his waist. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #sub genshin #sub genshin x dom reader #sub!genshin #sub genshin men #.sub genshin impact #sub cyno #sub/dom

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jvnluvr · 1 year

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“you’re warm, c’mere.” — blue lock boys ♡

when the blue lock boys take care of you when you’re sick.

ft. sae, kaiser, rin & isagi x f!reader

author’s note: OH MY LORD I FINALLY FINISHED THIS ! i‘m writing this while i’m in immense pain so this idea came through !! we went from like 400 to 700 in two weeks so one omfg how?? and second of all thank u all i love u sm from the bottom of my heart ♡ i'm still working on requests sadly,, hopefully i can finish them soon and i'm also thinking of releasing a fic,, but anyways enjoy the fluff ♡

itoshi sae:

to be honest, if you were in the decline of becoming more and more sick, sae wouldn’t be able to notice. he was just away from your house too much to be able to see your health slowly going down the drain. so the day you are physically unable to get out of bed, is coincidentally the same day sae’s practice runs extremely late. he’s almost jogging home, not wanting to worry you.

but when he opens the door to your shared home, he’s confused when all the light are still off, and everything seems untouched. “[name]? where are you?” and still, there was no response. his first instinct is to check your bedroom, because maybe you had just fallen asleep early this time around. so when sae slowly opens the door and sees you sitting there, eyes barely open and dark, hair disheveled and drinking water out of a tiny cup, his heart cracks.

“sweetheart,, what happened?” he closes the door behind him, going across to sit next to you. sae pats your hair down, giving you a hug so you can sniffle in his chest. “mm, think i came down a fever or somethin’, it was really bad when i woke up today. but you left early.” sae quite genuinely felt bad for not noticing, what kind of boyfriend doesn't realize? all while he's mentally shaming himself, you let out a loud (but still cute) sneeze, catching him out of his thoughts.

"sorry.. was practice okay?" you murmured, pulling the blanket back onto your now half warm body. he leans over you as you’re now tucked back into bed, looking at the way your cheeks are clearly flushed red and the faintest difference in the way you’re breathing, struggling. sae feels even worse looking at you now, so he finally realizes that he should do whatever he can to help you feel comfortable.

he removes his jacket, setting it on the bed as he goes out to the kitchen to make you some of your favourite food, not forgetting to bring the medicine that for some reason is all the way at the end of the cupboard. he sets it down all on a little tray, carefully walking towards your room once again where sae still sees you laying down in the same position from when he left the room.

"hmhmmm, mi amor, time to eat." sae hums at you, continuing the soft melody as puts the tray on the nightstand next to your bed, once again leaning over you; but this time he takes the cover off of you slowly, giving a soft smile towards your face as he sees how peaceful you look. “he estado pensando en ti.” (i’ve been thinking about you.) in his head, he thinks it’s stupid, the fact that he’s confessing what’s he’s felt to your unconscious self.

maybe it’s just an subconscious choice he always had in him, but something special about itoshi sae was confessing his love to you when you couldn’t hear him. maybe because he didn’t want to be embarrassed, or it was much easier like this. nonetheless, he doesn’t mind showing you affection in moments like these when you really need him.

his eyes widen in surprise when you turn around with a smile on your face, slowly opening your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbows. “pienso en ti también.” you giggled, still feeling the hoarseness in your throat. a visible dust of red scatters across his cheeks as his eyes gaze away, still gently rubbing your hair as he encourages you to eat what he made you. “i love you, okay? now please eat instead of staying under those covers all day.” sae lightly smiles.

michael kaiser:

like sae, kaiser is also way too busy with matches during the neo egoist league, so he’s barely home. he’s up at dawn and comes back way after you’ve fallen asleep. he tries to text you every now and then, also checking on you when he comes home before he goes to sleep beside you. but perhaps he had gotten so busy that he forgot to check on you the past couple of days, and that’s when your fever erupted.

you and kaiser can both be a little.. silly at times. how does this come into your being sick? well one day when kaiser comes home, expecting to maybe see you passed out on the couch or being welcome by a dark home, he sees you lying flat on the floor. at first he laughs at you, thinking this must be some kind of dumb prank you wanted to pull on him, but once you start whimpering in pain, he’s immediately at your side.

“okay my love, why the hell are you on the ground and what’s going on?” he’s sitting in front of you, trying to put his arms under your shoulders as he lifts you up to sit in front of him. oh, it all hits kaiser like a truck once he realizes. how could he not? your face is red, eyes are swollen, and you can barely even sit up on your own. you probably would have collapsed right back into the same spot if it weren’t for him holding you up.

“everything… hurts..” you’re barely able to sigh out. your head falls down, and kaiser swears his heart is aching at the sight. he’s already lifting you up into his arms and taking you to your room, where he lets you lie down for a bit while he almost sprints into the washroom to start a bath for you. if anything, he wants you to be relaxed right now.

“michael..” your voice is hoarse as you call out to him, kind of in a daze as you try and get up. he comes back out, reassuring that he hasn’t left your side. “i’m right here, baby. started something for ya.” he puts your arm around his shoulder as he helps you walk a couple of steps to the bathroom.

kaiser only really bothers to take off your shirt because he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable having to take off everything. he helps you sit down in the tub, and he joins you as well, sitting right across from you. he made sure to put some nice smelling soap to help you relax while extending his arms to rub some on your face.

“why didn’t you tell me you were falling ill, liebe?” he questions, not really expecting you to answer because he knew you were tired. “mm? didn’t wanna worry you ‘cause you’ve been so busy..” you reply, keeping your eyes closed. “you know i would drop practice to take care of you, right?” he explains, and internally you were well aware of it. it just didn’t stop you from not wanting kaiser to worry about it. so you let out a little hum in acknowledgement.

“i know what you’re thinking, but too bad. i’m staying at home with you now until you’re all better again.” he retorts, and you know he’s being more than just serious when he says that. “mikka, really? you don’t have to.” you quietly murmur, moving your hands up from the water. “yeah, says the one who was face flat on the floor when i walked in. you almost gave me a heart attack!” you let out a tiny giggle from that, not really remembering how you got there. “my turn to take care of you.” kaiser finally says, holding your hand in his as he has plans to pamper you to the fullest.

itoshi rin:

it’s when rin walked into your shared apartment when he saw you sprawled out across the couch. clearly, you weren’t okay, so his eyebrows furrowed deeply seeing you in such a condition. he walked over to you, looming over your frail figure as a pained reflection fills his eyes.

“rin..? why are you standing over me like that..?” you asked in a shocked but still quiet voice. as you tried to push yourself up with your elbows, rin crouched down as he pushed you back onto the couch gently.

“y’know as much as i love you, and i’m saying this in the nicest context possible, but you look like shit.”

your eyes widen for a second, but then you start to let a laugh out until you’re profusely coughing, causing rin to pick you up and sit you in his lap facing him. “i’m gonna get you sick rin, let me get off..” you try and get away from him; you really do. but he’s just as, if not more stubborn than you are, keeping his hands firmly planted on your waist.

he puts his hand on your forehead, his eyes showcasing more worry than before. “quit jumping, you’re burning up a lot. when did this even start?” you glance away, not wanting to tell him the truth, but rin is quick to catch on to even the most subtle of moves. so he grabs your chin to turn you back to him, looking for an answer in you eyes.

"you better tell me." he warns, brushing your hair out of your face, softly caressing your cheek right after that, urging you to give him an honest answer. “seriously, what’s gotten into you…” you blush away at his affection. usually he doesn’t pry you this much for information, no matter what has happened. but the way his eyes gaze all over, you can tell he’s genuinely worried. rin would be terrified if something bad had happened to you.

“okay, just c’mere please.” you’re already quite close to him, but you know he means to let him envelop his arms around you as you both lie down on the couch again. however this time, he’s there to make sure you can sleep peacefully; with no distractions and that if something does happen or if there’s something you need, rin is able to do it for you.

so as soon as he hears your light little snores as you quietly shuffle in his arms to get comfortable, he slowly releases his grip from you and gives you more space on the couch. really, he does wish that he could just hold you in his arms forever, (not that he would voice that want out loud, ever.) but he wanted to help around the house and get you some medicine, food and set up stuff to raise your spirits.

getting the medicine is easy, plus rin learned how to cook at a young age. he just.. didn’t really know what to do to help you feel emotionally better about this whole sick thing. he’s thinking about while he stands over the stove, slowing zoning out trying to think of something. but as quick as he was to zone out, was snapped back into reality when he heard your very obvious, groggy voice calling out his name.

“rin.. what are you doing..? why’d you leave..?” he kind of panicked at that moment, he wanted anything but for you to wake up and see what he was doing. “just uh.. was making some food for you.” he curtly said, lowkey embarrassed that you saw him doing something so… romantic for you.

“aww, you’re so cu-” you really wanted to finish that sentence, too bad your cough beat you to it, knocking the air out of your lungs and you held onto the counter for dear life. of course, rin was right next to you in an instant, rubbing soft circles around your back, then getting you a glass of water as you calmed down. as you drank from the glass, taking a deep breath in, you couldn’t help but notice rin staring at you with a soft smile. “yeah, you are cute, even when you’re sick.”

isagi yoichi:

isagi like goes through an entire (kinda overdramatic) monologue in his head when you fall to the common cold. it’s hard to explain, but unlike sae and kaiser, isagi notices quick. he doesn’t like spending time away from you, so he mostly comes home on time. he honestly finds it really adorable when your always sitting on a chair near the entrance and waiting to welcome him home.

until one day that just.. doesn’t happen. he’s confused to say the least, but then when he sees you come out of your shared room, a small blanket wrapped around you as you sniffle, he realizes what’s going on. so he drops his stuff into he ground and quickly goes over to you go wrap you in a tight hug.

“welcome back..” you say while letting out a cough into his shoulder. “what happened, [name]?” isagi whispered in your ear, rubbing his hand over your hair as you both rocked back and forth from time to time. “i think i’m sick, ‘ichi… i woke up today and my stomach was hurting really bad..” you murmured back as a response.

“aw, poor baby, must have been bad while i was gone, yeah?” usually this would sound like some sort of mocking, but he does it because isagi feels the need to protect you, and he likes talking to you like that sometimes. he thinks you deserve the princess treatment and he’ll indulge you. you more than just like it, and you’ll become a lot more clingier once he starts to speak to you in that tone. (maybe that’s why he does it so often)

isagi lifts you up, letting you cling onto him like a koala bear as he takes you to couch nearby, letting your blanket fall to the ground. “my blanket, yoichi..” you complain, losing the only source of body heat you had. “silly, i’m here now, i’ll give you what you need.” your face turns red at that, cause he’s just so sweet. “aww, she’s blushing. how cute.” you put a hand to his mouth to shut him up, not having the energy to talk.

he grabs your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, before giving it a little kiss and wrapping his arms around you again. he’ll stay close to you all he likes, isagi could care less about getting sick. if it means staying at home with you, right? “hurts here, right?” placing a hand on your stomach, he soothingly rubs small circles trying to ease the tension. “i hope this helps, even a little.. hm.. did you have medicine, cutie?” he asks, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and leaning his head forward.

“mhm, was too lazy to get out of bed.” you answer, leaning into him at the feeling. it was much more relaxing than having to toss and turn in your bed. he lets you go for a second, sprints to the kitchen to find the medicine and runs back, almost tripping over the blanket you dropped earlier. “be careful, ‘ichi! if you’re gonna get hurt, who’s gonna take care of me?” you pout at him, clearly enjoying the time you’ve spent together since isagi’s come home.

he smiles at you because he just couldn’t help but think how adorable you are, even when you’re sick. he brings you into his arms again, lying down with you. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll stay here as long as you want to take care of you.” he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you slowly drift off to sleep.

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

picket fence | i. sae

✭ tags ; fem + afab!reader (sae jokingly refers to you as unladylike), established relationship, sae is whipped and bad at feelings, reader is very secure in themselves, p in v, very vanilla, 18+

✭ wc ; 2.2k

✭ a/n ; experiencing immense shame. will not be taking questions at this time

✭ synopsis ; you fail to seduce you boyfriend. he wonders if you’ll ever get that you dont need to try

"I'm trying to seduce you," Your voice is sarcastic as it is genuine in equal parts. Sae's expression remains impassive "Can't you at least pretend to care?"

"No," He replies back. You pout and cross your arms. Fake demure abandoned for your difficult personality, you flounce into the living room with a sigh. You're wearing lingerie. It's all lace and sheer and glittery. Not simple to put on from what he can see.

There's garters and stockings visible to the eye and you went as far as wearing the jersey he got for you in his size - cut in half to show you off. It's an admirable attempt, at least. You give him a twirl, gesturing to yourself and then groaning at his disinterest.

He smiles, corners of his lips twitched upwards as he glances at you then turns back to the T.V.

"I can't even get a compliment? Not even a fake one? C'mon,"

He gives you a look, wondering why you've even asked. You sigh, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Most guys would be thrilled by this. Do you know that? I bet Shidou would be,"

"Shidou would fuck anything warm with a hole." He says sarcastically. Even in your annoyance, you laugh. Sae smiles to himself.

"I bet Rin would give me attention," You whine.Sae looks at you seriously.

"Don't joke about fucking my little brother,"

"Who said I was joking, dickwad," You spit, your personality returning to you in the blink of an eye. Sae gives you an unimpressed look "Whatever. I'm gonna go take pictures."

"Pictures?" He inquires. You shoot him a look of annoyance.

"Yes, pictures, Itoshi-san," You say, biting and frustrated - punctuating the honorific "Pictures."

"For who?"

You frown at him.

"Well, certainly not for you." You reply, hand on your hip "For me and whatever friend will hype me up. My private story, who knows, really."

"Don't do that."

"I put too much effort into this. I'm getting some pictures in it." There's a tinge of disappointment at the end of your words, followed by the utmost sincerity "I won't send it to any dudes so you can relax or whatever. I get to pick dinner."

"Hey," He calls, then huffs as you give him a look "Stop. Come here."

Sae watches you tilt your head, confused. You're annoyed, but not upset enough to make it a big deal. You always make it clear that you expect little from Sae. The longer he dates you, the more it annoys him. It's contradictory in it's own right, hypocritical to an extent.

But he doesn't particularly care as you stand next to him, arms crossed over your chest.

"Hm?"

He reaches his hands towards you, fidgeting with the strap of your garters. The warmth of your skin radiates off of you. You smell nice, like something fruity and floral - and you're all visibly done up. He only notices when there's this much space between you.

"How much was this?"

"Expensive," You reply, simple and indifferent "I bought it."

"For me?"

Where he's expecting your usual self (sarcastic, unladylike, rude), you slink back at the question. You're embarrassed, tucking your chin and trying desperately to get a read on his feelings. A sensation he can't describe washes over him, half-way between guilt and amusement.

"Yeah. Who else?"

"Rin," He replies back easily, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry. Just jokes," You say, light-hearted. Gentle in your own way "Are you done? Or are you asking so you can pay me back since you foiled my plans?"

"You look good." He murmurs gently. Softly, quietly, with as little sarcasm as he can manage. It's uncomfortable. The words don't fit in his mouth the way they should. It's not like he's thinking anything else. You do look good. And he does know, that most guys would be thrilled if their partners put on such a get-up for them.

Sae knows it almost intimately that half of his meathead teammates would cream their pants looking at you. Because he's not blind or stupid. It doesn't mean anything to Sae except for when it does.

"You don't have to try so hard," You offer again. That's so like you. No expectations, always prepared to give him ease where he doesn't deserve it "'s fine. Thanks for saying that. I'll go change and we can watch something."

"No," He says, shaking his head. A little gentler this time "C'mere."

A flush spreads over you. He invites you into the bed and you crawl towards him, settled in his lap. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

It's not like he doesn't like it. That he's unaffected. It's just not the clothing itself. Not the lingerie or the jersey which construct themselves as just objects. Sae's desires are the way you linger in the doorway of your shared bedroom - the twirling and posing and dramatics.

The soft laughter and the brave face you put on to walk into the door. The lingerie is pretty. It cups you, hugs you in the right places. Dips between the curve of your breasts and squeezes.

None of that is particular important. Right now, you've let yourself settle in his lap. Your arms around his frame, encircled around his neck and forgiving. He can feel the heat of your core over his cock, can feel the way your eyes flit to his lips up to his gaze. Sae secures his hands on your waist, fingers hooking into a strap and snapping it against your skin.

He kisses your jaw, all the way up until you your lips hover near each other. You press your lips to his, hands brushing the nape of his hair. He deepens it just for you.

"What was'at for? You wanna have sex?"

He laughs at you. Stupid. Crass. Vulgar.

Cute.

"Do you think I'm a eunuch?"

"You act like one sometimes." You admit, with a heaving sigh - brushing your nose against his "Dunno. I feel like I want you more than you want me."

"You're really stupid."

"Sae," You pout like you don't think you'll get your way, even though you always do "You suck."

He's honest with himself for a minute "I know."

"I still love you, though."

"I love you too." He means it. For some reason it's not as hard to say. Love is an objective truth. He can say it reasonably and not flinch. Everything else is hard. You rub your cheek against his, an affectionate and overgrown housecat in his bed.

"Mm," You cling to him, hugging him to your chest "But do you like me?"

"Sometimes."

"So mean." You say with no malice "I don't wanna do any work."

"'s fine. C'mere."

Sae helps as he flips over, until you're onto your back. There's a dull glow from the T.V. illuminating you. Rain pours outside, dark and cloudy. You bat your lashes as Sae hovers over you. His hand grasps your hip, sliding up to your knee as you wrap your legs all the way around his waist.

He kisses you tenderly. You kiss back with a mewl, an innocent and fragile noise that he never gets sick of. It's this part of you Sae likes, this part that makes you want him. Despite all of your grievances and annoyance - all your unpleasantires, you are resilient in a way he has a hard time understanding.

You’re patient, despite him. Always meeting him where he is but making him want to give you more, give you everything. There's plenty of attractive people in the world. None could be you, his home-grown and lovesick toothache.

It makes him feel impatient. Breaks his cool bravado down so slightly. He kisses you again, all deep tongue until you whimper. Then he drags his lips down your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as you hiccup.

You break apart so Sae can undress you. Wiggling out of the jersey, lettng him unclasp your bra. He feels his stomach twist. You're enticing. The gentle heave of your chest, goosebumps on your skin. Sae lets his mouth speak for him, laving his tongue over each of your tits. Toying with your nipples until you gasp and roll your hips up against him.

"Sae," You moan. Sae grunts in the back of his throat "Feels good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The posession that settles in him his strange. He's never felt for anything in this way. Soccer is different. It can't leave. If he works hard enough, he can accomplish his goals.

The idea of you going somewhere Sae can't see you is troubling. Anyone seeing you like this - falling apart as arousal sparks in your gut is agitating. Sae wants you like this. Wants you to fall apart underneath him, because of him. It's all he can do to tell you the extent of his feelings.

He touches you until you're begging him to hurry it up, too much pleasure in your voice to be intimidating. He listens. Continues to toy with your chest as he nudges your legs apart, a hand in your panties to feel you.

You're dripping, keening as he rubs your pussy. He lets himself in slowly, rubbing your clit with his middle finger before angling himself lower. Normally there's more of a build-up. Sae works all of you open slowly. With his tongue or his fingers or his mouth.

He likes seeing you need it. What part of him that speaks too, he doesn't examine. Today, it feels like the roles are inverse. He can feel all the blood rushing to his cock. His thoughts bombarded with you and all your little misgivings.

Today it's more impatient. He finger fucks you open with an end goal clear in his mind. You spread your legs a little, and Sae pushes his middle finger into in one go. There's little resistance. You're wet and welcoming, sighing so sweet in his ear until it's easy to go in and out.

"C'mon and fuck me." You open your eyes to ask him, glassy and desperate "Please?"

"You're so impatient."

"Wanna know you want me."

"You should already know that."

Sae pulls away from you, standing on his knees.

"Open your mouth."

You nod. He lets his middle fingers rest on your tongue as he uses his free hand to position you. His cock rests against your bare cunt. He pushes between your folds, head nudging your clit. You feel good. Always perfect. Always wet and hot and inviting.

He ruts his hips. You whine for him, sounding so need. A staccato to your moans that makes him ache.

"You should know how much I want you, shouldn't you," He says, a hint of frustration in it "Everybody but you seems to."

Sae pushes into you with a heave. You're tight. Warm and wet and slick - made for him just like he always knew. He groans a little as he pushes the tip in. His hands come up under your knees, folding you in half. He waits for you to stop squirming, rocking himself slowly so that it's easier to fit all of him inside.

With a little effort, he manages. His pelvis up against yours, he gets himself close to you. You moan and he gives you look.

"You don't have to do anything special for me to fuck you like this," He says. It's easy to be honest now "Anything you do is enough."

"I just wanna look nice for you." You complain - so breathless and so struck with want Sae can't even be upset.

"I know. And you do," He grunts as he pulls his hips back, pulling out before pushing all the way back in "I don't hate it. Just for me, okay?"

"You're so bad at bein' honest."

"I'm being honest right now," Sae fucks you hard. A punctuated thrust, hand snaked between your bodies to toy with your clit "Read between the lines."

If Sae were better he'd say what he thinks. That it doesn't matter what clothes you have on because he wants to fuck you within an inch of your life for much less. You do look good in the lingerie, too good, and if you send any pictures to anyone - he's going to block them. One of these days he'll be courageous and make you cum while you wear his jersery. Bounce you on his cock and whisper about what you make him do. It’s unlike him. He doesn’t get it either.

He can't verbalize all of that well, so he takes to what he knows. Takes to using his hips to fuck you hard and fast, rhythmic and deep so you can't keep up. He hopes all of it comes through, that short whispers of “fuck, that's it” do enough to get it to come across.

Sae looks on as your face twists with pleasure. Your walls twitch and you shiver in his arms, nails in his bicep as he plays with you. Fucks you to his hearts content. Your legs over his shoulder, toes curled. Your muscles tense.

"Sae, g-gonna, I'm gonna c-cum."

"Cum for me." He whispers (begs if you listen closely) and you do. You're vibrant and wanton and you've still got your stockings on as your pussy pulses needlessly, arousal dripping down his length and onto the sheets underneath you. Leaving a mess of you on the sheets.

He's not done with you yet, but he slows so you can catch your breath. You open your eyes and giggle.

"You make me feel so good." You praise, easily and naturally like you do everything else. He groans internally, at a loss for words.

Instead of saying anything, he presses a kiss to your hairline and promises.

"Gonna keep going till you get it."

You grin.

"I’ll hold you to that, sir.”

#writing tag #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #bluelock x reader #bluelock smut #wow i am immensely ashamed

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