#can be classified as gn reader i think

[vyloy]

may i please request some nu carnival quincy x a male reader who’s a virgin?

Quincy

╰┈➤ tw: slight overstimulation, bulge, size, male reader, genitalia not specified

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"Quincy, could you help me pick this up, it's way too heavy", you called him over to help, thinking he would pick a box up at a time but oh you were wrong, he immediately picked up all three boxes, your jaw dropped, "How the hell...", "hm?", he looked at you confusingly, "nothing! please bring them to the townsfolks", "mn", he nodded as he carried the boxes like they weren't heavy, you thought it was hot but quickly erased the thought and went back to pack some more things for the townsfolk.

"Phew! That was tiring!", you sighed, plopping onto Aster's couch, "Hm? Y/n, have you finished?", Aster asked as he passed by the living room, "yep! it was a real pain, you should pay me for this type of work y'know", you jokingly said in which he replied with, "I'm already letting you live here for free, I think that's enough", before he turned into a bat, escaping through the window before you could react, "that vampire..", you sighed once more but with a smile on your face. Suddenly seeing a shadow leaning ontop of you, looked back to see Quincy, "Oh Quincy! You must be tired after those heavy boxes, let's get you something to eat", "they weren't heavy at all", "eh...", you were baffled, how could he say that when you couldn't even lift one of the boxes to the town if your life depended on it? He really does have inhuman strength, "Whatever, I'll still get you something to eat, how does skewers sound?", he nodded as you walked to the kitchen, him following behind.

The two of you enjoy some skewers, well the three of you considering Topper also joined in, devouring most of the skewers on the table but either way, you and Quincy enjoyed the meal.

It was just a relief to have your work over and done with for the day.

Even though it hadn't been that late, you decided to take a bath and head to bed first, you deserved some rest anyways.

As you settle in your bed, you decide to read a couple books before sleeping, they were the only source of entertainment you had when it came to night time as your phone magically dissappeared the moment you stepped into this world so you were forced to adapt and live your everyday life without one, making you more productive.

As you were in the middle of a book, you suddenly got a knock on the door, you immediately knew it was Quincy as he had been visiting you a couple times in the knight prior to tonight. When you opened the door, you saw Quincy without Topper, "Oh where's Topper? I'm surprised to see you without him", "...", he didn't answer, he only 'pushed' his way into your room, taking a seat on your bed.

Even with a stone cold face, you could see the visible blush on his face, it was odd, "Quincy? Are you okay? Your face is a little red..", you go to touch his cheek, hands cupping his face, "m...", all he does is look down, you follow his gaze and sees that he needs his essence regulated, you've seen this happen to the other residents of this mansion but never have you seen it happen to Quincy, he never really approached anyone about it. "Oh...uh..do you need help with that..?", you said between a few stutters, what were you supposed to say in a situation like this anyways?, "mhm..", he nods slightly, 'fuck' you thought, you have never done something like this before, you've only heard about what goes down when Eiden's the one regulating the others' essences but never have you tried to do it yourself, you were too unexperienced but now, your crush needs your help, fast.

"Alright then-", just as you were about to unbutton your clothes, Quincy pounces on you, letting you fall on top of your bed, startling you, "Quincy? I don't know if it is a good idea to start off so rough!", he proceeds to undress you for you, letting your clothes get thrown on the floor as he focuses on your body, "your skin is soft", he states, making you even more nervous, "this is my first time, please go easy on me-", "don't make such a fuss, relax", he says, very out of character of him.

He attacks your neck, leaving huge hickeys everytime he goes to nibble on a spot, soon enough your neck was covered with hickeys everywhere, it was a sign he has taken you as his, "Quincy...~", you moaned a bit as his hands trail to your nipples, squeezing them just a bit before letting go and massaging your chest, you had never played with yoir own nipples whike masturbating before so it was a new feeling, a good new feeling.

By now, the two of you have already remove all clothing the both of you have, "m..", Quincy's face blushed even more seeing your figure, you were so perfect to him. Quincy immediately prepares you for him, he knows how big he is and wants you to be prepared, he doesn't want it to hurt. He grabs your hips with one hand as the other's two fingers make their way inside of you, making sure to move around while they're in your hole, you moan loudly, fortunately the walls are soundproof and were made for incidents like these so nobody would wake up to the sound of your moans, "Qu-Quincy...!~", you grab his hand, your eyes rolling out of pleasure, even his fingers were big, not to mention the size of his cock, you drooled at the thought of it being inside of you soon. Just as you were about to cum, a sudden feeling of emptiness creeps in due to his fingers leaving your hole.

"Quincy, i want...", you trailed off, trying to find a good way to tell him you wanted his cock to be inside of you right this moment, "say it", he tells you, his eyes full of lust as you finally say the key words, "please shove your cock inside of me!", you cover your face with your hands due to embarrassment but he quickly removes your hands from hiding yourself, "as you wish", was all he said before plunging his cock inside of you, god it hurted like hell, he was so big, "shh, it'll feel better", he reassured, rubbing your hips lovingly. Finally you feel the pleadure after a moment of suffering from pain, now you felt pleasure, you also couldn't help but notce the bulge on uour stomach, likely cauded by Quincy's huge cock, "Quincy, is this you..?", you asked, curious, "m", was all he said before asking you, "move?", you nodded and he immediately started to thrust over and over again into you, making sure you feel every last inch of his cock.

Just a few minutes in and you feel almost overstimulated, maybe it was just his cock that was too big for you to handle. He loved the look on your face, the face of someone completely in ecstasy, he couldn't help but to kiss you, a deep kiss, this was too much to take at once, you were overheating, his cock inside you, his lips on yours, you were in heaven.

After that night, the two of you continued life like normal but of course, the both of you know what's always on each other's minds after said incident, two idiots in love but don't have the guts to tell one another.

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Taglist: @secretivemessenger @devilswhore-emrys @jkloserdazai @miyuuuki

GUESS WHO FINALLY FINISHED A WRITING😭

#male reader #x male reader #nu carnival quincy #nu carnival x male reader #vyrie's dark thoughts #can be classified as gn reader i think

[zg0nuwa]

𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ; “𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬”

had this silly little thought where you ask miguel a bunch of questions about the multiverse

miguel o’hara x gn!reader

warnings ; this is stupid, miguel is confused, mentions of pregnancy/having a kid, my spanish knowledge is below zero so i used google (feel free to correct me)

“ what did you just ask me? ”

“ i asked what would happen if two people - ” you were pestering miguel with questions about the multiverse for the past hour or so. at first it was a basic conversation regarding what were canon events and how are they established, how the portals work and all the other boring stuff.

“ i heard you the first time. just- where did you get that question from? ”

“ don’t tell me you’ve never wondered how it would work if for example we were to have a kid. like, we’re from different universes. i’m just curious what would happen to the kid in this predicament. ” if you were anybody else he would probably just glare at you and go on with his work but due to your position in his heart he just stood there, absolutely mortified at the example you just provided.

in all honesty you weren’t even that much into the topic but being able to bother miguel just a little and watch him scrunch up his nose whenever you mentioned something that would probably classify you as mentally deranged was your favorite hobby.

“ dios por favor dame fuerza*. no, actually i’ve never thought about that. also that example was really uncalled for. ” he thanked his past self for making the office so dimly lit. if it was any brighter in here he’s 97% sure you would be able to see how his neck and ears go all red.

“ so you admit you don’t know what would happen? ”

“ sí, ahora ¿podemos cambiar el tema?* ”

“ okay, okay… there’s actually one more thing i was curious about. ” miguel only sighed and looked at you with an unimpressed expression.

“ should i be scared? ” at this point he had no idea what to expect, in fact he kinda expected anything. and his imagination was not helping him. you looked up at him with those big pleading eyes that at the same time were full of mischief.

“ if, for example, we were to start dating, would that make me you know… kind of a pedophile..? ” there was an awkward silence and the look he had was to be described only with the sentence “what the fuck”

“ what on god’s green earth are you talking about? ”

“ i mean, you’re from year 2099 right? and im from 2023 in my universe. so that would kind of suggest that technically i would be in my 40s or 50s when you were born right? that just… kind of weird to think about i guess? ”

that, he did not expect in any of his wildest scenarios.

“ i’m going to lose my fucking mind. ” he slumped forward hiding his face in his hands.

“ aw come on miguel! it’s a genuine problem i’m thinking about here! ”

* god please give me strength

* yes, now can we change the subject?

#spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara

[dearsnow]

WHERE YOU GO FOR YOUR FIRST DATE (SPIDERVERSE)

- headcanons for where the spiderverse characters take you on your first date (spiderverse x gn!reader, fluff)

a/n - another one of these!! you guys liked the last one so much that i had to make more lol.

HOBIE brings you to a concert. It’s loud and rowdy, but he keeps a gentle hand on you the entire time. Afterwards, he’ll lead you to a quiet place where you can talk and express your feelings about the show you just watched. It’s really cute to see his eyes light up when you discuss everything, and you know that going on this date was the right idea.

MIGUEL doesn’t have time for dates. At least, that’s what he says. So your first “date” is in his office, with you sitting quietly while he does his work. After a bit, though, he notices that you want to do something more and he feels a little pang in his stomach that could be classified as regret or guilt. When that happens, he’ll stop what he’s doing and gruffly ask you if you want to have dinner with him. When you say yes, he’ll stand to set up a nice little scene while you watch.

PAVITR takes you to dinner with him. You don’t go out, he just dresses up and asks his auntie to cook for him. It might seem cheap at first, but he’s really just excited for you to try his auntie’s food and meet his family. Everything about this moment is important to him, you included. There’s perfumed candles on the table and flowers pinned to his dress shirt, which he gives to you after the dinner. He spares no efforts.

When MILES asks you out for your first date, he tries to brainstorm every cool idea or romantic setting. Nothing seems fitting or great enough for you, so he settles on bringing you up to a high roof and having a picnic. The view of the city is incredible as the sun sets, and you talk for hours about life and literally everything. Even though the date came from Miles not knowing what to do, it’s the best date you could ask for.

Like Hobie, GWEN has an affinity for the performing arts. For this date, she’s the one playing. She lets you in on her band practices and secretly dedicates all the songs she plays to you. Her band mates absolutely know how special you are to her, so when practice ends, they all find an excuse to leave. So you’ll sit in the venue with her, talking and making jokes. She’ll apologize for not taking you somewhere “better”, but you really think that anywhere and anything with her is definitely worthy of your time.

#solar eclipse. #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara x you #miguel spiderman #hobie brown atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy #spider gwen #gwen stacy x reader #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv x you #across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider verse #hobart brown

[lululandd]

rabid; (i.)

pairing: platonic simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 956

warnings: comedy, aftermath of torture, mild gore

note: heheh >:3 (also on ao3)

summary:

ghost has a love-hate relationship with his neighbour of six years. on one hand they’re quiet enough, nice enough, considerate enough and never once had bothered him in any way, but on the other hand he is a highly trained soldier with highly trained senses and the things he hears travelling through his walls are batshit insane.

part i. | part ii. | part iii. | part iv.

He guesses they are an entertainer or a comedian or some sort because on rare occasions, they—whether he wanted to or not—made him laugh. The absurdity of the questions and things that came out of their mouth really makes him feel like he has a glimpse of what a worry free civilian life could be.

On one particularly rowdy night he heard the one sided conversation about anal, which rapidly escalated to how peoples arseholes can stretch up to seven inches in diameter and therefore, theoretically could fit two smaller raccoons.

He listened in fascinated horror how that thought came into their mind, how they associated arseholes with raccoons, and why in christ fuck did they sound so cheerful about it. Maybe he’s just a battle hardened, workaholic soldier that has only seen carnage and suffering, but even if such a thought came to his mind, it would not be classified as a happy thought and he would not laugh about it.

Until eight months later where he’s interrogating an American that he really wants to just straight up murder and remembers his neighbour.

He opens the door that leads to the rest of the warehouse and calls out to his men, “I need two raccoons. Small but not pups.”

He was met with silence and a confused looks, but he saw Gaz and Soap get on it and round up several soldiers.

“Alive!” He barked at them.

—

Soap looked worriedly at Gaz, “What do you think he’s gonna do with live raccoons?”

The other man shrugged, “You think he’s gonna threaten him with rabies?” Gaz gnashed his teeth together, “Let them bite him or something?”

One of the Lance Corporals behind them chimed, “I kinda wanna see.”

In came a chime of ‘yeah’s from the other men.

—

Ghost had made sure the American in question heard his request of the live raccoons before taking a seat on the table holding all his tools and lighting up a cigarette.

He looked at the man’s surroundings, the litter of teeth and nails on the floor, three parts of his severed ring finger, and the blood splatters on the makeshift plastic floor. The cleanup crew’s gonna at least be a little happy about that.

“You like raccoons, mate?” He offers, lighting what seemed to be his third cigarette.

The question caught him off guard. “What?”

“Raccoons. Trash pandas. Those chubby lil wankers with grubby hands.” He curled his palms and did mock scratching motions.

“You’re crazy.” He spat.

“I am.” For even thinking of trying this over his neighbour’s demented jokes.

Fourty five minutes later Gaz came knocking on his door.

“Got your furry friends, boss.” He gestures at a cage sitting by the door. The animals seemed calm, they couldn’t have just nicked it from some random bins and throw them in there.

“Cheers, Gaz.” He saw the man linger. “Anything else?”

“Can we observe, Sir?”

“No.” came his quick answer. If he really has to do what he thinks he’s gonna do, he’d rather his men not see it. They’ve seen so much in their line of work already, he doesn’t want to add to their nightmares.

Imagining one of them having PTSD from seeing a harmless animal makes him feel guilty.

He took the cage from Gaz’s hands and placed it nicely on the floor, a little way away from the American’s feet.

“You know that saying?” He puts on his best southern accent, mimicking Graves. “What crawled up your butt and died?”

The man’s eyes widened and he tried so hard to shift further into his seat, trying to create as much distance between them as possible. Ghost lets the moment go on for a little longer. It makes all the difference, really; whether you rush into the torture or letting them sit and wonder about the choices they think they have.

“I heard somewhere that your arse can stretch up to seven inches in diameter.” He pointed at the raccoons, “The normal sized bastards can fit into a four inch hole. But I’m being nice today and gonna give these smaller ones some wiggle room.”

He can’t help but crouch closer to the cage and coo at them as the man starts yelling for help.

“So.” He said in a calm voice, listing his head slowly when the man had stopped screaming his throat dry. “Since I’m a very nice man today I’m gonna give you two options.”

Fat rolls of tears had started to run down the man’s cheeks, his chest heaving as he begged for mercy.

“Do you want me to sedate these raccoons so they don’t claw your insides or do you wanna..” He remembers a word that floated into his flat one night, “..rawdog it?”

—

Soap had never seen a cleaner interrogation room before. Not from Ghost, the man’s usually so brutal about it. He remembers seeing parts of a live brain one time because Ghost had bashed their skull so badly and remembered having to shoot the person dead out of pity. But today? The intel was good, the man was still alive with almost all of his body parts; save for some of his teeth and nails and the chopped up finger,

and the raccoons.

They were alive and Ghost seemed to never have opened the cage at all.

—

When Ghost came home that month he heard his neighbour say something about a ‘little birthday celebration’ for tomorrow. He checked his watch and decided to walk to the bakery and get them some cake. That last operation went smoothly, and he has them to thank.

He can’t wait to hear what other mental things that will come out of their mouth in the future and apply them to his work.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

[munsster]

bedhead

A/N: I needed a sleepy boy on this sleepy day. and billy H needs a damn haircut >:) gif cred: @julie-thefatones

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

Summary: Billy wakes with the desire to get rid of his hair eating away at him. 0.7k words

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, established relationship, implied night terrors, messy haircuts, anxiety/insomnia, scars, mentions of bullying

Everything Billy can touch is cold and dark. The sheets, the hard wood floor, the bathroom light switch, the porcelain counter. The water that pours from the faucet and the silver rings of the trimming scissors you keep in a soft plastic case in the cabinet below the sink. The only noise he can reasonably detect is the whirring of the ceiling fan. And if he listened carefully enough, paused his thundering heart for just a moment, he could hear your breath as it fans across your pillow.

But he came in here for a reason. Wielding the cold metal shears like Goliath and his sword. Marching into battle at six foot something, only to find himself in the mirror, damp with sweat and pale with insomnia. Deep purple cresting his edges and the thin crescents of skin beneath his baby blue eyes. Though the bathroom gives him a sickly green tint.

The first chunk of hair hits the floor with the faintest thud. So faint, it shouldn't be classified as a thud. But it's more the weight of the change than the handful of dark gold curls itself.

He's lopsided now. Now there's no turning back. But he couldn't proceed forward with any strength and confidence looking how he's looked for years. How he looked beating up his friends and calling girls sluts. How he looked on the verge of death.

Billy used to wear his head of sun kissed, West Coast hair like a helmet. Now it feels like a burden. You'd still fawn over him if he buzzed it all off. You'd call him stupid, sure, but he'd still be yours. And right now, that's all he's concerned with being.

Because you peer into the bathroom and coo his name like you don't see the growing pile of hair writhing around on the floor.

"Hi, baby," you whisper, cradling the scissors when he drops them into your hands, "little early for a haircut, isn't it?"

He shrugs, but he doesn't look at you. Like a child guilty of putting a piece of gum in his sister's hair. Only he's the one with the choppy locks, uneven chunks missing by his ears and the back of his head.

"Want help?"

Oh, and there are those baby blues, surrounded by soft pink sclera and nearly drooping from their sweetened places above his flushed cheeks.

Billy straddles the toilet lid backwards, arms crossed and settled on the ledge. He lets you turn his head side to side, up and down, and the pattern becomes soothing. Especially as the extra weight accumulates below his socked feet and over his sloped shoulders.

He thinks he must’ve passed out to the sound of the clippers, because he wakes with a tap on his shoulder. Your manicured pointer on his warm midnight skin rousing him from a dreamless sleep.

“Hmm?”

“All done,” you whisper, kissing his temple when he turns his head, “come look.”

Billy’s fingers feel heavy as he drops them between yours. You can hear the exhaustion in how he slumps to a stop in front of the mirror. He takes his time, a few deep breaths, and a while to admire the cropped cut. The way he hasn’t looked in years. It’s refreshing.

“You look really handsome, Billy. Was about time for a trim.” There’s a lilt in your voice that’s hard to take. It lightens his chest, straightens his shoulders, widens his tired eyes. Because there’s this sort of mischief clear on your face from where you stand behind his shoulder. He can feel it through the mirror. Intoxicating and delicious. Makes him feel beautiful as if he ever has before.

Billy whips around and twists his arms tight around you, collapsing into your embrace like a lovely paper doll. The room is cool like a nice glass of water. Even with the sun hinting at the morning and cars whizzing by down below, the light blue of five AM settles over him like a blanket.

You run your fingers up the exposed back of his neck, and he groans. The hair is short there, his neck is hot, his teeth sink into your shoulder playfully.

“Back to bed.”

He nods and does not let go, just waddles you to the bed, tucking the both of you back under the duvet with a big sigh.

masterlist

#stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #angst #billy hargrove #hurt/comfort #x gn!reader #x gn reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #drabble #billy hargrove drabble

[jesterwriting]

hi hi i saw your requests are open! can i request something fluffy or angsty maybe a little spicy with law, where you tell him that “all i want is you” fem reader or gn reader i don’t mind! thank you🩷

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, jealous!law, you're both kinda tipsy, making out to heartfelt conversation, complimenting law because he needs it, probably ooc

word count: .9k words

note: i dont know why, but this gave me so much trouble to write it was crazy. literally gator wrestled these words in a pile of mud. i got death rolled. but i'm happy with the results and i hope you are too anon <33 thank you so much for the request! :3

playlist: science/visions by chvrches

Law kissed you like you were about to disappear.

Hungry lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone where he nipped and sucked at your sensitive flesh. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him closer. His hands were cold as they slid up your ribcage, you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled from your lips.

Asshole. He wouldn’t think it was very funny if you tickled him mid-makeout. To keep from jamming your hands under his armpits in retribution, you busied yourself by pressing kisses to whatever part of Law your lips could reach. He groaned when you nipped at the shell of his ear, grinding his crotch against yours.

If you knew getting Law jealous would result in something so steamy, you’d do it more often. While you didn’t classify your conversation with that friendly bar patron as flirting, judging by Law’s insistence to mark every inch of skin he could find, he certainly did. You threw your head back and moaned when his teeth met the junction where your neck and shoulder met, soothing the bite with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Jeez, what’s gotten into you,” You managed to say between gasps. “Are you trying to eat me alive?”

He didn’t look up. Not a chuckle, not a glance, not even a smirk. After leaving your throat thoroughly bruised, Law moved onto your chest.

“I’ll get to that later,” He finally answered.

There was something off about Law. He refused to meet your eyes, completely single minded in his quest of turning you into a giant bruise. It wasn’t until his hands cupped your face did you notice that they were trembling. You wasted no time prying Law from your stomach, forcing him to meet your eyes. Whatever you expected, nothing prepared you for the split second glimmer of unease before it was promptly snuffed out by a glare.

“Woah, calm down, Law, you’re acting funny.”

He snorted and sat back on his heels. There was the scent of alcohol on his breath, and while you knew you indulged as well, he wouldn’t come back smelling of it from your lips alone. “Not as funny as that guy at the bar.”

Okay, he was really jealous.

“It wasn’t like that, he was telling me about the history of the town.”

Law rolled his eyes. “You were all over him.” Before the instinctual ‘was not’ was able to leave your mouth, he looked away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His next words were barely audible, grumbled just under his breath. “You never laugh like that when you’re with me.”

Oh.

This went a little deeper than petty jealousy.

Pulling your shirt down, you sat up to meet Law’s stare. He seemed to regret the words as soon as they left his mouth, teeth clenched so tight you could see the tendons in his jaw jump. You patted the space next to you on his bed. “Sit down, we should talk.”

Stubborn as always, Law stayed standing. “I should get going, I have work to get done before morning.”

He turned on his heel, and before he was able to exit the room, your arm shot out to grab him. Law didn’t pull away from you, only let out a heavy sigh as your thumb traced tender circles onto the inside of his wrist.

“All I want is you, you know that, right?” When he didn’t respond, you tugged him closer. Law only budged because he wanted to. No one alive could make him do what he didn’t want to do. So as he slowly made his way to the bed, boots heavy against the floor, and sat down beside you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You took his tattooed hand in your own, gently playing with his fingers. Law still wouldn’t look at you, gaze fixed stubbornly at the far wall. “Come on, you have to know that.”

The silence was deafening. In a desperate attempt to fill it, you nudged Law with a half-hearted smile. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“Not like that.”

That wasn’t good. You trailed your fingers along his arms where they met at his face. Tugging on his chin to manually force him to look at you, you spoke your next words earnestly. “I love you, Law. Not some rando at the bar. Yeah, maybe he made me laugh a little, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you. I love your dry wit. I love your intelligence. I love how you care for everyone on this ship before anything else. You’re a good person and a good doctor, I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

You must have gotten through to him because the tips of his ears were tinged pink. With a relieved smile, you placed a small peck to the corner of his lips. They twitched upwards, though you could tell Law tried to stifle it and keep his displeased expression.

“You can stop now,” He said, face two shades darker than usual.

“Oh, I’m just getting started.”

The rest of the night was spent with you singing Law’s praises that he consistently waved off, pretending like you couldn’t tell he liked it. Every so often, you would place a chaste kiss to the back of his hand or to his cheek, a sharp contrast to the hungry mouth that was on your mere minutes earlier. If Law really wanted you to stop, you would. All he had to do was say it.

Three hours passed with Law in your arms, and not once did the word ‘stop’ leave his lips.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #law x you #law x yn #.jesterwrites

[criminalskies]

hello hello icon, love your writing, hope your doing good today!! 🩷

if you're taking requests do you think you could write something that gives "my big fat greek wedding" where the reader is bringing hotch over to meet their family and while reader has been warning him that their family is kinda crazy it's not til the night of, that hotch really gets it because hes just watching reader get more overwhelmed throughout the night while they drag him through all the introductions and dodge every plate of food and little mean comments from cousins. I just feel like he'd be so good about pulling reader away for a sec and comforting them through the loving chaos that is a huge and wild family and being like "yeah still love you tho". also like change whatever you want, do whatever bestie xx

Hi lovely anon! I must apologise rq for this taking me A CENTURY to write. I hope you're still there to read this <3 Aaron hotchner x GN!Reader. 5.4k words. warnings: mentions of testicular injury. your aunt is kiiiiiiind of a pervert, but just longing stares. No copping a feel. mentions of alcohol. that should be it! please enjoy!

Since working at the BAU, you have tried awfully hard to keep your biological family and your work family separate. You’ve successfully intercepted every one of your aunt’s offerings to surprise you with food at your office (and three to five of your younger cousins in-tow). You’ve successfully kept your loving parents from appearing at the doors of the BAU with over exaggerations of just how classified and gruesome your work is, no civilians past the front doors of Quantico, etc. You thank all the layers of misrepresentation of FBI work in the media for getting away with that one. 

It’s been hard work, ten months of intercepting family group texts and abating their offers to bring you food with pictures of your home-cooked meals sent no less than three times a day. You’ve had to recycle a lot of the same photos to cover up your habit of buying takeout after a long day, but they don’t seem to have noticed. So far, it’s all been worth it. You’ve successfully convinced your coworkers that you’re a perfectly normal FBI agent with a perfectly normal family. It’s even worked on the one person you have most hoped to impress, your boss. SSA Aaron Hotchner. It has been even harder work convincing your family to steer clear of your apartment whenever he’s over and the biggest effort of all has been getting out of your family’s weekly Sunday Dinner. Which is in reality a twelve hour event. You’ve only had a few lazy Sunday dates with Aaron, but they have been some of your favorites. Shed of his suit and tie, you see him let loose of all his usual restraint. You see him relax, and that’s something you wouldn’t trade for anything. So you can take all the quips from your mother, aunts, cousins, nephews and grandfather as long as you have to, to keep your little bubble from bursting. 

Aaron seems to believe you have a peaceful, quiet life. You’ve tried very hard to stage your apartment to look like the kind of place someone can read in airy silence on their days off. You want to create that space for your boyfriend, one where he doesn’t have to be ‘bossman’ or ‘SSA’ or even ‘dad’.  He can just be Aaron. 

Of course, you know each time you’ve been vacuuming or watering your plants, only to hear the agitated scraping of keys in your door, as the heavy footsteps of your nieces and nephews come clambering down the hall to your apartment. Your space quickly floods with the hustle and bustle of your loud, overbearing family. You know one of these days they’ll waltz in uninvited and find you and Aaron curled up in bed, probably giving the poor man a heart attack in the process. 

Which is why you’ve decided, after six months together, you know how lucky you’ve been to not be the unsuspecting victims of a thirty person ‘pop-in’. So you’re going to quit while you’re ahead. This illusion is getting exceedingly tiring to uphold and you really suspect your boyfriend, the expert profiler, must have lost his touch if he hasn’t realized there’s more to you than meets the eye. 

You’re just going to have to sit poor, sweet, unsuspecting Aaron down Saturday night and ask him about joining you to your family’s place for Sunday dinner. You feel bad for giving him such short notice, but really it is better this way. The less time you have to warn your mother that you’re bringing your boyfriend over, the better. Although, it might take longer than just Sunday to get said boyfriend up to speed. 

Saturday night arrives and you’ve been acting completely off. You’ve been so focused on trying to plan your warning speech for Aaron that you spaced out during dinner three times, only realizing when you would notice your boyfriend’s signature head tilt and drawn brows staring back at you across the table. You completely missed him reaching across to hold your hand, and you missed him asking you about coming to Jack’s soccer game Thursday night. The third time, when you’re staring right through Aaron’s shirt as he was filling you in on the interdepartmental FBI gossip, he knows something must be seriously wrong with you tonight to not want to hear about an SSA and a section chief getting caught in a supply closet at the gala for the Seattle field office. 

“Okay, that’s it.” Aaron huffs, moving your plate and his from the table to the kitchen counter before he comes to pull your chair back from the table, squatting opposite you now until he’s at your eye level, taking you gently by the shoulders. “What is the matter, angel? You’ve been staring straight through me.” You feel guilt wash over you as you see the concern in Aaron’s eyes, searching yours for any signs of distress.

“Oh- I’m sorry bear I’ve just. I just have something I have to ask you about. But, here, we should go sit down.” You grab Aaron by the hand, pulling him to his feet as you rise from your chair. You see a flash of terror across his face before he can reel in his expression, once again giving you his signature stare that means he’s listening. “No! Don’t stress, it’s nothing awful, just, complicated. Really.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly as you lead him to the couch. He breathes a sigh of relief at hearing you’re not about to break up with him or tell him you’ve fallen in love with his brother or anything drastic. 

You sit cross-legged on the couch as Aaron settles into the corner, turned towards you to give you his full attention, his hand still nestled in yours. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth before you spit it out. “I want you to meet my family.” 

Aaron’s dimples appear as his face begins pulling into the most unexpected smile and he laughs a puff of air through his nose at your admission. 

“That’s it? That’s the thing that had you giving me a thousand yard stare all night?” He asks, unable to conceal his incredulous look. 

“Yeah. That’s just the start of this whole speech. There’s a dinner tomorrow at my parent’s place. But it’s no small event, Aaron. My family is kind of a lot, in every way imaginable or otherwise.” Now it’s Aaron who tries reassuring you, shifting you to melt against his side on the couch as his arm wraps around your tense shoulders. 

“Angel, if they played any part in making you who you are, I would love to meet them.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple now. 

“Okay. Well, for my own safety of mind I’m going to issue you some forewarnings so you’re at least prepared for some of the insanity. You ready?” You turn to look him in the eyes as you ask him. 

“I’m ready, love.” You admire his bravery, really. You know he’s a seasoned FBI agent having worked in Seattle, Quantico, coming face to face with serial killers and people who would have turned his face into some kind of mask or couch upholstery if they had the chance. Still, you can’t help but worry at how badly he seems to be underestimating this situation.

You pull out a framed family tree from the back of your home study, watching the blood slowly drain from Aaron’s face when he realizes there are close to 65 names being mentioned as people who will be at dinner tomorrow to meet him. You warn him in particular about your uncles Ronnie and Tommy. You know how they treat new partners in this family. Ronnie will challenge Aaron to a friendly little wrestling match, hoping to pin him in thirty seconds and make sure he knows he’s not the toughest guy around. Meanwhile, Tommy is trying to talk Aaron out of wrestling Ronnie, to see how easily coerced your poor boyfriend may be. These are crucial moments for Aaron to demonstrate that he’s not macho to a fault, nor is he easy to intimidate. 

Next, your Aunt Rita. She will eat him whole if she’s given the chance, you know how little self control she has around any man you bring home, let alone one that’s tall dark and handsome, and an FBI agent at that. You warn him not to hold Rita’s hand, no matter how many times she tries to offer it, because she has a grip like gorilla glue and won’t let him go again. If he ever starts to dance tomorrow night. He is to move away from her at. All. costs. She will shamelessly grind on his thigh after just a few drinks. 

You warn him about your grandmama, how she thinks she’s twenty years younger and can still go up and down the stairs on her own. If he sees her dawdling away, just take her elbow and guide her back. You have no doubts about Aaron here, though, knowing he’s ever the gentleman and would never let his guard down, allowing your 98 year old great grandmother to wander out of the house’s side gate or into the dog’s kennel alone. 

Lastly. Your second cousins. There’s the quadruplets, who you think should really be kept on leads, there’s Charlie, who’s genuinely known to bite strangers, Angie, who is smart as a whip and will do everything in her power to make your new boyfriend feel stupid. There’s Davie and Ruby, who like pulling off ‘pranks’, only they seem to be mistaken that the crucial element of a prank is that it’s deceptive AND funny. See, they think slipping a little roast beef into a stranger’s back pocket is the height of comedy. They’re especially into using tripwires or pretending to be floating around face-down in the pool for someone to dive in and rescue them. 

By the end of your long list of precautionary tales, Aaron feels like he’s studying for the bar exam, he’s memorized the names of almost all your immediate relatives, and the rest he’ll have to figure out as he goes.  He knows which aunts will be offended by him not taking a heaped portion of their provided dishes, and he knows which uncles will try to feed him enough beers to take down a moose. He’s as ready as he can be, and the more he focuses on what you’re telling him, the more you start to recognise the look in his eye, it’s the same look you always see whenever he’s about to enter a maximum security prison. Knowing that inmates will try to belittle him or lure him towards them, knowing he’s like a bucket of chum floating just out of reach of shark infested waters. But surely if he’s survived every one of those encounters before, your family won’t be the thing to break him… right? 

The two of you settle down that night to watch a movie, and you are especially doting to your beautiful kindhearted boyfriend, trying to make sure he’ll remember how lovely and caring you are to him, even if he’s soon to realize you were essentially raised by a pack of wolves. When you offer to make him a cup of tea for the fourth time, he sighs and drags your lying form over his on the couch, essentially caging you in his arms.

“Angel. You have to stop.” Aaron says, in a matter-of-fact way that makes you believe you have no choice in the matter. “Stop apologizing to me for something that hasn’t even happened yet. However crazy, however loud, however boisterous or blunt your family is, I will leave there loving you just as much. Probably even more, given the way things have been trending lately. Okay?” He moves a hand to your cheek now, caressing it as his soft eyes try to reason with your worried ones, he looks so perfect under the warm lamplight. He has been the perfect boyfriend so far. Maybe, just maybe, he can handle your family and everything that comes with it. 

“Okay, bear.” You close your eyes, burying your face in his chest and letting his steady heartbeat lure your own racing heart back into a healthy rhythm, as his hand finds its home against the crown of your head. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You spent the next day like you’ve spent most Sundays of your life, preparing enough food to sink the titanic. Okay, poor example. Enough food to feed your entire clan, perhaps. Aaron is nothing short of adorable as he swans around helping you, it is very nice not doing this alone, you have to admit. Having him chop and prepare the extra vegetables while you’re able to watch the sauce in the pot so for once you don’t end up with half of the flavor firmly stuck to the base, having to strain out the lumps right before you go to leave. Aaron even insists that he has all the bases covered, ushering you into your bedroom to please shower and get dressed so you’re not late. It occurs to you then that not only is he not scared of your family, he actually wants to make a good impression on them. 

The two of you make it into the car, only six foil trays of food and a tart for dessert in hand, with time to spare. Aaron parks the car just down the street and turns off the engine, turning to see you chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you insist you’re sweating due to the piping hot lasagne in your lap, nothing to do with nerves. A large  hand reaches over the console to gently take your own, bringing it towards his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart. Really.” He says, bringing your hand back into the space between you both, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“I know. You can handle serial killers and talking down people with bombs strapped to their chests. I’m sure my cousin's threats of throwing whipped cream at you from off the top balcony will pale in comparison.” You breathe out. “Let’s go, love.”

The two of you have barely made it through the front gate before you’re met with two familiar faces, your second cousins ‘guarding’ the front door with waterguns aimed at Aaron and yourself. 

“Password!” Davie barks.

“Davie. Ruby. You guys keep getting taller, huh?” You try buttering them up while you think of what a five and seven year old would consider a worthy password for your family home. 

“Really? Ya think so? Ruby asks with a bright smile, more gaps than there are teeth showing. You know she’s not the mastermind of their evil plans, it’s Davie that has to coerce her into helping him.

“Oh boy, do I!” You add, laying it on thick while Davie approaches Aaron, his brows drawn tightly together. 

“You’re new. He’s new?” He turns to you, pointing at Aaron with a rather displeased look in his tiny face. 

“Davie, meet Aaron. Aaron is my boyfriend.” You say puling your intertwined hands into view of the little ones, where Ruby responds with a vehement “ewwwwww!”

“COOTIES!” Davie yells, the two of them running back around the side of the house, of course off to tell their parents the news off this imminent cooties outbreak.

“That was a fantastic start. So far I’ve gotten one very passionate ‘ewwwwww!’ “ Aaron chuckles, squeezing your hand before he picks up the trays of food once more, carrying on into the house. 

You can hear the rabble from the back rooms of the house bouncing around and echoing out of the open door, your mother’s uncontrollable laughter cutting through the cacophony as Aaron’s dimple appears on his cheek. She sounds just like you when you give off a real, genuine laugh. One that bubbles out of you, throwing your head back and grabbing at your stomach as tears spring from your eyes. Aaron loves that sound. You don’t see him beaming at you from the corner of your eye line. 

You made it not quite three feet into the hallway before Aunt Rita’s speed walking towards you both, margarita in hand already threatening to spill and dinner has not yet begun. 

“Here’s our happy couple!” she all but yells, turning her head to announce “I found em!” back down the hall as she moves to engulf you in a hug. “Y/N, it’s been so long!” Rita holds you, trapped there in the hug as she’s no doubt raking her eyes over Aaron’s form behind you. 

“Aunty, I only saw you two Sundays ago.” You remind her politely, knowing that in this household that qualifies as half a lifetime. 

“I know, baby, faaar too long.” She finally releases you from her grasp as you quickly step back, half-blocking Aaron from her reach. 

“This is my boyfriend, Aaron.” You wrap a hand around his arm, holding onto him like a lifeline as you pray Rita will find it in herself to leave him alone. 

“The FBI Agent!! Woooooow, sugar, we’ve been hearing so much about you lately. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister F-B-I.” Rita moves her glass to her other hand, offering her wrist to Aaron as she bats her eyelashes. Shameless woman. Luckily, Aaron being a perfect gentleman, well versed in abating old ladies, he takes her hand rather briskly, placing a barely there kiss on her hand and relinquishing it back to her. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, ma’am.” Aaron offers a tight lipped smile, careful to keep his dimple levels in check. You warned him that one of your exes was practically pulled by his cheek to meet the rest of the family when Rita spotted his dimple on show. 

“MA’AM?! Ugh, now you’re just making me feel ancient, Sugar. Please. Call me Rita.” She shoves Aaron’s chest, her hand lingering a moment longer than you’d really like it to, but your boyfriend has enough humility to ‘stumble’ back slightly at the push. 

“Of course, Rita. My mistake.” Poor Aaron’s hands must be burning holding the tin foil trays in his palm this long, luckily Rita moves out of the way, standing to the side and most definitely eyeing your boyfriend’s ass as he walks away, you walk behind him, shielding him from her wandering eyes. You feel terrible that he’s been here all of two minutes and he’s already been ewwwww’ed at and now treated like a piece of meat. Heaven help you. 

“Y/N! Come here, my baby!” Your mother swans out of the kitchen, your breath catches at the sight of her apron, a curvy bikini model body drawn over the fabric, with a KISS THE COOK! Tattoo and lipstick marks all over the model’s skin. Classy. Very classy. Your mother plants a sticky lipglossed kiss on each of your cheeks, hugging tightly around your neck before turning to Aaron. She takes the trays from his scalding hands and places them on the counter before opening her arms to him with a smile. “This must be Aaron! I’m Y/M/N.” She pulls him into a tight hug, his tall frame bending down to get his arms around her shoulders as his cheeks receive two somehow equally sticky kisses. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/L/N. I’ve heard so much about y-” Aaron’s cut off by a football flying between his face and your mother’s and colliding with the refrigerator. You all turn just in time to see your uncles all whiz around, suddenly very focused on the patch of dead grass in the back corner of the yard. 

“Boys! Excuse me Aaron, we’ll pick this up again.” Your mother saunters out of the back door, waving a meat tenderiser in the air, you choose not to hear the string of expletives currently gracing the ears of everyone in a three mile radius. Instead, turning to greet your other, better behaved aunties and older cousins all gathered in the kitchen, a pasta-making train formed by seven pairs of hands. You’re informed that your folding skills are needed to finish off the agnolotti. 

You’re eternally grateful to your two eldest cousins, who offer to get Aaron a drink and secure him a seat in the corner of the dining room, far from Rita who keeps walking by sucking cherries from the punch between her teeth as she eyes your boyfriend. He seems to be blissfully pretending he can’t see her, instead engaging most of your cousins in conversations about what exactly profiling even is. You hear the usual wave of ‘wow’s and ‘ahh’s washing over the building crowd when Aaron is able to tell that your uncle Scooter is planning to move to the coast and retire this year. 

Once dinner is finally ready and being served on the porch, you and Aaron are able to grab some plates, only to find that the last seats left are right between your two most testy uncles. You sit Aaron next to Tommy, hoping he can withstand the mental games, instead of Vinnie’s prodding at his masculinity. From what you hear, it sounds like Aaron is able to effectively corner Tommy, using his own logic against him without sounding too callous about it. You smile to yourself while you dig into your potato salad, how you’ve managed to get this lucky with Aaron, you’ll never know. 

Before dinner is over, however, your dad comes walking, suitcase in hand around the side of the house, having returned from his work trip overseas, the crowd erupts with a cheer when he reveals he has brought home as much spiced rum from the duty free stores at the airport as he could legally purchase at once. Scooter races inside to bring out some tumblers of ice for all those old enough to drink. Aaron stays seated at your side while you hug your father hello, and start a fond conversation with him. Aaron’s always heard you talk fondly of your dad, a calm voice in a sea of abrupt, booming family members. 

He sees you gesturing towards him, smiling warmly while you talk with your father and Aaron’s never been much of a lip reader, but he does see your dad pull you into another big hug after he asks something with the word happy. A fluttery feeling spreads through Aaron’s chest as he watches you, thinking about how happy he is with you, as well. 

His bubble of warmth is quickly burst when Vinnie marches up to Aaron, a hand slapping down over his clothed shoulder as he asks why he’s not drinking any rum. 

“You some kind of mormon or something? Or an addict?” Vinnie asks, not very delicately. 

“No. Neither.” Aaron keeps his tone friendly and measured. Vinnie wants an argument, wants a fight. He’s not going to give it to him. 

“Come get a drink with me, then. Ay Ay Ron.” Vinnie pulls him by his sleeve as Aaron carefully discards his plate on his seat, checking the dogs are safely secured away from all the food.

You turn, seeing Aaron’s interrogation-proofed stare as Vinnie pours at least four standard drinks into the glass, offering it to him with a smirk. Aaron takes it with a thank you, ever so polite. He’s hoping to pour some of it out, you’re sure. But Vinnie is refusing to take his eyes off of the man as Tommy rounds Aaron’s other shoulder, an equally evil smirk on his face. Your cousins call everyone’s attention to the lawn by the side of the house, announcing they’ll be playing a football game in five minutes! 

“So down your desserts and get your game faces on!” one of the quadruplets booms, you never can tell which one is which. Not that it tends to matter since they mostly move in a huddle. Your younger cousins and second cousins all erupt into cheers and chants, running to grab one last slice of cake and ice cream before their game starts. Your dad goes off to greet the rest of your siblings and you cross the lawn, growling children whizzing past your legs as you try not to kick any of them over. You meet Aaron, putting yourself between him and Vinnie, seeing Aaron’s nervous sipping of his drink has left him with just one finger of rum left in the tall glass. Oh dear. You’re glad he can hold his liquor as his arm wraps around your waist, holding onto you like a lifeline as Tommy continues his rant about how government workers are overpaid for their work and the FBI has more coverups than it has investigations these days. 

Luckily, your father cuts his brothers incessant yammering off, holding out a hand to shake Aaron’s, asking if he can pick his profiling brain for a moment about something. You see Aaron release a tiny breath of relief, following your father into the house. You take the opportunity now to smack each of your uncles on the shoulders. 

“Please behave, you two. I like this one. Please, you’ll have a hundred more chances to interrogate him if you don’t scare him off tonight. Just, tone it down. I know asking you to stop is pointless. But please. As your favorite brother’s favorite child, I’m begging.” You plead with them both to stop just short of sending Aaron barreling into his shell he wears at work. You don’t want him being in his unsub-defense mode every time he walks into your home. You’re met with two grunts of acknowledgement, and you set off in search of some better company. 

The football game starts up fair enough, two teams of kids playing only semi-gently against their relatives. The score is 3-2 when Aaron and your father emerge from the den, your dad’s arm around the man's shoulder, dragging him with a smile on his face to get some more rum. Luckily, your dad has the civility to let him pour his own drink, however he pleases. They find a spot in the crowd, watching the game as Aaron settles into your side, eyes searching yours to find you doing the same. You both have a shy laugh and turn to watch the game, happy to see that the other is okay. 

You engage in some more quiet conversation in your corner of the field until Davie gets a little overexcited, kicking the ball far too hard after he scored his touchdown and you watch in slow motion as poor sweet Aaron is barely able to remove his hand from yours before the wad of leather and lace collides brutally with his crotch, and his knees buckle, hands coming to hold his crown jewels as he bites his lips hard to hold in a loud cry. It takes every ounce of self control in his body to keep himself even partially upright, wanting very badly to curl into the fetal position to nurse his burning balls. 

“Oh my god! Aaron, are you okay?!” He manages a weak nod, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he manually forces himself to continue breathing. “I’m gonna get you some ice! Wait there! Or, well. I’ll be back!” You turn towards the kitchen, where you spy Davie’s toothy grin, receiving a crisp $20 bill from Vinnie. You are so going to pour that man’s precious rum down his favorite shirt the moment Aaron is able to breathe naturally again. You rush to grab some ice, filling a zip-loc bag and sprinting back out to where Rita is sitting, holding Aaron’s hand tightly in hers, fanning him with her hand-fan as the redness in his neck only spreads upwards towards his ears. 

You stand before him, holding his face in your hand as you place the bag of ice in his hand. He can freeze his own nuts, you’re sure he doesn’t need you dropping the rock hard ice into his lap. He finally opens his eyes, looking up at you with a rather strained look on his face. You bend down to place a kiss on his forehead, silently thanking him for being the most patient man on the face of the earth. 

Rita luckily has the grace to leave you two alone now, freeing up the seat next to Aaron which you take, brushing his hair back from where it now sticks to his forehead. 

“Thank you for being the best boyfriend in the world. I am so, so, so sorry this is such a mess I… Aaron?” His brows draw closer and closer as you’re talking, his eyes focused on the darkness beside the house as you try to trace his line of sight. Without a word, he springs up, ice falling to the grass as he runs around the house, looking like he really ought to have his torch and gun out, this is his ‘calculated emergencies only’ run. You trot after him, rounding the corner of the house just in time to see him catch your grandmama by her shoulders before she steps into the busy street, cars whizzing past as she blinks at your boyfriend, and he turns her on her feet to come back around the house. 

You take her by the shoulders as Aaron locks the gate this time, and you feel your eyes welling with tears at how wonderful a man you’ve found. One that will chase your great grandmother without hesitation, not a thought spared for his already tenderized family jewels which are no doubt screaming at him to sit back down. You come face to face with most of your extended family, who all ran after you both to see what all the commotion was about, and your mother rushes over to take your grandmama into her arms, thanking Aaron profusely as she turns to take the matriarch of the family to bed. 

You take your moment, as the family all turn around, following the pair back into the house. You wrap your arms tightly around Aaron, breathing a shaky breath as his arms wrap around you just as tight. You move yourself up to give him a kiss, body pressed against his as he responds with a whimper in the back of his throat and you jump back, realizing you’d pinned his poor traumatized package between you. 

“Sorry! Sorry.” He cuts you off with a bruising kiss, bodies now a safe distance apart as he takes his chance to kiss you the way he’s wanted to for over an hour now. Ever since he spoke to your dad, and learned just how highly you’d been speaking of your beloved boyfriend all these months. 

“Don’t be sorry, angel. I love you, your big, crazy family and all. I love all of you. So, please, stop apologizing, because I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He thumbs the tear from your eyes, whether they’re from the adrenaline of almost seeing your beloved grandmother struck by a car, or from the tenderness of this moment, he isn’t sure. But either way, he’s handled serial killers, rapists, arsonists, shooters, bombers, and now your cousin Davie’s sharp left kick. He will handle everything life throws at him from now on, with an extra spring in his step. Because he has you. Yes, that includes the people who created you.

“That being said, I really need to lie down. I had like, four standards in half an hour and although I know you’d love me ball-less, I would really like it if they don’t fall off just yet.” You sniffle a laugh, moving an arm around his waist as you promise to lead him to your childhood bedroom. He can look at every ugly yearbook photo he wants to. He’s even earned the right to read your atrocious love notes you wrote to a celebrity when you were seventeen and convinced he was in love with you. This only seems a fair trade for his black and blue balls he’ll have to waddle into the office with, tomorrow.

tags: @montyfandomlove , @pastanoodles11 , @ssamorganhotchner , @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl , @ssa-tahlia-obsessions , @p0ssywhippedcream , @14buddy22 , @elenamoncada-ibarra , @supercriminalbean , @ssaspenceswife , @levithestripper , @wearenumberonebutitsaurl, @geminitapestry, @bucxkysdoll, @hotchs-big-hands

#rome's writing #rome's reqs #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch x gn!reader #hotch x gender neutral reader #hotch fanfic #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst

[whaleofatjme1920]

Random mix of characters - sal fisher, alto clef, kondraki, and Ticci Toby - using their s/o’s titties as a pillow and just falling asleep there lmaoo

Sal Fisher, Dr. Clef, Dr. Kondraki, and Toby Falling Asleep on Their SO’s Chest

[GN!Afab reader]

[Warnings: it,,, gets a little suggestive? I mean, not really imo but be warned I do talk about tits. MINORS DNI.]

[AN: I describe ALL titties here (it’s kept very general; I don’t want to leave anyone out!!) but know my love is to those in the IBTC bc I’m biased <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Sal Fisher

Whatever’s comfortable is comfortable. Cares more about falling asleep to the sound of your heartbeat rather than the flesh on your chest. That said he has no preference whatsoever. I think Sal is boob guy through and through, loves them all. Literally.

I honestly think he’s a little shy telling you he wants to fall asleep in ‘such an intimate area.’ This doesn’t change if you were amab either! Sal isn’t a terribly bold guy. He’s always so respectful about asking too but doesn’t make it awkward. It’s a very natural thing between you two.

But he finds comfort snuggling up on to her chest and resting there. He’s worried he’ll like, suffocate you somehow? But it becomes to natural after a while he doesn’t even bat an eye. Mostly does this for nap purposes, sometimes for cuddle reasons. He actually prefers your head on his chest when cuddling!

He thinks you’re soft there. That’s all I really have to say on that. That and he gets to head your heartbeat, which makes the naps so enjoyable.

Dr. Clef

He’s a creepy man and makes lots of crude comments about “milkers” because he unfortunately was allowed access to tiktok but he doesn’t give a shit about the actual size. You could wear AAs and he’d still call them milkers.

Anyways yeah he’s gonna be your weighted blanket so buckle up baby. He won’t let you go. He wants a nap? Boom. Head down on your chest, he buries his face in them like he wants to suffocate and sleeps. Knocks right out. He’s also admittedly the most casual when it comes to this as well, using your breasts as a pillow whenever he feels like it.

He thinks that’s the most comfortable part of your body. Purely physically speaking—he does actually love you. Like clef is a pretty decent partner when he wants to be.

He finds it quite relaxing in the sense of de-stressing from the day. He’s kinda bad at coping mechanisms and doesn’t know how ask for help. So, when he wants to take a nap on your chest, and you’re willing, let him. He needs it. Needs you.

Dr. Kondraki

He’s one of those guys that doesn’t care about size but might lean towards medium (whatever that means, what even classifies as medium??). But regardless of size, I don’t think he’s really too crazy about falling asleep on your chest that much.

It’s not really against you, but he’s busy. Like really busy. Doesn’t want to slow down and cuddle that much at all! But on the rare occasion he’s too tired and you’re begging him to rest? Yeah, that’s the first place he’ll rest his head as long as you’re able.

He thinks your heartbeat relaxes him and he honestly enjoys the warmth. You tend to run your fingers through his hair, sometimes braiding it, and it puts him right out. He feels safe just being held by you.

Enjoy it while it lasts the man won’t do this often. It’s just not in him. Sometimes, late at night you’ll get him to crack and he’ll place his head on your chest, getting lost in the softness but most of the times no. So really, enjoy it while it lasts.

Toby

Yeah look at him and tell me he doesn’t have an affinity for boobs. I think, purely aesthetically speaking because this is sfw, he likes the shape and well, everything about them. He won’t ever call them milkers but he does call them your chest pillows.

Yes, he is always laying his head on them. Always. You often can’t get him to stop when the two of you are together. He gives you these puppy dog eyes and asks if he can cuddle and it always entails him resting his head on your chest.

He will bury his face in them and eventually pass out. You think it’s due to the lack of oxygen at first but Toby doesn’t care, your boobs are soft and he’s sleeping. Don’t wake him even if it feels like he’s stopped breathing.

The whole thing is kind of a safety thing for him. He feels safe with you like this, and well, he’s comfortable. Your body is soft and comfortable to him. Normally, he feels this weird need to be a protector and provide to prove something but when you let him lay his head down on your chest? It kinda changes. He won’t admit it, but he likes being taken care of that way.

#minors dni #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x y/n #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x reader #dr clef x reader #dr alto clef x reader #dr benjamin kondraki x reader #dr kondraki x reader

[well-what-did-you-expect]

fluff alphabet A, F, N, X for the tmnt 2012 turtles please? :D

absolutely! i hope you enjoy :)

notes: headcanon style, implied gn!reader, pronouns used: you/your and they/them

*don’t mention how this was requested months ago and i fell off the grid*

Fluff Alphabet with the Turtles: A, F, N, and X

Leonardo "Leo" Hamato

A - Attraction (What they look for in a partner, their type)

Leo would love a partner who’s independent. Someone who can take care of themselves, but also someone who wouldn’t hesitate to ask him if they need help. Leo strikes me as a man who loves curves, no matter how you identify. Thick thighs, bit of a booty, bit of a tummy, he’s head over heels.

F - Family (If they want children and how many if so)

Leo strikes me as a guy who would love to have a family one day. Maybe a little rugrat or 2, a boy and a girl.

N - No (Dealbreakers, what can and will break the relationship apart)

Leo’s a leader, he’s already got enough on his plate watching out for his team/brothers. If you’re too dependent on him, it’s a dealbreaker.

X - X-Ray (How well they can read you)

Leo isn’t the best at reading you, he’s just above Donnie. If you don’t hint or tell him, he will almost never figure out how you’re feeling.

Raphael "Raph" Hamato

A - Attraction (What they look for in a partner, their type)

Raph is into those who are tough, not just physically, but mentally too. He likes when his partner can hold their own, and boy, oh boy, does he love when he can spar with his partner and not have to go too easy on them.

F - Family (If they want children and how many if so)

As we’ve seen, Raph is big on pets. He wouldn’t really want kids, 1, maybe 2, but mostly expect a pet or 2 or 3.

N - No (Dealbreakers, what can and will break the relationship apart)

Like Leo, being dependent on him is a dealbreaker. He needs his space at times and if you’re constantly coming to him for whatever reason that he doesn’t classify as a good reason, he’ll lose interest fast.

X - X-Ray (How well they can read you)

Raph isn’t the best at reading you but out of his brothers, he’s second best, just under Mikey. It may take him a bit to understand when you’re upset or something’s bothering you, but he will eventually understand and treat you accordingly.

Donatello "Donnie" Hamato

A - Attraction (What they look for in a partner, their type)

Like Leo, Donnie strikes me as a guy who’s into independence. Yes, he likes being needed, but he also likes that you can take care of yourself. He doesn’t really have a physical type, he’s more a personality guy than a looks guy, although he does appreciate the beauty in his partner.

F - Family (If they want children and how many if so)

Donnie doesn't strike me as a family man. I don't think he would want a big family, if he would want one at all. He’d be okay with a small pet, like a goldfish or maybe a bird, but not anything bigger or higher maintenance. If you manage to convince him to start a family, he would most likely want to stop after 1.

N - No (Dealbreakers, what can and will break the relationship apart)

If there is no support in the relationship. Donnie works for hours on end on projects and experiments, so if he's excited to show you his latest robot and you aren't in the slightest bit interested, then it's not gonna work for him.

X - X-Ray (How well they can read you)

Donnie isn't the best at reading you, he's usually unaware that you're upset until you make him aware by straight up telling him.

Michaelangelo "Mikey" Hamato

A - Attraction (What they look for in a partner, their type)

Mikey isn't one to focus on the physical aspects of their partner. Mikey's ideal type would be someone who they can laugh and joke around with, someone they can have fun with (pranking people together, gaming together, skating together).

F - Family (If they want children and how many if so)

Mikey would love to have a family, and a big one at that. He would want a lot of kiddos and animals running around. I feel like he would want more daughters than sons. 3 daughters and 2 sons.

N - No (Dealbreakers, what can and will break the relationship apart)

If the relationship is too serious, there's barely any laughs or goofing off, is a dealbreaker for Dr. Prankenstein. Mikey's a big goofball and loves when they can joke around with their partner.

X - X-Ray (How well they can read you)

Mikey is the best at reading you. He can tell when you're upset because you don't laugh at his jokes or want to play games with him (both of which is an often occurrence in your relationship).

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader

[mitsies]

lover ; nakahara chuuya

chuuya didn't realize how much he wanted to be loved until he met you.

chuuya nakahara x gn reader, pining, falling in love, first kiss, confessions, reader is a bartender, new year's eve - wc: 4.2k

nakahara chuuya is usually a talker.

he’s many things, really- a talker, a fighter, a killer, a worker- but typically, he talks.

he talks about big things and even bigger pictures, about his strengths and his prowess. he can also be classified as an egotist on occasions.

but today, he is none of those things.

today, nakahara chuuya is a watcher.

he observes you from his barstool, head laid out on the cold, polished counter. you flicker about your domain, pouring new glasses of intoxicating beverages and laughing with customers.

besides chuuya tonight are his colleagues, who are all unsure what to make of their friend's sudden spell of silence.

they laugh and ask, "is your head on right," with a jovial smack on the back. chuuya snorts in response and resumes his watching.

you move around your bar like a dancer, with a practiced ease and familiarity that would take years to build, but you can't be much older than him.

your eyes sparkle like diamond when you crack jokes with customers, like they're the funniest people in the world. there is an intelligence behind your expression, a sense of awareness beyond what you allow yourself to present.

you seem a little inhuman. chuuya wonders if that's the alcohol talking.

his friends are chatting amongst each other, leaving him to sit on his lonesome with his empty glass of red wine. he's almost surprised when you slide over to his corner, with an unwavering semi-smile plastered on your face.

"doing alright over here, nakahara?" your voice is honeyed and he meets your eyes, rising from his slouched stature.

"i'm pretty good."

you look like you don't believe him, but you maintain your customer-service grin. "you sure? you seem a bit slumped."

chuuya allows himself to return your smile. his is equally as manufactured, and he thinks you can tell. "everything's alright. worry about yourself, you've got quite a business going."

he refers to this establishment, a new one opened and operated by you- one where he's already a regular. you turn your head bashfully.

"i'm telling you, it's the wine. i get the good shit, y'know."

chuuya laughs and means it. "i can drink to that."

you smile again, but this time, it's real. you pour him another glass of wine and slide it across the counter. "this one's on me."

he lifts the glass with a nod, before taking a sip. "i owe you, then."

"i'll keep that in mind."

you have, unknowingly, made chuuya's life a living hell.

in his line of work, he can't afford to be distracted, or soft, or human in any sense of the term. he really, really should not be letting anything get under his skin in the way you have managed.

your smile creeps along the edges of his thoughts. your laughter sounds throughout the seams of his brain. he can't seem to get you off his mind, no matter how hard he tries.

it's bad, to the point where others are catching on- he has noticed. his colleagues have noticed. you have noticed.

every night, he and his rotating group of companions visit your bar, where you happily serve them and converse like you're old friends. and in your presence, chuuya falls silent.

it's something that takes even him by surprise- chuuya is a talker. he's a fighter. he's a man of many words and even more opinions, but around you, he can't seem to speak with his usual brazenness.

it's maybe a week after chuuya has noticed his subdued personality, and he's sitting in your bar again, mulling over his usual glass of red wine.

you, as per usual, are in your dance around the counter, a blur of practiced smiles and pouring drinks. the air smells heavy, laden with the fragrances of alcohol and vanilla.

again, he is watching you, and again, you pause in front of him.

you stand still for a beat, and chuuya realizes he hasn't seen you hold on for a moment until now. you wear a contemplative expression as you try to think of what to say. you lean across the counter, resting on your forearms, and look at him.

(chuuya isn't sure what the effect you have on him is, but it's amplified tenfold now. his heart feels like it's burning in his chest and his blood is warming underneath his skin in a way he's unfamiliar with. he doesn't know what's wrong, but he thinks he likes it.)

"you've been off recently, nakahara. i asked you this a bit ago, but are you sure everything's fine?"

chuuya resents your kindness, and he despises how his stomach turns and how his heart thunders and he is suddenly speechless again, only because you care a tiny bit about him.

"promise. everything's okay." you don't reply, and you look like you don't believe him, so he continues:

"work's just been kicking my ass recently. nothing i can't handle."

with this, you allow your concern to fade off your face. you glance behind you, and call out to your coworker. they yell something back and you nod, smiling again at chuuya.

"give me a minute?"

you don't give him a chance to reply, already slipping out from behind the bar through a backdoor. you haven't even been gone a second, and chuuya still feels a strange emptiness inside him, like the latch containing it had been opened.

and then, you reappear through another door, this time outside the bar's area and chuuya feels like himself again.

"let's go out back, yeah?" chuuya didn't speak, he simply stood and followed you out a back door.

the alleyway that you had stepped out into was a sudden chill. chuuya had almost forgotten the late hour and the yokohama winds within the warm ambiance of your bar. he bites back a shiver as you remove something from your pants pockets- a pack of cigarettes.

you glanced at him. "want one?"

and for a reason unbeknownst to him, chuuya declines. he's never been one to turn down a cigarette- what changed?

(he has a sneaking suspicion that it's the sudden shock of warmth that appears when you look at him, that makes him feel more alive than he thought he ever could.)

he stands next to you in silence as you produce a lighter from the same pocket, flicking the spark wheel with your thumb. little embers fly, highlighting your face in the night, as you keep trying to light your cigarette to no avail.

"here- let me."

chuuya's not sure where his head is at when he steps infinitely closer to you, taking the lighter from your hands. the cigarette hangs from your lips like the words at the tip of his tongue.

the cigarette lights after a few attempts, and you smile at him. "thanks, nakahara."

you are both still standing close enough to feel each other's breath, and probably way closer than he needed to get to accomplish the task at hand, but he doesn't step away. neither do you.

chuuya nakahara is a talker, he reminds himself. he is a talker and a fighter, and he is not usually a watcher. he decides to do what he's best at. he turns to view the street from the alleyway. he speaks.

"i always forget how beautiful the city is at night. with all the lights and everything, y'know."

you take a drag and nod. "i agree. but honestly, i think i prefer the countryside."

at this, your companion looks at you disbelievingly and you let out a huff of laughter. (chuuya hopes you don't notice how he suddenly feels lighter than air. he made you laugh. he did.)

"don't get me wrong," you start, "i would never live there. i don't think i could. i visited a friend there once, and it was so... mundane."

you recall the memory with a faux shudder, and chuuya has never wanted to hear a person speak more than he has right now.

"it might be interesting for some people. but the city- it's so much more exciting, i think."

there is a small silence as your words are considered.

"does it ever bother you? how dangerous it is, here especially?"

chuuya isn't sure why he cares about your answer. he's never cared about one person's concerns or safety above anyone else's, so he's not too sure why he's asking. he doesn't dwell on it for too long, opting to ignore the hidden emotions underlying his actions.

"i think it makes it more fun."

he's almost surprised when he hears your voice, so lost in his own thoughts that he'd all but forgotten the question. and upon processing your answer, he's even more confused.

"fun?"

smoke fills the air once again. the two of you watch it billow away into the night sky.

"i'm probably joking," you smile. "it does worry me, a little. but i try not to think about it."

the quiet settles around you once more, and chuuya takes the opportunity to look at you. he thinks you look close to angelic underneath the moonlight, and his feelings are confirmed when you look at him, cigarette at your lips, eyes sparkling as you grin.

"and besides," you continue, looking him in his eyes, "it's my home. someday, i want it to be my family's home."

chuuya was a talker. he was a fighter. he was a killer. he was a worker. he never thought of himself as anything but- your words, though, were a brick through his pane of glass.

he allowed himself to entertain the idea of himself, chuuya nakahara, as a lover.

never before has he considered this, but maybe it's a time for change, and previously, you've seemed to be a catalyst for such development. you made him feel things he's never felt, you made him consider a new option of living- maybe you could make him a new him.

chuuya nakahara, the lover. he smiled at the thought.

you seemed to take his silence, though, as something else.

"eugh, sorry, i didn't mean to get all weird and sentimental there," you said, the manufactured customer service laugh slipping back into your speech, and chuuya frowned.

"no," he says, cutting through your backtracking, "it's not weird. i like hearing what you have to say."

you don't reply. a grey plume escapes with your next breath, as you tap the cigarette out on the brick wall next to you.

"nakahara chuuya," you start. he looks at you for what must be the hundredth time this night, but it still feels like it's the first.

"you might be the death of me."

he smiles.

"you might be right."

chuuya's unsure of when exactly he realizes the feeling he holds for you is love. he doesn't like to think about it too much, but he's pretty sure that it was a build-up of the words and colors and stars you made him feel.

he thinks it happened slowly, over the course of his time as a regular since that night you'd first spoken personally. every day since then, during his visits, you'd take him out back, and he'd light your cigarette.

the two of you would talk aimlessly about nothing, conversations lighter than air and amicable teasing sweeter than sugar. these nights became his favorites, and when he was unable to participate, he found himself missing them with a fervor he didn't think himself capable of- your absence grated on him, like knives on a cutting board, and chuuya found that you were the only remedy.

and despite this plainly obvious fact that he was head over heels for you, the local bartender, he'd never say a word.

and that was because you were the local bartender. you were sugar-sweet and honeyed like candy, and you were too good for him in every sense of the phrase.

you'd never killed anyone. you loved the city. you had friends you bought trinkets for. you dreamed of visiting jakarta, indonesia. your favorite subject was history. you loved music, and you used to play an instrument. you wore vanilla perfume. you were good, so good, and chuuya hardly believed he was human.

he was mori's lapdog. he was a killer. he was a port mafia executive. he was a fighter. he was arrogant, and mean, and selfish, and he was decidedly not good- and as much as chuuya wanted to be a lover for you, just for you- he didn't think himself capable.

but he kept coming down to your bar around 9 on weekdays, and he kept ordering red wine, and he kept talking to you and lighting your cigarettes, all as if he wasn't hopelessly in love with you.

he told himself that this would help him get over it. he told himself that he was doing himself a favor. but he really, truly wasn't, because every time he looked at you he became a little more infatuated.

he really couldn't help himself from returning to you every night he could. it was like an addiction- he could never get enough of you. he'd never be sick of your smile when he entered through the door, and he'd never tire of your bountiful conversation and intricate ideas.

sometimes, chuuya would even allow his mind to wander to the impossible depths of his dreaming. he'd find himself picturing you behind the bar, with him by your side. the both of you chatted and slung drinks, and he pictured the passing touches and lingering hands that would be allowed if you were his.

chuuya nakahara wanted to be a lover for you. he wanted to work with you, he wanted to live with you, he wanted to kiss you.

but he couldn't have that.

his current position and his dedication and devotion to the said position would never allow him to leave. being a port mafia executive was demanding as it was dangerous. in good conscience, chuuya couldn't allow you to become roped up into that.

you were so human, your blood ran red and your eyes shone with mirth. you wanted to have a family in this city, and chuuya was part of the organization that made this city so dangerous.

(you were too good for him, too good to be true. and as much as chuuya wishes to join you, he doesn't think he ever could- he wants you to be safe more than he wants you to be his.)

he thinks that now that he's recognized his infatuation with you, he's gotten better at being subtle about it, though. chuuya's never been the greatest at keeping secrets, but he's pretty proud of himself for holding it together thus far.

that is, he's proud until he accidentally spills it all.

it's a slow saturday at your bar. save for a few people scattered throughout the tables, your establishment is almost empty. at the bar, chuuya sits alone, talking with you whilst you prepare drinks.

he likes tonight, he decides. for the first time in many nights, your pace is slowed and calm, and an air of peace hangs around the bar. the only noises are the quiet chatter of the scarce customers, the buzzing of the dim overhead lights, and the hum of music coming from the speakers in the seating area.

"i'm surprised you don't have anything going on tonight," you drop casually in conversation. chuuya blinks.

"is tonight something special?"

you give him a bemused look, nodding. "it's new year's eve. in like, two hours or so, it'll be a new year."

"oh."

chuuya isn't sure how he missed that. he takes a sip of his wine. "new year already, huh? that's..."

"wild." your voice is soft. he nods.

"i guess i forgot about it."

you lean across the counter, so you're closer to him. he notices that you're wearing something sparkly on your eyelids. he resists the urge to touch your face.

"been busy?"

he laughs. "yeah, the usual. work and everything, y'know."

you smile sympathetically. "i get it."

except you don't get it. you don't understand the work he does and the stress he's under and you don't understand how much he loves you, because even he doesn't fully get it.

chuuya wants to kiss you, right then, as you meet his eye across the bar counter. he almost doesn't realize when his gloved hands move to brush a piece of hair behind your ear and out of your face.

your lips part like you're about to say something, but no words come out. chuuya wants to kiss you, and he must be drunker than he remembers, because he's fumbling over his words clumsily when he says:

"i like your face. it's so... nice. it's so... i like it. can i touch it?"

you blink, but you don't pull away. "you've had too much wine."

chuuya's hand wanders toward your cheek. it presses against the skin of your face, and he feels how hot your skin is underneath his touch.

chuuya knows he shouldn't, and so he pulls away. the air smells like red wine and vanilla, and clarity strikes as soon as you're out of his hold.

he watches as you rebound, back snapping straight, turning to clean a shot glass to hide your flushed face.

chuuya is stunned, and a little disturbed by his own actions. he wasn't right to touch you, he shouldn't have- he stares at the red fluid in his glass, not speaking a word.

he wants to kiss you. he wants to kiss you, but he can't. and he can't lie about why anymore.

"have i ever told you what i do for work?"

you glance back at him. lana del rey's voice hums quietly from the speakers. "no, i don't think so."

he empties his glass, tasting the blood in his mouth mixed with the wine as he bites the inside of his lip.

"i'm a port mafia executive."

your gaze hasn't left chuuya, and he feels your eyes boring into his skull. he can't quite look at you. he feels ashamed, for some reason, to tell you his job which he'd previously been so proud of. he wants you to keep looking at him, even though your eyes sting.

"i figured."

now, it's chuuya's turn to look at you. he's surprised when he sees no disgust, hurt, anger, nothing of the sort written on your face. "you did?"

you meet his eyes and smile. "the things you talk about, the way you avoid certain conversations- yeah, i kind of guessed you were affiliated with the mafia in some way. you're not the best liar."

a flush of indignity spreads across chuuya's face, and he's suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "okay, woah, hey-"

but then you laugh. you laugh like chuuya didn't just tell you his biggest secret, and you laugh like he didn't just basically tell you he kills people for a living. you laugh like nothing's wrong, and chuuya is again hit with the urge to kiss you- instead, he just laughs with you.

"why didn't you tell me earlier?"

your voice cuts through the dulling amusement. he doesn't sense any resentment or hatefulness in your voice- just a genuine curiosity.

he feels his own consciousness settling back in, and he takes a moment before deciding how to respond. chuuya was a talker, sure, but he's never been quite graceful with his words.

"because i think," he hesitates, "i think that i thought you'd hate me."

you tilt your head, urging him to continue, so he does.

"hell, i don't like the things i have to do. i figured you'd see me like.. like i am. like i'm cruel and inhumane and all that shit."

and suddenly, your hand is on his, and you're leaning across the bar counter again. your skin is cold and his is warm, and he feels whole.

"i don't think i could ever think that." you pull away just as quickly as you'd arrived, and chuuya feels infinitely colder without you there.

but the warmth is regained throughout the night. the conversation begins to flow like it always has, but with an unspoken breach in the dam- there are no secrets tonight.

it's perfect and quiet, and the bar slowly empties as closing draws near. it's 11 pm at night, an hour until the new year, when you exit your place from behind the bar and flip the sign to 'closed'.

chuuya stands and helps you close. you put the chairs up on the tables after he wipes everything down. he washes glassware and you make sure all the lights and signs are off.

this isn't the first night chuuya has assisted you with making sure everything's in order before you both leave for the night. he often stays when he can, relishing any extra time he can spend with you.

but tonight is different. the new shattered tension creates a dip in the gravity around you both, a lull that pulls you together. he finds you by his side more often. he catches you staring every now and again, and it takes everything in him to not make a stupid comment about it.

it's almost midnight by the time the both of you are done. it took longer than usual today, perhaps because both of you had taken liberties with conversation more than usual.

"tonight was nice," you sigh, slumping against the outside of the bar counter.

"it was quiet," chuuya agreed. you glance at your phone, eyes widening.

"oh."

"everything good?"

"yeah," you say, showing him your phone screen. "it's just 2 minutes til midnight."

he looks at you, and he thinks you look gorgeous in the lack of lighting. your hardly face is illuminated by the dim yellow lights from the back storeroom behind you, but your eyes still glitter and your smile is still bright enough to burn the whole room down.

"it's funny that we're both here, then." chuuya isn't sure what's possessing him to be bold, but he thinks that it's because he doesn't have anything left to be scared for now.

you raise a brow. "how so?"

he slides a step closer and faces you. "it's funny because i've wanted to kiss you for the longest time, and now we're both here, on new year's eve."

this is the first time tonight you've looked surprised. your lips part again in a word that you don't speak, and suddenly you're looking at his mouth with an expression he thinks he loves.

you gather your bearings for a few beats, before replying. "what was stopping you?"

chuuya's gloved hand finds its way to your waist. "i guess i was nervous," he shrugged, "but not anymore."

"so... can i kiss you?"

the clock strikes midnight, and before chuuya can react, your lips are on his. once he realizes that you're kissing him, he reacts instantly, his other hand flying to your jaw.

you smell like vanilla but taste like smoke, and chuuya realizes that he wouldn't mind growing old with you.

it's a new year when the both of you finally pull away, faces flushed and skin hot. you're the first to speak. "well, happy new year to you, chuuya."

he grins crookedly. "yeah. you too."

both of you stand for a few moments. unmoving, until he starts.

"so... be my girlfriend?"

and you laugh again, and god, he thinks he's in heaven. "yeah, sure, i don't see why not."

"okay. cool. cool."

"yeah. cool."

"i guess i, uh," he begins, glancing toward the door, "i should probably go."

"don't." your answer is quick and blunt, and you catch him off guard. he looks at you, amusement dancing behind his smile as your lips pursed in embarrassment.

"what i'm saying is don't go out now, it's late and people are always drunk off their asses. you'll get hit by a car or something."

"didn't i just tell you i'm port mafia? i can deal with some drunks."

"i know but," you trail off, looking away.

it clicks for him, suddenly. "oh. you live in the apartment building above this bar, right?"

"i do."

"so let's go."

chuuya nakahara thinks he might be a lover when he sees the way you unlock the door to your apartment.

he thinks he might be a lover when he watches you almost trip whilst kicking your shoes off by the doorway.

he thinks he might be a lover when you laugh and joke with him about your home.

and chuuya nakahara knows he is a lover when he is lying next to you in bed.

you're cold against his warmth, and you fit so perfectly next to him that he thinks he might've been born a lover, just for you, in the way he'd always wished he was.

you wear long flannel cat pajama pants and an oversized white shirt, having changed out of your work clothes. chuuya mumbles words into your arm as you talk ceaselessly about every little thing.

at some point, you fall asleep in his hold. and at some point, chuuya nakahara finally believes that he isn't just a talker, or a watcher, or a fighter, or a killer- he believes he can be your lover, too.

author's note: don't pay much attention to the fine details 😊 happy new year!

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya #chuya nakahara #chuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuya x reader #nakahara chūya #nakahara chūya x reader #chūya nakahara x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #reader insert

[kvrokasaa]

Please, Don't Leave Me

Karasu x reader

cw: Gn!pronouns but afab!reader, reader has female genitalia, implied cunnilingus, and sex, suggestive themes at the end, angst-ish, fluff, kinda forced plot ngl, Karasu's accent might be off, not proofread, Otoya being respectful to a woman 😨, Isagi and Bachira are mentioned once.

2.5k words

Today felt off. Well, more specifically, the past week has felt off. You don’t know if you’re the only one feeling this way. But it’s like the shift in your relationship has turned.

Every time you try and get attention from your boyfriend, he waves you off. Literally. He waves his hand, acting as if you’re a fly pestering him.

You don’t know what started this behavior. Just two weeks ago you both were fine. Visiting your family and having a nice time. You know it wasn’t anything your family said, they don’t pry into your relationships. But you can’t seem to figure it out for the life of you.

Just last night when you came over to his place, you tried to ask if he wanted to watch a movie with you. It was movie night, every week you both dedicate a night to watching movies, whatever happens, happens. But Karasu simply shrugged and said, “ ’s late and I have early practice tomorrow.”

Karasu never shrugs off movie night.

As to get some clarification for why this is happening, you decide to show up at his practice. And it wasn’t early morning, which made you even more confused.

So much questions and so little answers.

As you make your way to the field, they stopped playing for minute to catch their breaths and drink some water, you pass by a few of his teammates. They all give you confused glances.

You’ve never once showed up to his practices. Only to his games. It’s not because you didn’t want to, he just never asked and you didn’t want to intrude.

You carry a little bag in your hand. He forgot his lunch and, being a good s/o, you decided to bring it with you.

“Hey baby,” the words come out as you rest your head on his back. “You forgot your lunch, here.”

You hand him the bag. It’s already past noon, but you’re guessing he didn’t have anything to eat unless his friends offered some of their food.

He only grunted in response and took the bag from your hand, rather forcefully too. “Thanks.” His response was curt.

He made his way to the benches and set the bag down.

“Why have you been ignoring me,” you’re not sure ignoring was the right word, but it was among the similarities of the traits he’s been showing you this past week. “I’m not ignoring ya.” His voice was laced with malice. You don’t know why, but your body reacted before your brain as it flinched a little.

His words, even the mean ones, never seemed to startle you. But after the agonizing thoughts every night, which caused less and less sleep, you couldn’t think straight. Which resulted in your body moving before you could think to stop it.

If he was concerned or remorseful about his attitude, he didn’t show it. His face was hardened and still, as if it was sculpted.

“It doesn’t feel like that. You’ve been putting me off all week. Not even a good morning text. What’s…” Your voice died off as you saw him turn around and glare at you. He’s acting like you broke one of his million dollar vases, which he does own unironically.

“Is that what ya want? A ‘good morning’ text, a ‘how was your day?’ text? I’m working my ass off all day to provide for me and you and yer complaining that I don’t show enough love? Just be grateful for once in our fucking relationship.”

You wanted to bite back, to tell him that you work too. Sure your job doesn’t pay as well as his does, but he also has the inheritance from his family to back him up. You don’t. You get up every morning and work, you don’t complain either. Sure, what you’re doing now can be classified as complaining, but you rarely ever open your mouth to complain. And you are grateful, you don’t know how many times you’ve been grateful in your relationship with him. It’s not a chore for you, but he’s acting like you’ve never said, ‘thank you,’ to him once.

But you bite your tongue when he opens his mouth again. “I don’t think ya understand, Y/n. I play soccer for me; this is the only chance I get to be away from you. But now you show up and have to ruin everything. Get it through yer thick skull, I don’t want you around unless it’s necessary.”

Your eyes widen at his last sentence. Did he think you were a chore to be around? Did he only want you around when he felt it was convenient? Did he ever think of you as his s/o?

You aren’t one to cry in public places, sometimes you even hold back your tears in your own bedroom. You don’t like the feeling of tears sliding down your cheeks. You hate the feeling of pain and failure. You’ve never even cried in front of your own boyfriend and you have been together for six months now.

But you can’t stop the tear from falling down your cheek and onto the grassy field. You manage to stop the next one, and the one after that. You sniffle and nod your head. You have nothing left to say to him, if he wants space, then you’ll give him space. This is just him setting his boundaries, right?

Right.

“Okay.” You don’t know how, but you manage to hold your head up and keep your tears at bay, along with your voice neutral. “If you really feel that way, then I’ll leave.”

There were many implications behind your words. You could mean the relationship or just the field where you stand in now. You honestly don’t know which one of them you meant. But you let your legs take you away from his one happy place.

He chose his career over you, and you’re fine with that. But you being fine with that doesn’t mean you will settle into this little routine.

You’ll dip your feet into the water, see how much of an impact his words leave in your relationship. If you don’t like the ripples in the water, then you’ll just leave.

He hears scoffs and snorts from his team as he snaps back to reality. “What the fuck dude? All they did was ask you a simple question.” Isagi chimes in. “Yeah man. You did not need to blow up that like.”

Otoya looks over at Isagi and nods his head, “I’m going with Isagi on this one.”

Karasu scoffs. “Shut it, fuckboy. You-” “Don’t tell me what to do moron. You made them fucking cry.”

He made you cry? You’ve never cried before, at least not in front of him. Was he so lost in thought that he didn’t even see your tears? Did his words hurt you that much?

“You gotta fix this before it’s too late~.” Bachira voiced Karasu's thoughts.

...

Your house seems bare and lonely without the smile on your face, or the warm touches from him. Your plants seem to reflect your emotions, droopy and sad.

You make your way to your bedroom, ready to sulk in bed for the rest of the day. Thanks to it being a weekend, you have the day off. Which means you could sulk for as long as you want.

You pull the weighted blanket onto your body and sigh contentedly at the comfort. This is the only comfort you need right now, a stupid rom-com, some junk food, and a good amount of weight.

Your phone goes off before you can delve into the movie too much. You sigh, already knowing who it’s from. You picked it up and just as you guessed, Karasu.

He had a written a whole paragraph about how sorry he is and that he would be glad to make it up to you. You opted to just text him back with:

It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it haha, it’s late so I’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight!

You already know that he’s going to think something’s up. Let him, he deserves the cold shoulder, an insidious voice sang in the back of your mind. As much as you want to brush the voice away, you know that it’s true. He does deserve the cold shoulder. You’ve been nothing but good to him and he treats you like this?

You let your thoughts run wild and finally determine that you'll respect his words for a bit. If he wants you to leave him alone, you'll leave him alone. You won't go to his practices and games or make him his lunches anymore.

A few hours passed by as you dwelled in your bed. You should probably text some of your friends and ask for a night out. But honestly, you just wanted to stay in and eat all the junk you can.

You've watched at least three rom-com movies; some made you laugh and some made you cry. You want to say that you mainly cringed, but what you mainly did was wish Karasu could act like some of the male leads.

Yeah, he remembers your favorite food and gets you as many things as you want. But you wish he would put away his pride and apologize.

Before you knew it, your eyes drifted off while your mind rambled about Karasu.

...

The smell of pancakes and eggs woke you from your slumber. You yawned and stretched your muscles as you made your way out of bed. You weren't too shocked to see Karasu in your kitchen with the 'kiss the cook' apron you gifted him as a joke on his birthday.

When you two had an argument, he would always cook you food, buy you things, and spend the entire day with you. But those things are meaningless after the argument you had the other day.

But you still let him try.

He smiles when he sees your sleepy face. But his smile turned into a pout when he saw your runny mascara and puffy/red eyes. He did that. He made you cry. Karasu walks up to you and brings you into his arms.

"I'm sorry pretty baby," he kissed your forehead. "I don't deserve you."

You snort at that; there's something you both can agree on. He smiles when he hears your snort. Step one: make you laugh: check.

You both sit at the table and eat the delicious food he made. Contrary to popular opinion, Karasu is actually a good cook. The food was gone in minutes.

"I have a game tomorrow," he says as he chews the last bite on his plate. "I can reserve a front-row seat for you, like always."

You give him a kind smile; you want to say no but his puppy eyes are too tempting. "Okay." Your response was curt, you didn't mean anything by it. But Karasu took it as you giving the same attitude he gave you yesterday. He pouted and grabbed your hand, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. "I wanna hear ya cheering f'me, okay?" You nodded your head and he smiled at that, bringing your hand up and kissing it. "That's my pretty baby."

You two spent the whole day talking and shopping. You got the things you needed and wanted, and even more things that Karasu thought would look good on you.

The gifts made you smile, but they held most of the weight behind your fake smile. You didn't want to speak out that you didn't need these meaningless things, you just wanted him to hug you and tell you that he loves you. You know that you just have to speak up about these things, but you don't want to start another argument.

Your tongue was bit through the entire day and night with him.

...

You woke up a bit later than intended, but the sleep was welcomed and needed. You felt like the pain and memories of the past few days have been erased.

You felt like you were forgetting something. You yawned and turned on your phone, then it hit you.

Karasu's soccer game. It's 1:30 in the afternoon, you're sure the game is already halfway through. And it's a thirty-minute drive to the stadium. Which means when you get there, it'll be almost over. So, there's no point in going. So you opted to just grab something to eat and turn on Netflix. Yeah, you feel bad, but honestly, Karasu deserves this. Maybe he'll remember not to catch an attitude with you for no reason.

Karasu on the other hand, is distraught. He doesn't remember how many times he's looked over at the stands.

He thought that you were over the other day. He apologized and made it up to you. He took you shopping and to your favorite restaurant.

His mind was elsewhere and he couldn't get into the flow of the game. His kicks weren't on point and his precision was flawed. The coach called him in and swapped for another player.

"Get your shit together or leave."

Karasu took the latter; he needs to see you.

The drive was long originally, but his thoughts made it longer. Every second he wasn't with you, he felt that it was another second you could up and leave his life.

He finally got there and quickly unlocked your door with the spare key. No boxes, nothing packed, nothing is gone. Air came back into his lungs, and he could finally breathe again.

He rushed to your room, his pout getting deeper as he saw you on your bed watching Netflix.

Your eyes widened as he rushed into your room. You swear this man will give you cardiac arrest one of these days. "What..What are you doing here?" Your eyes followed him as he stalked to your side of the bed where you were lying. "Your game, it hasn't even ended yet." He grabbed your hands before he answered, bringing them up to his cheeks.

"Baby, I'm sorry for being a dickhead, but doncha think it's rude to not come when I asked ya to?" He almost whined out. You pouted as you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs, "I'm sorry," you cooed out. "My handsome boy, I didn't mean to."

He shook his head, "No, don't apologize baby. I shouldn't have yelled at ya. Forgive me, yeah? Just please, don't leave me." He pouted, "I don't think I can go any longer without yer kisses and hugs." He doesn't remember when he got so romantic and cheesy. He used to laugh at people who were obsessed with their s/o and used to call them mediocre. But now here he is, so fucking obsessed with you. He feels like he can't breathe when you don't give him your love. He lives off it.

"I love ya so much, my pretty baby." He brought one of your hands to his lips, peppering kisses all of it as he looked into your eyes. "Ya don't gotta say it back, jus want ya to know."

And you did know, especially through his actions. The way he kisses you, the way he dotes on you, and the way he ate you out for hours. No amount of whines and pleads for him to stop, no amount of " 's too much," were enough to stop him. His tongue and his groans against you made you feel both pain and pleasure. Karasu loves you so much and proved that while he fucked you all night.

a/n: His accent, his smile, him <3333 Karasu is just ahbsdjsdhsdje. I'm acting up for this man

#bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #karasu tabito #karasu tabito x reader #karasu angst #karasu smut #bllk smut #bllk fluff #blue lock #bllk karasu #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄? ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 aaron's in love with you.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 gn!reader (no prns or gendered terms) 𖦹 angst 𖦹 oopsies! 𖦹 still trying to get back into writing. pls spare mercy \(+o+)/ 𖦹 id, personally, classify this as sad 𖦹 haley mention 😟

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 472

The office is quiet—it usually is at this time of night. Hotch hates it; he misses the warmth of his team when he stays back to work this late. The only sound is the quiet hum of the harsh fluorescent lights brightening his office. He tells himself he's here because of this case—that he stays late to prevent horrible things from happening. He's buried away the real reason, but it's slowly reemerging like a zombie from its' grave. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"Where are you, Aaron?" Haley had asked him just this morning.

He had furrowed his brows, unsure of what she was asking, "Right here."

"No," She shook her head, "Aaron, where's your mind? I can't find you anymore. What's happening?"

"Nothing," He says, then, quieter, "It's nothing."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

But it is something.

He's in a mental labyrinth of emotions, stuck between the woman he vowed to love forever and you. With your kind, warm eyes and gentle smiles, Aaron has found solace in you.

He shakes his head, attempting to rid you of his thoughts. This case is important, he reminds himself. There's no room for distractions, and that's what you are. Then he feels guilty because you're not a distraction. You're kind and lovely and such a necessity to this team. It's not your fault he can't think straight around you. Still, he wants to blame you. You and your soft touch and lingering glances—you and your unattainability. And he tries to run to you, but it's like trying to find the end of a rainbow. He can never quite catch you.

But it becomes clear as Aaron stares at the case file before him. He's in love with you, and your presence in his life is a bittersweet reminder of what can't be.

Then, there's Haley, his wife. The woman he vowed to love forever, through sickness and in health: his high school sweetheart and the mother of his son. She's what can be, what has to be.

So he keeps quiet next time you're together. No more hidden grins and coy eye rolls at your sarcasm. He avoids you at all costs, and you feel the sting like he's plunged a dagger into your side.

But he can't escape you in the break room. You watch him walk in, and before you know it, you're beelining towards the door.

"Hotch," You're stern, and he can't escape it, "We need to talk."

He licks his lips before they mold into their usual frown, "What about?"

You whisper, looking at him with tired eyes, "Do you love me?"

Usually shielded with layers of apathy and sarcasm, your vulnerable words surprise him. But the silence that follows is deafening, and your armor is back on in a blink. 

"It's me or her, Aaron."

"I..." He shakes his head, "I can't."

You nod once, "Goodbye, Aaron."

😜 youre welcome!!!

mutuals :3

@hotchfiles @hotchnerbau @ssahotchnerr @bubbly-moonwarrior @zvdvdlvr

#i hate tagging #alas #here we go #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x you #hotch fanfiction #hotch fic #hotch blurb

[starglitterz]

♡ 神っぽいな (GOD-ISH)

❝ look down on me behind your mask, but what are you without it? a candle barely burning can't be said to be alive. ❞

✧ feat ; dottore, gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; toxic relationship between a weirdo and his creation, implied experiments on humans, implied torture, reader is Going Through It, overuse of em dash & italics LOL

✧ a/n ; happy february! i have been Obsessed w this man ever since playing the sumeru archon quest 😵‍💫 idk if this can even be classified as x reader but here we are ! the lyrics i used are from lyrinae's english cover of god-ish (the original is a vocaloid song by pinocchiop) bc i felt like this song rly suits the doctor JSDJKS,,, i hope you all enjoy :) !!

“you disgust me.” you spit the harsh words out, eyes narrowing as you glare at the man (can he even be called a man anymore?) in front of you. “it pains me that my most beautiful creation thinks so lowly of me,” dottore sighs exaggeratedly, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek. the tips of his black gloves are hidden razors, sharp enough to draw blood and that is the sole reason why you don't recoil from his icy touch. yet another addition to the long list of weapons he keeps on his person at all times – the doctor is strangely paranoid for one who claims to be godlike. 

you shudder as he leans towards you, breath warm against the skin you fear he’s going to scratch apart as punishment for your insolence. though dottore designed you to be pristine and perfect, you know better than anyone else that he holds no qualms about damaging what he made with his own hands. you doubt he's ever seen you as a person, simply viewing you as a means to an end in his furious quest to ‘enhance’ humanity – and now you represent nothing more than his success.

a smirk curves dottore’s lips, fangs peeking through like a wolf showing its canines as it hunts its prey, “you really are stunning…” he stalks ever closer, trapping you between his arms as your back presses against the cold steel of his operating table. you don't want to go back there. merely being in this room is bringing back a flood of memories so horrible you’re almost trembling – the doctor does not believe in anesthesia, and so you’ve been wide awake every time he carved you open for the sake of ‘improving’ you. “practically a miracle,” he continues admiring his handiwork in a low murmur, tilting his head ever so slightly as he fixes his gaze on you, red eyes gleaming wickedly in the dark. a sardonic smirk mars his features at the thought – how could you be a a gift from the gods when he doesn't even believe in them?

“get away from me.” you hiss, though there's a barely perceptible tremor in your tone – dottore is your creator, after all. it’d be foolish to go against the man who built you when he could just as simply dismantle you. “come now, don't be like that.” he coos, and the sound of his voice grates against your ears like nails on a chalkboard, “i don't bite. at least not without reason.” he chuckles at his own joke, using one finger to tug at his mouth and show off his serrated teeth – they could pierce through your skin so, so easily.

the doctor’s face is mere inches from yours as he whispers, a sadistic smile gracing his lips at your terrified expression, “scared, are you?” you swallow, willing yourself to ignore the question as you suck in a ragged breath, “i haven’t looked at a mirror since you…” you can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. what word would you even use? after all the time you’ve spent with him, you think you just might be brainwashed enough to say he was simply ameliorating you. “and that is your loss,” dottore chuckles, his hand slipping lower to caress the curve of your neck, his thumb hovering dangerously close to your pulse point, “as i said, you're exquisite.”

you wonder if he can hear your heart beating desperately against your ribcage from fear, then you remember – you don’t have a heart. not anymore. and that makes you even more upset as you hiss, “you ruined me.” for some reason, this strikes a nerve with him, and he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his eyes. “my darling…” his pupils are dilated, and his laugh is almost manic as he replies, “i made you better than your puny human form could even dream of being.” 

“now, you're flawless.” dottore grins, a wild, reckless look in his eyes that reminds you again just how insane he is. “all these years of experiments, of hearing your delicious sobs and pleas…” he pauses for effect, relishing in the stifled whimper that escapes your perfectly crafted mouth as you remember everything he's done to you, “it all culminated in the you that you are now.” “stop.” you beg, but it's worthless now – there's no more bite behind your words, and dottore knows he’s broken you once again. though you've long since realised you will never best him, you still argue with him whenever he brings you to his laboratory, doing your best to fight back with what little mental strength you have left – some part of the doctor wants to cut your pretty head right open to see what's ticking in there and remove the source of your hatred. 

but it matters not, for dottore will continue teaching you the same lesson as many times as you need until you get it through your thick skull. 

he created you, and you would be nothing without him.

( and if you refuse to grasp this concept, he can always create a new version of you – one that doesn't talk back so much. )

i can Never be normal abt scara or dottore,,, anyways this is one of my favourite pieces that i've ever written, and i really hope that you all like it too ! please do let me know what you think :>

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

#✏️ — quill writes ! #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore #zandik #il dottore #the doctor #fatui harbingers #fatui harbinger #fatui x reader #astronetwrk

[mingtinysworld]

Hi there!

I saw your requests are open and I thought, maybe just give it a try 🙈 I've read "addicted" by you, and even though I don't really enjoy reading smut, I do love your writing style.

Sooo, would you be up to write something fluff/angst with Mingi or Wooyoung, and him fighting over something stupid with his girlfriend (reader) and she leaving the dorm/kq building/wherever they fought? Maybe she even turns off the phone or smith to be alone for a bit, but in the end they talk about it and everything is all fluff again? 🥺🙈

If you're not up for writing something like this, don't hesitate to let me know though, no need to force yourself to write it, okay? ☺️

Lovely greetings, Kat ☺️

Hi Kat!!

Thank you for this request, I love it a lot hehe. I can totally imagine Mingi in this situation and I’m a sucker for angst to fluff ugh. I hope you like this! It’s honestly hard for me to just do fluff, but I hope I did it justice and it’s not cringy haha. Thank you for the love and hope you have an awesome day mwah - J

Time for me

Pairing: song mingi x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Summary: you and your boyfriend Mingi come to a misunderstanding and end up hurting each other. He tries to make up with you, trying to prove his never ending love.

You sway to the rhythm of the music, heart pounding from the loud boom of the bass. You’re fairly sober, only having taken two shots of vodka so far, still feeling so bright. So many bodies surround you that you have a hard time finding your friends.

Only one hour ago, you decided that you needed a night out. You called your closest friends, Seonghwa and Yunho, and made plans immediately. You knew the two even before your boyfriend Mingi. He gets along with them quite well, but you’d classify them as more of your best friends.

After a couple more hours, the two boys round you up and you decide to call it a night. They very kindly drop you off at your shared apartment with Mingi, and say their good nights. You turn back to the door and use your key to open up, slightly stumbling from the alcohol in your system.

As you enter, you catch sight of Mingi sitting on the loveseat by the window. His leg is propped up on his knee and his arms are crossed. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look intimidating. You set down your purse and phone on the counter and proceed to take your heels off.

“Hi baby, what’s up?” You say casually.

He scoffs as the side of his mouth goes up bitterly. “Not much, my girlfriend just decided to go out without letting me know, and I’ve been sitting here waiting, for a text perhaps. But what do I get? A fucking update from Seonghwa on his story.”

Your face goes pale from his harsh tone. You honestly were so out of it you didn’t even think of texting Mingi. Figuring you were safe enough with your two friends, you completely forgot about it. Guilt fills you and you look at him apologetically.

“I’m so sorry Min, I totally forgot to text you. I really just needed a night out and I was safe, I promise. You know how great Seonghwa and Yunho are.”

He stands up and is now towering over you, stormy eyes looking at you intently. “You always do this y/n, always leaving me for those two. I’m your boyfriend, so why are you spending more time with them?”

His words surprise you. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous that I’m hanging out with my friends? Mingi, you know damn well that I’m allowed to do that, I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult.” At your words his eyebrows furrow and you have to resist the urge to smooth it down.

“I’m not fucking jealous,” he hisses out. “I would just love it if my girlfriend kept me informed and didn’t act like a total slut all the time.” Immediately he regrets his words. He registers the immense hurt in your eyes and tries to reach out for you. You take in a shuddering breath and step back. Your eyes fill with tears and you speak with a trembling lip.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You choke out.

You storm out before Mingi can get a word out. Almost instantly your phone comes to life, flashing Mingi’s picture on the screen. You can’t believe he has the nerve to call you right now.

Torn between sad and angry, you’re left with only one option; to go to your best friends.

You show up with puffy cheeks and eyes, harshly wiping away any tears that escape. Yunho opens the door and is immediately filled with concern. He pulls you into his embrace and holds you for what feels like an eternity.

Once you calm down, you’re able to tell him all that happened. Both him and Seonghwa are filled with anger at the way Mingi acted towards you. After some reflection, you realize your wrong doing as well. You should’ve texted him, letting him know you would be out. You also should’ve put in more effort to spend time with him. But that does not excuse him and his harmful words.

You look down at your black screen, having turned it off long ago. You couldn’t handle his insistent calls and frantic texts. You spend the night at their shared apartment, not having the energy to go back to Mingi at the moment.

In the morning, you wake up with a tired ache in your body. You head to the kitchen, wanting to get some food in you. You see the boys sitting at the counter, looking at a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” You ask.

They look up with a somber expression. “It’s a note from Mingi, he must’ve left it early morning.” You take it from Yunho’s hands and read it over.

Y/n, I’m so so sorry. I had absolutely no right to call you that. And I’m so sorry that I acted so childishly. I know you love me, and would never do anything to show otherwise. Please come home so we can talk about this. I promise this will never happen again. I love you, a lot. Come home baby - Mingi

Your eyes tear up at the note, and you decide to go back home. You give the boys a grateful hug, and head out. As you near your door, your heart keeps pounding loudly. You swallow nervously and knock, feeling awkward in using your key. The door opens, revealing a disheveled Mingi.

His face drops into relief and he engulfs you with his arms. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He whispers into your hair. You ball up the end of his shirt into your fists, holding on so tight.

“I’m sorry too Min. I didn’t realize I was spending such little time with you. I want to fix that, and recommit. You deserve better.” You say with a sniffle.

He smiles at you fondly, and runs a loving hand through your hair. “You deserve everything my love.” He then kisses you with a gentle hand on your waist. He leaves featherlight touches across your bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind. You decide to stay in his warm embrace, reveling in the fact that Mingi is yours and you are his.

#ateez #mingtinysworld #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #request #mingi #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez fluff

[taintedtort]

prompt ✧ can he cook?

characters ✧ wanderer, xiao, kazuha, albedo, thoma

warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!

a/n ✧ i have no real knowledge on if any of these characters can cook ngl

WANDERER

✧ barely

i feel like a lot of people head cannon that he can cook because ei cannot, but i don’t see that at all. he used to be a harbinger, he definitely had professional cooks so he wouldn’t have to make something for himself. however, i think he may have picked up a few tricks when he was kunikuzushi. and now that he’s wanderer, he’s by himself so he has to learn at least the basics. he can cook simple meals, but he’s in the process of learning. if you asked him to make something for you, he’d try his best.

"you want me to make you something? i can try… i guess."

XIAO

✧ not a chance

the chef at the inn always makes him the (very few) dishes he likes. he has no reason to learn such a skill. as an adepti, he‘s meant to simply protect and guard liyue from danger. he might possibly know the steps to make almond tofu, but it wouldn’t end up the way he likes it so he’d rather just have the pro make it. he’d be totally lost in a kitchen, its not his environment. if you can’t cook, you guys are screwed and will starve. if you make the assumption he can cook and ask him to make you something, he will. it will be disgusting and a mess, he may light something on fire as well.

"what? i never claimed to be a chef."

KAZUHA

✧ knowledgeable

hes mostly on a boat, so there isn’t much actual cooking done. he doesn’t have a lot of practice, but he knows recipes and has the basic knowledge. he’s not totally lost in the kitchen, but prefers to leave it to someone more experienced. you two often cook together, he likes chopping vegetables (does it so you won’t accidentally cut yourself), and it’s fun to try out new recipes. it may become a regular thing between you two to cook or bake something whenever he finds a new dish.

"let’s try this one today, yeah?"

ALBEDO

✧ no (unless it’s spiders)

hes way too busy conducting other experiments, he doesn’t have time to learn how to cook. that being said, he may artificially make a small pastry of some sort. he loves sweets so when he’s too busy to go into town, he just poofs up a treat for himself. if you asked him to cook you something, he’d deny, stating that he cannot cook and would just be up front with you, unlike xiao.

"i’d love to fulfill your request, but i am not suited to do that."

THOMA

✧ yes!

house husband right here. he regularly cooks you meals, he actually enjoys making food and it’s even better when you praise him over his skills. he works for the kamisato klan so he obviously is trained in many household activities, cooking being a big one. he might honestly he classified as a full on chef, but he acts modest. you wouldn’t even have to ask him to whip you something up, he was already doing so before you opened your mouth.

"hope youre hungry, i made you something."

#reader insert #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #x reader #fanfic #gender netural #gn reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #albedo x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin headcannons #thoma x reader #taintedtort

[eldritch-nightmare]

Mk, so, how about Liu, and any other characters of your choice with an S/O who has selective-mutism, but one day they just randomly decide to say something, but it’s in a completely different language. Idk where I got the idea from.

a/n: i saw liu's name and i couldn't restrain myself. i'm monolingual so i had to use various translation sites so if these are incorrect then i am so sorry. nd i opted to just have the reader randomly say 'i love you' because that seemed like an easy phrase to not butcher. except for liu. with what i wrote, i did have to give a full phrase other than 'i love you' and i put it through multiple translation sites so uhm fingers crossed that it's accurate uhm if you speak danish and it isn't then first off i am so sorry and second off can you please tell me what the actual translation is anyways this is a long note sorry fdhjfh hope you enjoy!!

with a selectively mute s/o that speaks in a different language.

includes: homicidal liu, the doll maker, nurse ann, and clockwork.

warnings: gn reader, it's honestly mostly just sappy, liu downplays a stab wound but that's really it.

HOMICIDAL LIU.

Liu doesn't really think about your selective mutism. You'll talk to him whenever you're comfortable, and if that's never then that's fine with him. All he cares about is your comfort.

Besides, if you ask him, he does enough talking for the both of you. At least... he thinks he talks a lot. It definitely feels like it. And who knows, he probably just teaches you morse code so you two can communicate like that.

And little did either of you know, today was the day you'd speak to him for the first time. And not for good reason, sadly. You see, Liu... isn't necessarily a careful person when it comes to his own safety.

So he may or may not have gotten hurt. But it's not like it's a life-threatening injury or anything like that! Besides, he's taught himself how to treat minor wounds like this. Really, it isn't that big of a deal.

You think otherwise, because, uh, he was fucking stabbed. Who the hell considers a stab wound a 'minor' injury?!

So when you saw him cleaning and stitching up a stab wound, this obviously led to some bickering between the two of you. Liu is telling you that he's okay, while you're aggressively telling him via morse code that he's been stabbed and that he needs to get professional medical attention. But Liu was fine. He's gone through way worse than this, so you really don't have to worry.

But him saying that just leads to you throwing up your hands in frustration as you say, "Dammit, kan du ikke se, at jeg er bekymret, fordi jeg elsker dig?!"

And... well... Liu doesn't really know what you just said but he feels really bad knowing that this is what made you speak to him for the first time.

He'll sigh and apologize for not taking his injuries seriously, and he promises to get professional help rather than just treating it himself. He... is legally classified as dead, so he can't go to a hospital but... I mean... he knows a guy who was studying medicine. And a very suspicious doctor.

THE DOLL MAKER.

Vine's native tongue is Russian, so more often than not he'll mutter to himself in his mother tongue rather than any other language.

He doesn't really care if you speak or not, mostly because he feels more comfortable in the silence. He's not the best at holding conversations.

He was busy making a doll with non-human parts this time around. And you were roaming around his little workshop, inspecting all his half-finished projects and sketches of future dolls he planned on making.

Vine trusts you to be around his work, so he's not worried about you accidentally making a mess or breaking anything but he does find himself feeling a little nervous.

Dollmaking is his passion, it's something he loves doing. And he loves you as well and values your opinion more than anyone else's. What if you think he's not doing a good job? What if you think he could make something better?

You've never given him the impression that you dislike dolls or find his creations and passion to be 'childish' but it's still a thought that lingers in his mind nonetheless. Thoughts like this constantly plague his mind.

But when he glances away from the doll he's working on to see you gently straightening out the dress of another one that's on display, a small smile gracing your lips as you admire his creation...

"Я тебя люблю." The words just sorta slipped out of his mouth, and it took him a moment before he went to repeat what he said in English but you spoke before he could even open his mouth.

"Я тебя тоже люблю." And oh. That's the first time he's ever heard you speak, he thinks.

NURSE ANN.

She too is selectively mute, though she doesn't speak because it physically hurts to more often than not, and also... she sees no real reason to talk, to be honest.

You two probably communicate via sign language or writing, though she'll quietly whisper to you if she has to.

Ann doesn't care if you talk or not. She gets it, even if you two have vastly different reasons for your selective mutism.

She's not going to have that big a reaction when you do talk, though she will tilt her head to the side a bit when you speak in an entirely different language.

It'll probably happen while the two of you are spending time together in silence, Ann doing her own thing while you're sitting nearby.

She was caught up in her own little task, mind empty. She was vaguely aware of your gaze on her, but she only really came back to reality when she heard you sigh and softly murmur to yourself.

"Ich liebe dich."

She blinks, taking a moment to process your words. She... doesn't understand German, but the way you softly spoke the words, and the way you were looking at her with such fondness... well, she had a vague idea of what you said.

And very quietly, she whispers back, "Love you too."

CLOCKWORK.

Natalie seems like the type of person who wants to learn a new language, and even begins starting to, but her motivation for it just evaporates two days after starting and she stops trying to learn. And it's just a cycle that rinses, washes, and repeats itself.

Anyways, she overthinks a lot and needs constant reassurance more than she would like, so at the beginning of your relationship, communication was probably a little rocky.

But you guys manage to come up with other ways to communicate rather than vocally.

She'll catch herself wondering what your voice sounds like, and she'll sometimes wonder if you'll ever feel comfortable enough around her to speak but she doesn't push you to talk.

She understands, trust me.

But she's definitely surprised when you wake her up from her nap just to look her in the eye and bluntly say, "Anh yêu em." and you don't even give her a chance to process it before you walk away.

She's just baffled and confused. What the hell did you just say to her? You just spoke. What the hell did you say? Is she dreaming? She feels awake. She's definitely awake.

Natalie has to dig around for her phone to try and search for the translation of what you said, and it takes her a few tries before she finally manages to type it out correctly. She definitely buries her face in a pillow when she reads the translation. And she ends up falling back asleep.

It's only when she wakes up again that she'll go and find you. She'll wrap her arms around your waist and rest her forehead on your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss there and tiredly murmuring, "I love you too."

#anon #homicidal liu x reader #the doll maker x reader #nurse ann x reader #clockwork x reader #creepypasta x reader #homicidal liu x you #the doll maker x you #nurse ann x you #clockwork x you #creepypasta x you