#like he'll work his way out of this of course he will i just hate seeing him miserable AFDLKJSADFJKL

[mydear-corinthian]

Birthday || Cillian Murphy x reader

Synopsis: Cillian arriving on his birthday back to your shared home after an exhausting Oppenheimer work. Pairing: Cillian Murphy x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, squirting, praising kink, rough sex, p in v, creampie Notes: ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. No hate to Cillian's wife! (we love her) Happy (advance) Birthday my man, Cillian Murphy <3 Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLISTClick here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY masterlist

Cillian is finally free to rest. For the past few months, he has been traveling all around the world with Oppenheimer's premiers, interviews, new promotions with different brands, and of course, the awarding ceremonies.

Due to the busy schedule your husband had, you weren't able to talk to him physically, kiss him, touch him, go out with him, or complete your day with him for months. During the busy period, both of you will hop on Skype or Zoom every week to talk about what's happening.

Now that the promotions and other interviews are finished, Cillian can finally come back home to his hometown in Cork, Ireland with you and his family. He'll arrive no later than May 23, just a day before his 48th birthday.

Currently, you're in your shared home, alone. Laying down on the massive queen-sized bed. With your phone in your hand, you texted him.

"Hello, love. Where are you already?" you typed.

After a few minutes, your phone buzzed, and a text notification popped up, showing Cillian's name.

"I'm in Ireland already. I'll let you know if I'm in Cork. I love you." Cillian replied.

"Alright. Have a safe trip, Cill. I love and miss you." you texted the last time, smiling like an idiot before turning off your phone, and placing it on top of the nightstand beside you. Getting comfortable, you pulled up the comforter up to your chest before turning off the lamp and sleep.

<>

You woke up to the sound of the front door being opened.

Yawning, you stood up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed your white robe that was hanging on the back of your shared room.

As you walked down the stairs, you saw Cillian. His hair was longer than the last Skype call you had and you find it hot. His luggage and his carry-on bag were dropped on his side when he saw you.

You sprinted over to embrace him tightly and warmly, taking in his scent before planting a quick kiss on his lips. You felt planted in the moment, protected and cherished in his familiar hug. Everything else seemed to fade away as your heart was filled with the delight of being reunited. You drew back just enough so that you could meet his eyes and saw the same joy in.

"I've missed you, Cill," you said, smiling.

"I missed you so much, (y/n),"

Your lips and his made contact again. The both of you exchange a sweet and short passionate kiss.

You broke the kiss, letting out an exhale, your face still smiling.

"You must be tired, darling. Just leave the bags there, the kids will handle that tomorrow," you said, guiding the way to your shared bedroom upstairs.

You were shocked to feel Cillian's hands grab your face and give you a hard kiss as soon as you two got to the door. Your eyes widened at the quick action, but you were also craving for this. You haven't felt or seen each other in months. You gave him an aggressive kiss back, and as the kiss increased, you reached out to hold his neck and tasted one other's melting tongues once again.

"Cill - Aren't you tired? We can do this tomorrow," you interrupted.

"Oh fuck no. I want you now, love. I've missed you so much," Cillian replied.

"The kids aren't home, by the way. They're both in a sleepover with their friends."

"That's good. No one can hear you scream then,"

Cillian lowered you onto the mattress carefully and kept his kiss intact. You took off your sleepwear shirt and robe, exposing your hard nipples and breasts, as he carefully undid his shirt. Cillian bit and sucked you as he marked you as his, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck. You gripped a fistful of his hair and groaned with ecstasy.

"Fuck - you're so pretty .. and hot .." he muttered in between kisses, adorning your whole face and neck.

Cillian slowly kissed you lower and lower until he reached your covered cunt. Your black panties soaking from the recent touch. He chuckled, putting his face in front of your wet and needy cunt.

"So fucking wet for me, huh?" he teased, biting his lower lip at the sight.

"Oh yes, Cillian .. please,"

"Please what?"

"Fuck me, Cillian. Fuck me, please .." you begged, clenching your cunt feeling wetter and wetter every time he speaks.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle before removing your black lace panties. Tossing it on the floor. You can feel his breath in your cunt.

Finally, he devoured you. His tongue circled around your clit and sucked it harshly making you whimper loudly. The sound of his tongue doing magic to your cunt echoed throughout the room, eating you like a thirsty man.

"I missed you. I missed your touch. I missed your taste .. God, fuck, you taste so good," he praised, continuing to eat you out.

Your back arched at the pleasure, taking a fist full of his hair, pinning him down your cunt deeper, your thighs locking his face.

No words can come out of your throat to feel the kind of pleasure. You let out a series of moans and gasps, not even worrying if the neighbors can hear you.

Feeling a knot in your stomach performing, your legs trembled, digging his face deeper and deeper as you let out a very loud moan, your cunt clenching.

"Mhm cum for me, baby .. yeah that's right .. fuck," Cillian muttered as his tongue flicked your clit even faster, helping you to reach your peak.

"Fuck!" you let out a loud moan as you started to squirt. Your juices squirting all over his mouth and on the bedsheets. A white substance leaking out of your cunt.

"Shit, that was hot," he commented.

"No, Cill .. please, I need more .. I need you,"

"You've missed me that much, huh? Well, since you asked properly,"

Cillian removed his pants alongside his black boxers, tossing them on the floor. His cock sprung open, pre-cum leaking.

His hand strokes it for a while before entering you slowly, feeling how your tight cunt takes him. Cillian let out a low groan as he entered you fully. His pace started out slow, allowing you to adjust to his huge size. Your breasts bounce at each thrust as you felt his cock inside you. Slowly, he started penetrating faster and deeper, allowing him to pleasure all of your sensitive spots. You moaned out loud as you felt your g-spot touch his cock, your hands crumpling the bedsheet. His pelvis hit your hips as he thrusted harshly making a series of loud skin-clapping sounds.

"God, you feel so good, (y/n)," he groaned, his eyes fully shutting, feeling every spot of your cunt inside you.

"Yes yes yes yes! Oh, Cillian .."

You felt a huge difference with his cock and the toy that you have in your closet. When he was away, you would fuck yourself with a toy, imagining lustful scenarios of him fucking you harshly. His cock felt better.

"C'mon, baby .. let the neighbors know how much I fucking please you,"

You let out a much louder moan as you felt your orgasm coming again. Cillian's fingers toying with your hardened nipples as he harshly pounded you.

"I'm gonna - I'm.. fuck! I'm cumming .. I'm cumming, oh!" you shouted, feeling like bursting at any second.

"Me too, baby .. Oh yes,"

After a few harsh pounds, you finally came and so did Cillian. Letting his seed pour inside your walls, filling you up. Your legs trembled as you clenched your cunt on his cock.

Cillian finally pulled out, a huge load of your cum and his leaking out of your penetrated hole, staining the bedsheets again.

"Look at you dripping at my cum. You're such a good girl," he praised before kissing you but this time, more softer and passionate.

"I love you, Cill."

"I love you more, (y/n),"

You looked at the wall clock, checking on time. When your eyes saw the time, you smiled. It's 12 midnight.

"Happy Birthday, love." you greeted.

"Oh, it's my birthday now? I guess I deserve another round of gift, hm?"

Chuckling at his response, you playfully hit him on the shoulder before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

The two of you ended up sleeping at 4 in the morning that day. 

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader

[maltesejjong]

What’s up hoes, I’m back at it again lmao. Here’s a little lixie Drabble I wrote last year🫶🏽

Tbh this one kinda hurt. Not in a “why did I write this way” but in a “how dare I portray sunshine this way” and honestly I’m not proud of it. But I was going through a shit period of time and was really hurt and needed to make that hurt known. People always assume I’m some happy go lucky person who never gets mad or wronged and I needed my pain portrayed through some sunshine’s. Please don’t hate me for this

On the Other Side

Warnings: MINORS DNI. Pwop, cream pie, unprotected sex (oh god don’t do that y’all), fingering, piv, cheating (also don’t do THAT guys stay faithful please please please), i think I got everything? Lmk if I missed smt

Summary: Chan is absolutely smitten with his princess. Little does he know that his business trips leave opportunities for his heart to be crushed… by his best friend.

tags: @linoalwaysknows ty for being so enthusiastic about my post “What’s Rwally Going On” and, of course, credit where credit is due, thank you so so much to @lixiesfreckless who started off posting one shots on instagram (insta is @/lixiesfreckles_) and was a massive inspiration both for me as a writer and for this specific piece, which was inspired by “Deep”, which is on her insta hall go check it out!!!

Wc: 1792

Requests are open as always ^^

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

"Relax, baby. Just let go."

You clench your fists, desperately fighting the sounds struggling to escape. "Fe- Felix," you stutter out. "I- I'm...ah, Lixie!"

"Shhh. Calm down, angel. It's alright."

But it's not. And you both know it.

This can't be happening. Not again. It's becoming more and more frequent. You tried. You really did.

But..

"Felix," you try again. "I can't-"

"Just try, baby. Please? Just a minute longer."

He never asks for much, always making sure you're taken care of in every possible way first. And it isn't just the sex.

If you're up late, somehow he'll know, like intuition, and he'll be calling and texting relentlessly, telling you to go to sleep. When you're feeling sick, he arrives on your doorstep with drunken noodles and fried tofu, just happening by.

When you're lonely, well, he's only one call away.

And, of course, you're usually all alone these days...

"Fuck!" You exclaim, jarred out of your thoughts as he abruptly twists his fingers, hitting your sweet spot in a way that's almost cruel.

But it isn't. It never is.

You force your mind to wander, to recall song lyrics and recipes, anything to distract yourself from the feeling of Felix's fingers sliding out of you, then back in. Again and again.

"We shouldn't... we shouldn't be doing this," Felix pants, looking at you through ashy blond hair.

"But we are," you reply through gritted teeth as his digits stretch you out more than usual.

How did we get here? You think to yourself, your legs shaking so hard, you're positive that his fingers alone will leave you unable to walk. His tiny hands with his tiny fingers that work magic on you.

You bite your lip, trying to hold on to whatever shred of dignity you can salvage, knowing your neighbors are still home. Every last inch of you begs to release, to be as loud as you can, to become as undone and fucked up as you possibly can.

But no.

You can't let that happen.

Besides, you know from experience how long Felix can last. You tell yourself that there's no rush.

Yet the thrill of being caught makes everything so much more intense. So much more rushed. So much more fun.

Almost so much more worth it.

"Y/n," he hisses desperately, "shhh. You need to..."

You can't help it. Whatever noise you're apparently making, you have no control over. When you re together, this boy does things to you that you can't even begin to comprehend.

He doesn't deserve this, you tell yourself. And, I guess, neither do I. It shouldn't be like this.

You bite back a whimper as he pushes his fingers deeper. "Felix," you pant, "hurry up, I can't..."

Nevermind the familiar fear lurking over your shoulder.

You know that he doesn't want to rush any more than you do, a fact that he confirms by slowly pulling his fingers out and languidly cleaning them off, the look in his eyes as his gaze locks into yours driving you insane.

He raises his eyebrows, questioning. You press your lips together as tight as you can to keep from begging and keep your response to a firm nod.

He takes his time, kissing his way down your neck, all the way to the inside of your thigh, then back up again. Your body reacts on its own, your back arching as his lips travel up your stomach.

You're so consumed by the feeling that you don't even notice him line up and slide into you. Something that you've found goes smoother if you're distracted.

The second you realize that he's in, your mind races about, trying to grab onto something to keep your mind busy. Kittens. Math. Random Korean and Spanish vocabulary. Anything to keep from yelling as loud as you can as his hips continuously bump gently into yours.

It's a stolen moment. Yet another to add to the ever-growing list. Another thing that should, in theory, weigh on your conscience.

But it doesn't. How can it, when you're digging your fingers into Felix's platinum locks, feeling him groan against your lips. How can you think of the consequences when he's making that sound, bordering on a whimper, your name escaping his clenched teeth?

Exactly. You can't.

Your fingers leave his hair, trailing down his biceps, making him shiver. Your nails press into his skin as hard as you can, desperate for some purchase.

"Y/n. You need to relax, baby." Felix knows that you're going to that place in your mind where you start overthinking, panicking, and, as you've been prone to in the past, hyperventilate. "Hey." Не stops and cups your chin in his hand. "Breathe, okay? I won't-"

"No!" You blurt. "I'm- I'm fine, I just..."

"Y/n."

"Felix," you say firmly. "If you don't keep going, I swear to God, I will make you. I'll be fine, okay?"

He swallows and nods.

"Just.... Slower for now, yeah?"

He obliges, and you take comfort in the fact that, eventually, you aren't the only one making so much noise.

You shouldn't be.... The twisted mess of it all, the backwards guilt that claws your stomach, how messy this situation is.... It's all chased away by Felix whimpering your name, the way his voice pitches, contrasting starkly with his deep Australian tone. Ironic, but running circles in your mind around the whole thing is what helps you calm down and stay quiet. Well, mostly quiet, anyways....

"Oh, God," you moan quietly. Your voice pushes him further, and he increases his pace, his hips hitting yours harder. "Lixie.... Oh, fuck."

"You're doing great, angel. Just a little...." His voice is strained, and you chance a glance at his face.

Hair falling in his eyes, which are dark and seem slightly unfocused, but you know better. He's sweaty, panting slightly, his lips dark pink, flushed from feverishly pressing them to your skin.

Why does this time feel so much longer than every other time? There's a sense of foreboding in the air, and you don't like it.

You feel him shudder a little and force yourself to focus.

"Y/n, you need to relax, kitten." The pet name, the way his gravelly Australian accent drags over the word, makes you whine and clench painfully, causing him to gasp. "Y/n," he gets out, clearly fighting to hold on, "I- I won't last unless you relax."

"I'm... trying..."

It's no use, though. You're too uptight, and everything that usually calms you just turns you on even more until Felix can't take your reactions anymore. In no time at all, you've both ridden out three separate highs, and made way more of a mess than the short span of time warranted.

"Felix." You both know you should be wrapping up, but you can tell that he still isn't done quite yet.

"I... I need a little bit more time- uh! Oh god. Y/n - I can't..."

"What can I do?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, lips pressed together tightly.

Stimulation, you think, that's what will help. Just thinking about what's going on down there makes your stomach squirm pleasurably, sending you clenching tighter and tighter

Felix groans.

"That's it, Lix," you say in a sultry tone, knowing that the only physical thing you can do for him is happening automatically. Vocalization always gets him. "Come on baby," you say breathlessly, "give it all to me."

"I'm doing-"

"Shhh." You cut him off with a kiss. "Just let it all go," you coax, dragging a nail down his chest. "Don't hold back."

A shudder runs through his body, and you watch with satisfaction as he moans loudly, his head tipping back.

Almost there.

You lean forward and press your lips to his throat, feeling it vibrate as another strangled moan escapes him. "Come on, Lix. And here I was, thinking I'm the naughty one." What is wrong with me? You think. Getting turned on by calling myself naughty? Your walls somehow manage to clench even tighter in response.

"You are," he gasps. "Y/n- I'm gonna- nngh!"

He practically bends backwards, his body shaking hard before he falls heavily forward, clinging to you like you're his lifeline, and you know that he's done.

"Better?" You ask quietly.

"Perfect," he whispers, pulling you into his chest.

You let the warmth of his body comfort you, despite the pain gently pulsing in your body. His breath in your skin distracts you from the worry spiraling throughout your mind.

You drift off at some point, listening to his rhythmic breathing, savoring how impossibly right it all feels.

You wake up an hour later to your phone ringing.

You answer without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hey, pretty girl."

You freeze.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Maybe," you say, trying to suppress your rising panic. You feel thankful that the voice on the other end of the phone is on the other side of the world.

"Oh. Sorry about that." His accent makes the "o" in sorry sound like it does in sore.

"Oh. Um... you're fine," you lie.

"Everything alrigh', baby?"

You fumble with the blankets, trying to escape from the overheated confines and wiggle out of Felix's embrace, careful not to wake him.

"Yeah. I'm just not feeling the greatest." True enough. You feel sick with anxiety and guilt. But not for the right reasons.

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel." You practically cringe, the word feeling foreign unless it's coming from Felix's mouth. "I'll let you get back to sleep then, love."

"Oh. Okay, then."

If he thinks there's something off in your voice, he doesn't say anything. In fact, he probably just attributes it to you apparently being tired. You check the caller ID, praying that this is some sort of fever dream. Of course not. Your screen says

💙🐺Channie🐺💙

You close your eyes as he says "I love you, y/n."

A sour taste pervades your mouth and crushes you with guilt, the betrayal weighing on you, but not the betrayal to him, as your finger hovers over the red "end call" button. You hesitate slightly before telling him "Love you, too."

Staring at your back screen, you think, But I don't.

Not really.

#stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan smut #felix smut #felix x reader #bang chan x reader

[larsnicklas]

anyway on the topic of pete, he's going to be just fine i have genuinely all the faith in the world in him. to be perfectly honest i think he has to start trying Less. you can literally see him overthinking and double clutching shots he normally would simply bury and it's all just a miserable feedback loop. at the end of the day he's still elias p.ettersson and i think he needs to just trust himself even HALF as much as i trust him lol and just... play.

#like he'll work his way out of this of course he will i just hate seeing him miserable AFDLKJSADFJKL #that's my little guy... you know..... #also <3 i think his wrist needs rest lol. or possibly surgical intervention. but that's a different matter. #meg.txtpost

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.6k words summary: boyfriend!toji headcanons, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, he’s a simp but he’ll never admit it !! rheya's note: grumpy man being soft for the person he really loves? i’m here for it. mamaguro is literal proof that he can and will love !!

bf!toji who is silent with his care for you. he's not one to be open or dramatic about his feelings, but you bet he'll show them in actions. small, mundane things that could only be picked out under critical eyes—like quietly placing an extra mug of coffee next to you as you work, or being the one to walk closest to the street, fingers firmly clasped around your palm. if you point it out he'll just grunt, shaking his head with a quiet "keep walking" all while pretending to ignore your silly little grin.

bf!toji who isn't really the type to be big on words of affirmation, but huge on physical touch. you tell him you did well on a project at school or work and he just hums, giving you a little nod. he doesn't say anything else—doesn't really have to because the soft lingering pat on your head is enough to tell you that he's proud.

bf!toji who is an aggressive yet affectionate lover. if you're doing something and he's not receiving your attention he will come up behind you and put you in a headlock. he thinks it's an appropriate response considering how much he craves your attention and company—why on earth are you focused on something that isn't him anyway? so be prepared to have his heavy bicep playfully curling around your throat or slinging you over his shoulders at random times—it's his way of telling you he misses you. and if anything, he'll do it to hear you whine and attempt to shove him off.

bf!toji who will absolutely take your phone and change your lockscreen to pictures of him. every so often, you'll turn your phone on and see an entirely different picture—sometimes a picture of him at the gym, other times a picture of him blocking out his face—but it's always him.

bf!toji whose own lockscreen is always something that's related to you. he's sneaky with it, always stealing pictures of you when you're not looking. he's got a separate album with them—probably hidden behind a password because it's something only he should be allowed to see. but whether it's a snapshot of his hand intertwined with yours or a blurry image of you fast asleep in his bed, it's always you. because of course you’re the first thing he should be able to see when he turns his phone on.

bf!toji who, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly the type to go feral if someone's made you upset. and he's freakishly observant, noticing even a slight pinch of your nose or wobble in your lips—he's caught them all. whether you're just down or outright sobbing, he's there, standing in front of you with pure anger weighing heavy on his brows. and yet for all his rage he's nothing but gentle as he firmly takes your face in his calloused hands, muttering a strained "what the fuck happened?" as he forces you to make eye contact with him. his own eyes will dart over your features, searching for discomfort or any other emotion as you explain, barely holding back his own emotions because there's no reason on the fucking planet that you should be upset at all.

bf!toji who rarely says the words "i love you" not because he doesn't but because the words themselves don't hold all that much meaning to him. no he'd rather spend his time proving it to you than just saying it for the sake of saying it. but, sometimes if you pretend to be asleep long enough, you'll catch him quietly whisper the words into your hair, almost like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. don't even bother trying to call him out for it—he'll deny deny deny.

bf!toji whose eyes flutter when he lets you trace over his scars. not just the one cutting over his lips but the ones that litter his back and torso—battle remnants that he doesn't remember much of. he's always hated the look of them, indifferent to old memories of a much more chaotic time in his life. but when your gentle fingers graze over the raised skin he'll sigh, oddly quiet but yet so comfortable.

bf!toji who will drop everything if you need him. don't ever hesitate to ask him for things because you're scared of being a burden—he will yell at you (affectionately). you drank too much with your friends and can't get a ride? call him and he'll pick you up even if it's 4 am. you're feeling nervous about walking home from the convenience store even though it's only ten minutes away from home? stay put and he'll come get you so that you can walk back together. shut up about all that "it's an inconvenience for you" bullshit—he'll do it and that's that.

bf!toji who asks if you've eaten today, and when you answer with a sheepish smile he'll click his tongue, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and giving you a pointed glare. then he'll say "get your ass to the kitchen. c'mon, up." while hoisting you to your feet—most of the time he'll just pick you up and plop you on the counter himself.

bf!toji who wordlessly makes you something to eat, whether it's a quick snack put together with leftovers or an actual full meal. then he'll stand in front of you with the plate and demand you eat. even a slight word of protest and he's scowling, already holding up a spoonful while grumbling a low "don't wanna hear it. open up, kid."

bf!toji who hates when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home. his job doesn't allow for the comfort of a strict schedule, and he's told you this many times. but you're nothing if not stubborn, and he can only sigh heavily as he sees you dozing against the armrest when he pushes the door open late at night. he'll click his tongue quietly, hooking both arms under your back and knees to cradle you against his chest before walking to the bedroom. though some part of him is pleased, knowing that you seem to care about him enough to make sure he's coming home every night.

bf!toji who glares at anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way. some guy eyeing you while you're walking on the street? toji looks like he's ready to rip his head off. some "friend" of yours asking too many questions about why you're dating a man like him? well…if looks could kill.

bf!toji who pulls you into his lap when he kisses you, because he likes the way you fit into his space so perfectly. he won't ever admit how it makes him swoon when you giggle against his lips, instead choosing to tighten his grip on your hips and pull you closer to his chest.

bf!toji who enjoys watching you sit on the kitchen counter and swing your legs back and forth—finding it so unbelievably endearing that he ends up just standing in between your legs and burying his face into your neck. his lips will map chaste kisses across your skin, and he'll hide a wry smile as your quiet giggles wash over him.

bf!toji who will notice when you eye something at a store, whether it's a pretty piece of jewelry or a new sweater or whatever—he keeps note. and then weeks later, once you've forgotten all about it, he'll come home and drop a bag into your lap before shoving his hands into his pockets. when you open it and start gushing about how much you wanted it and how pleased you are, he'll huff and turn away, muttering a low "whatever, kid. 's not a big deal."

bf!toji who sees you upset about something, and loops his bicep around your neck and tucks you under his chin. to an outsider it doesn't look like the most comforting form of a hug, but it's toji, and he's secure and he's safe and he's all the comfort you need—a tight squeeze that grounds you in a way that you can't quite describe.

bf!toji who will never admit how interested he is in your gossip. his ideal way to destress after he comes home is to sit on the couch with you in his lap, your arms looped around his waist as you press yourself against his torso and tuck your head under his chin. and even though his eyes are trained on the tv, he has no clue what's going on—he's more focused on the drama you're spilling or whoever you're ranting about. and he makes it known too, occasionally asking "then what happened, baby?" and adding in a few sounds of disbelief. by the end of your rant, he'll be saying something along the lines of "what a fucking bitch," or "honestly he deserved that," and then asks for updates on the situation over the next few days.

bf!toji who silently watches you trace your fingers over the lines on his palms. you're blabbering about something, tucked against his chest as his other arm remains wrapped around you securely, but he's just focused on your hands. it scares him a little bit—the difference between you and him. his palms are calloused, rough with battle and death, while yours are soft, clean of the horrors he's determined to keep away from you. and a small part of him tells him he shouldn't taint you with all his faults, that you deserve someone more capable of loving than he is. but then he feels you brush your lips over his scarred fingers and he sucks in a breath, tightening his grip imperceptibly. even as he hides a half smile against your brow, he knows he isn't going anywhere.

#toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji zenin x reader #zenin toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji angst #toji zenin x you #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #toji headcanons #toji zenin #toji drabbles #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #toji hcs

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

[pomefioredove]

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

#twst x reader #shall I tag everyone even though this is pretty short... idk might as well #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #idk if I should tag silver and sebek they're barely in it 😔 #that's enough tags anyway

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader #33 Ghost helps fix up your house or makes repairs - for @glitterypirateduck's Ghost writing challenge

His phone rings again on the following Tuesday morning.

It's been a day and a half, since he's seen you and Orion last. Since he made you promise to call, no matter what, if you needed something. Or if you needed a break, or some company.

Anything. Anything, and he'd be there.

You had tried to push him off a bit, tried to assert your independence, which he appreciates, he values. He likes to know you can take care of yourself and the baby when he's not here. But when he is-

"We're really fine, you know. You don't have to be... available for us, whenever. I mean, like if you have other things. Or people, you don't have to be here all the time. I've been doin' it on my own, and I'm fine. We're fine. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

His fork clatters to the plate, and your eyes go round as he rises from the chair and steps toward you, firm hand cupping your arm. "I'm here because I wan' to be."

"O-okay, I just don't want you to be here because you think you have to... because you're all the sudden saddled with a kid."

"I'm not here because I feel like 've been saddled with a kid. I'm here because I want to be, because I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. I want you both." Your mouth drops wide before snapping shut abruptly, warmth rising in your cheeks. You're so cute like this, flustered and nervous, and it reminds him of the night he met you, a sweet little kitten, all alone at the bar. "And you've done more than just a fine job, sweet girl, takin' care of yourself and our baby for me, but when 'm here, it's my job."

So, his phone rings, and it doesn't matter that he's in the middle of spotting Soap at the squat rack.

He drops everything.

"Hi." You're a little out of breath when you open the door, eyes wide and wild, chewing on your lip. Orion is asleep in your arms, blissfully unaware, head lolling on your shoulder, clad only in a diaper.

His head buzzes, still trying to reconcile the truth of this entire thing, the fact that this is his, you and his baby. His.

"What's wrong?" He's massive in your door frame, and ushers you back inside, clicking the lock into place behind him. "What's goin' on?"

"It's... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I just... I don't know how to fix it and you said I could... call, right? So-"

"Hey." His thumb gently presses into the inside of your elbow, and then he squeezes slightly. "It's okay. I want you to call me. What is it?"

"It's the laundry." You blurt, and then freeze, eyes flicking down to see if Ry has woken up. "I broke the washer, and today is the day I do the baby's clothes, but I can't get it to work and... it hates me." He chuckles.

"It doesn't hate you, sweetheart. Let's take a look." This, he can do. Things with his hands, mechanical things, physical puzzles, easy. It's not the first time he'll have fixed an appliance, and it won't be the last.

He takes the machine apart as quickly as possible, pieces laid out exactly where he needs them, washers and screws and everything all accounted for. It's the belt, he discovers rapidly, an easily fixed problem with a new part.

"I'll have to run down the street quick," he tells you, drawing up to his full height and motioning towards the entryway, "but it's a quick fix." You nod, stepping out of the way, small smile on your lips. He promises he'll be right back, that he'll have it done in no time, and you pad along to the door, standing back as he pulls it wide.

"Simon..." you whisper, and he turns, "thank you."

"Of course."

True to his word, he's back before the hour. The low murmur of the TV echoes from the living room, and he gravitates there before returning to his task, driven to lay eyes on both of you, to make sure you're here, you're okay-

and the sight of it stops him in his tracks.

You're asleep on the couch, shirt pulled up and bra unhooked from it's strap. Orion is cradled against your chest, his tiny fingers curled in the flesh of your breast, mouth lax around your nipple. There's a dribble of milk sliding down his cheek, and the sight of it all makes Simon dizzy. He knew you nursed him, but seeing it for the first time fills him with something he's not sure how to reconcile, adding onto the heap of adoration and possession pounding in his heart. It's a different kind of puzzle, the same kind of barbaric instinct and need roaring in his blood, the one that tells him to tuck you away and never let you go.

He stares for a second longer, scratching this moment into his memory as much as he can before he realizes how tired you are. You do a good job of hiding it, smiling and buzzing about, but in the early afternoon light, he can see the exhaustion so clearly, and kicks himself for not noticing sooner.

When Ry starts to fuss, your brow furrows in your sleep, and Simon can't stop himself. "Shh, shhh." He soothes, pulling him free as gently as he can. You twitch, hands searching, and then your head snaps up in a panic, breaths stuttered. "It's okay. I got him, you just closed your eyes, is all. It's alright."

"Sorry." You croak, sitting up and fumbling with your top. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay, mama." He's on his knees in front of the couch, in front of you, and you stare down at him, mystified. "What does he usually do after he eats?"

"Uh... burp? And then he goes down to sleep." You yawn. "A change, if he needs it."

"Alright, 've got it, you go rest. After I put him down, I'll finish the washer."

"Oh, no... I can-"

"I've got him. Nothin' I can't handle." He shifts Orion, supporting his head as he props him up over his shoulder, rubbing his back slowly. He wants to do this, wants you to let him do this, wants you to trust him.

He needs it.

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"If I need anythin', I'll wake you." There's a burp cloth on the coffee table, and he places it under Ry's chin. "Huh, lad? If we need mama, we'll get her, right?" You soften, posture relaxing a bit, and then you nod.

"Alright, then."

#peaches writes #through me anthology #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghostchallenge #once upon a time someone asked me to write lactation kink and I couldn't do it because I wasn't feeling it for that particular story BUT #it will certainly be in this

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny de-age #Dimension travel #Crack #Basically He overshaowed people and everyone lost their minds about it #Barry will fight Bruce for Danny #Danny will make it his life goal to be Bruce's life hell

[steddiewithachance]

"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

[runa-falls]

I saw that you think Miguel is a thigh man 😩 can I request him x reader who's thighs clap when they run or so some type of activities. I got that problem sadly 😵‍💫😮‍💨

yes, of course!! i love talking ab our thigh fucker ;^)

cw: body insecurities, thigh chafing (yeouch), fluffy reassurances, small bit of smut (OK IM SORRY 😳 i didn't see that coming [yes i did.]), just oral and uh, a bit of marking, not proof read!!

---

you've never enjoyed prolonged physical activity: running, swimming, biking, etc, because you hated the way your thighs would slide against each other; uncomfortably chafing your skin and making noticeable sounds.

so when miguel proposed a hike for your weekly date, you were hesitant to agree. unfortunately, he's very good at persuading you...

that's how you found yourself on a narrow trial shrouded with trees, taking slow, cautious steps as you attempt to keep your thighs from touching as much as usual.

of course, it only helped so much. your inner thighs were still chafing and getting sore, but you try to conceal your pain as much as possible, too embarrassed to mention anything to miguel.

though your boyfriend is the most loving and accepting man you've ever met, you still haven't told him of your insecurity. you're afraid that once you mention something to him, he'll notice your thighs even more.

miguel is pacing himself, making sure to slow down with you so he doesn't leave you behind (he does this hike all the time). he adjusts his baseball cap, making sure his wild curls are smooshed down as he watches you walk toward him.

you look beautiful today. you always look beautiful. but there's something about see you in this condition that make him twitch in his shorts.

he loves the way your chest heaves as you take deep breaths, your tits pressing desperately against the thin fabric. how droplets of sweat roll over the contours of your cleavage, outlining what he wants to see the most. and how your leggings look like they were painted on, completely revealing the overwhelming softness of your thighs and how they press so sweetly together.

he can barely take his eyes off of you.

but he can't help but notice how odd you're acting too.

he's perplexed as to why you're taking such big steps and moving like you'd rather be anywhere but there, with him. why your face is tense, yet completely blank at the same time.

there's clearly something wrong, but you've been silent this whole hike.

"baby, you doing alright?" you seem to be lost in your thoughts as you stare down at your dirt-scuffed sneakers, you don't even notice he's stopped in front of you. he calls out to you again, "babe?"

"hm?" you look up, pausing your unnatural movements to give your legs a rest, "oh, yeah...i'm fine" you attempt a smile, but even you can tell it looks fake and performative. his eyes bloom with concern as he notices how your legs are shaking under you.

"what's going on, sweetheart? are you hurt?"

"no...it's just," you look away, still apprehensive to mention anything.

he pushes, hand reaching for yours, "just what?"

"i-my thighs are chafing..." you say softly, looking back at him. he's frowning. "b-but i can keep going!" you start walking again, willing yourself to continue even though it hurts.

"baby, wait," he stops you, "don't hurt yourself. i didn't realize you were having trouble this whole time."

you shrug, "it's ok, i'm used to it."

"sweetheart, come here." he has his back turned towards you, coaxing you over to him. "get on."

"get on?"

"i'll carry you back to the car."

"no! you don't have to--"

"i want to." he interrupts, "then when we get home, we'll take a nice bath and get you all patched up."

"what about the rest of the trail?"

"we can just get our work out in at home..."

---

you sigh as warm water washes over the inflamed skin of your inner thighs. it stings sharply, but the pain feels oddly satisfying, especially as miguel thoroughly lathers shampoo in your hair.

"feel better?"

you hum, eyes closing as his fingers attentively massage your scalp.

"why didn't you tell me that you were hurting earlier?"

"i dunno, it just wasn't that big of a deal, mig."

"it was. you were barely able to sit without your hands between your thighs."

you snort, "i thought you liked it when i do that."

you yelp when you feel him tug sharply at your hair. "you know what i meant." he growled, clearly unhappy you're trying to avoid the subject.

"it's embarrassing."

"what's embarrassing?" his hands start to cup water onto your head, washing the suds from your hair until you're squeaky clean.

"my thighs." his movements stop suddenly.

"what about them?"

"they're...too big."

"too big?" he genuinely sounds baffled, almost scoffing in disbelief.

"yeah, they're always touching and they make this...clapping sound when i do certain physical movements..."

"so?"

"so?" you turn your head to look at him, questioning eyes meeting his scarlet stare. his red irises are mere slivers with how blown out his pupils are, heavy with lust.

"yeah, so what?"

"so...i don't like them." you voice is small as you look at him shyly, cheeks blooming with heat under the stringiness of your wet hair.

"well i love them."

---

miguel presses gentle and sweet kisses over your tender skin, relieving all the pain from your chafed inner thighs with just a touch of his lips. your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he makes his way up your body.

the prominent shape of his fangs press against his top lip as his sharp maroon stare fixes right at the apex of your thighs. you can tell he's holding himself back by the way his fingers grip bruises into the tops of your legs.

"baby, you have no idea," he takes a deep breath, eyes closed as his nose nuzzles at your inner thigh, "how fucking perfect you are."

"mig, please!"

he smiles cloyingly, letting you watch his fangs retract before he dips his head closer to your center. he wouldn't want to hurt you...

he locks eyes with you when he experimentally slips his tongue through your soaking lips, only giving you enough attention to keep you buzzing. he's delicately laving against you, feeling you tense and pant under him as he slowly builds up your pleasure.

a haze of lust instantly clouds over his darkened eyes and you watch as he gets lost in the taste of you. he pushes in deeper, tongue fucking you, slurping and sucking, while spilling muffled groans over your pulsing cunt as your thighs begin to tighten around him.

he flicks over your aching clit, drinking in your whimpers, moans, and cries as he teases you, pulling back every so often until you bury your hand into his curls and force him down onto you.

you're nearly suffocating him with your thighs when he start suckling you into his mouth, muscles trembling against him as you grow closer to the edge, and he loves it.

his silky lips and slick tongue push you straight off the edge. you hold on to him as your body writhes with white hot pleasure, hand in his hair and thighs around his head. you can barely hear the muffled groans he makes from how lost in ecstasy you are.

but he groans, and grunts, and then freezes.

"did i just..." he unwraps your legs from around him and sits up, tugging his briefs down in disbelief. your bleary eyes open, eyes glazed and unfocused from the intensity of your orgasm. "shit."

you look down and are graced with a beautiful mess that drips from his cock and the black fabric of his boxers.

you can't help the amused smile that spreads over your lips, "you need some help cleaning that up?"

#anon #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #fluff #miguel o’hara smut

[yoichiris]

better than letting go | nagi seishiro x reader

✩ accidental sugar daddy nagi ✩ pro-player!nagi, roommates au, angst to fluff, heavy pining, miscommunication

"just go live with nagi," reo says offhandedly, "if you clean up after him, he'll let you stay there forever."

you open your mouth to refute the suggestion, because reo knows how you feel about nagi, knows you couldn't possibly stay in an enclosed space with him hours on day on end without jumping him... but before you do, nagi himself interrupts.

"i'm okay with that," he replies in his usual laid-back voice.

you glare at him because you think he sounds more excited about the cleaning part.

"you're going to be homeless," reo shrugs, "why not?"

you return your glare at reo, "why can't you just house me in one of your billion-dollar properties."

"then i'd have to ask my old man for permission," he waves you off like the asshole he is, "no thanks."

"what's wrong with living with me?" nagi wonders, and you hate him for acting like he wants to live with you so badly.

"look, just clean nagi's dirty underwear for the next year while you finish your degree and you won't have to worry about a thing," reo explains, as if there aren't other factors like your five-year infatuation with nagi, and maybe the fact that nagi lives like he doesn't know what a vacuum does.

you sigh, thinking about the end of your lease and the astronomical increase in rent incoming, and how much you don't want to work your stupid part-time job, and give in.

of course it's not that bad. all you had to do was keep your feelings to yourself.

"nagi," you hiss, "nagi, wake up, you're going to be late!"

he only stirs, covers tucked under his chin, as if he's hiding from you. you inch the door wider, stepping into his room hesitantly. he doesn't even make a move.

"nagi," you whine, crouching at the side of his bed.

he makes a sound of acknowledgment but keeps his eyes closed, so you sit cross-legged on the floor, watching his sleeping form. he's so cute like this, you think, yearning.

it's been a week since you moved in with nagi. in a lot of ways, he's exactly what you thought he would be like in private: he's rarely home, and when he is, he's quiet.

you thought he would spend more time in his room, under the covers, but you realize quickly he's furnished his couch with the coziest throw and likes to curl under there when he is home.

it makes your heart warm when you come home to see nagi, his toes sticking out from underneath the blanket, waiting for you to eat dinner.

"...what time is it?" you hear him mumble.

your heart skips a beat when he opens his eyes, groggy with sleep, and touches your arm. you sigh shakily.

"too late," you smile softly at him, "i'll prep your pre-workout so you can take it with you, okay?"

"thanks," he tells you, his voice raspy.

he smiles back at you and reaches out, poking you in the forehead. when you feel his fingers touch your skin, you think you'll drop dead right there.

"are you gonna move out after you graduate?" reo asks, nine months into your arrangement.

you've been avoiding even thinking about it. you're busy with graduation, you justify to yourself, you don't have time to look for a new place yet.

"hm?" you hum innocently, "i dunno. haven't had time to think about it."

"nagi asked me 'bout it," he mentions casually, and you freeze. is he counting the days down until you leave?

you and nagi have settled into a daily routine: you wake him up, he goes to practice, you study after class, and when he comes back late at night, he hangs out with you for an hour before he has to sleep. mostly, you and nagi sit on either end of the couch, sharing the cozy throw, and read manga.

it's lulled you into a false sense of security, you think.

"oh," is all you manage to say. maybe he finds you bothersome? maybe he wants his own space back?

reo hits you over the head, lightly. "what's that face for? it's been going good living with nagi, right?"

and it was. it was everything you had dreamed of, and it shocked you how well you got along with nagi. you think of how, in early mornings when both of you (mostly you) are rushing out the door, bumping hips in the kitchen, even then it seems like you were working together.

"yep," you reply, sipping your iced coffee, "too good."

reo takes a bite of his food, and suggests, "maybe you two should just keep living together. you can split rent or something."

"can't rely on nagi forever," you protest.

"why not?" he says, just like he did when he had first suggested this whole thing, "isn't that what you want?"

you kick him under the table, angry that he was bringing your feelings up now. yes, you want to scream, it is. but nothing has changed between you and nagi, nothing at all.

you're always trying to keep your feelings in check: when he peers over your shoulder as you're cooking, the warmth of his body hot asgainst yours. or how adorable he looks when he comes out of the shower, his shaggy hair falling over his eyes, his face shiny. those are the times your feelings want to burst.

"just talk to nagi about it," reo nudges. you're not sure if he's talking about the housing or the feelings.

you're curled up with nagi on the couch when you muster the courage to say anything. your legs are touching his under the blanket, and you feel as if that might connect you to him.

there's a month left until you graduate, which is absolutely not enough time for you to find a place to live, but you were scared. you hear the victory sounds of nagi's mobile game, so you decide now's better than never.

"so," you start, and his gaze drifts over to you, "i haven't really found a new place to live yet."

it's quiet. "s'okay," nagi mumbles, not even looking up from his phone, "you can move out whenever."

well, at least that answers your question on whether or not he wants you to move out. at least he wasn't pushing you out the door, you tell yourself.

you don't know what else to say. do you want me to leave so badly? you want to ask. can't i stay with you? you think, desperate. but those words don't leave your mouth.

"are you coming to my graduation?" you ask lightly, and regret it when you realize that you've opened yourself up again.

he shrugs. "dunno my prac schedule yet, but reo's going right?" he replies, as if reo could replace him.

you feel cold despite the blanket, and sink deeper into the couch, feeling drained. from the corner of your eye, you see nagi tapping away at his phone, signaling to you that he's still deep in his game. you take your legs away, knowing he wouldn't even notice.

"yep," you say and awkwardly crawl out of your warm spot on the couch. "i'm gonna go to bed first, nagi."

"g'night," he replies, finally looking up as you pass him with your head bowed. he watches you walk back to your room, and doesn't take his eyes off of you until you close the door behind you.

you eventually begged reo to find you an empty unit in one of his father's rental properties.

he had been insistent you just talk to nagi, as if he knew something you didn't, but you had to explain that you did, and nagi had no objections to you moving out, and you weren't going to wait until he shoved you out the door to move on.

it has been so awkward since that small conversation you'd had with nagi. maybe it was you, feeling out of place, like you had reached a point of no return.

waking him up in the mornings were now rushed, gently pushing him awake and scurrying off before he was fully awake. leaving his pre-workout on the counter instead of handing it to him. sitting at the kitchen table under the guise of studying instead of curling up on the couch with him.

it's not that he'd changed, you knew, it's that you couldn't keep playing pretend with your feelings anymore.

you hear the front door click as nagi walks into the apartment.

"hey," he says, pushing open the door to your room, "i'm home."

you turn from your position at the front of your closet, where you were just about to take out your suitcase. "oh, hey," you reply lamely, "welcome home."

he hovers, something he's never really done, as if he knows you have something to say, as if he had something to say. the words were stuck in your throat.

"reo told me you're moving out," nagi finally tells you.

traitor, you curse at reo. "uh, yeah," you smile tightly, "i didn't want to keep bothering you, so..."

"you're not bothering me," he replies, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't notice.

there's another silence. what else can you say?

"you don't have to leave," nagi continues, "i don't mind if you stay here."

but do you want me to stay? you want to ask. the way he says it so casually, as if it didn't matter whether you stayed or not, only solidified your decision to be away from him. at least then you could just be his friend without delusions of sharing a life with him so intimately.

"nah," you try to keep your voice steady, "it's probably better this way."

"i like living with you, though," nagi shuffles his hair uncomfortably as he says it.

you laugh, maybe a little bitterly, "because i cook and clean for you?"

"no," he says quickly, looking flustered, "no, i just like it when you're here."

but why? you want to scream. your heart pounds, because you feel like you're close to something, but at the same time it feels so far. sometimes you're convinced that he knows about your feelings, that sometimes you two are talking about them even though the topic is unrelated.

"it was nice," you settle on saying, as if it wasn't life changing, "but i can afford living on my own now."

"i don't want you to leave," nagi almost sounds like he's whining, and your heart skips another beat.

"why not?" you say, frustrated, breathless, "we can't just keep living together forever."

"what if i want to?" he says, and you feel like the conversation has become out of control.

your mind is racing. what is happening right now, you try to breathe through your nose. what is he talking about right now, you try to ask yourself.

"nagi—" you stop yourself, trying to get a grip, "what are you saying?"

you're looking at him now and you're surprised by the determination in his eyes. it's what he looks like when he's really focused, like he is when he plays soccer.

"i want to live with you forever," he declares, sounding defiant, as if that wasn't what you wanted.

but you're not sure what it means. you only know that five years is a long time to be holding onto your feelings.

"i don't understand," you mumble, staring at the floor, quieter than before, "i love you, nagi. not as a friend. so no, i can't just live with you forever."

you feel him before you see him, his body towering over you. when you look up, he's pouting. he puts his hand on top of your head, gentle, warm.

"why do you look so sad," he wonders, as if he hadn't heard what you just said, "that's why i want to live with you forever, dummy."

you wake up to nagi wrapped around you.

"sei," you groan, turning in his arms to look at his sleeping face, "you're heavy."

he mutters, groggy, incoherent, and you can't help but press a kiss to his nose. his hair is falling all over his face, but your eyes memorize every slope. he squeezes you harder.

"why are you awake so early," he mutters, nudging your chest with his head, "it's my day off."

you soothe your hand down his bare back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. he works so hard, and his days off are so rare. you wiggle some more, to loosen his arms.

"i know," you smile, "but let me go make breakfast, kay? i'm hungry."

he shakes his head and whines. "no," he refuses, "just go back to sleep."

you relax, unable to tell him no. mornings with nagi often go like this, except that you usually have enough self-control to get him up. but sometimes, you remember what it was like wanting him so bad, that now you remind yourself to enjoy it.

as a partner, nagi is clingy, vulnerable. but he's also determined, and sometimes, the intensity with which he wants you catches you off guard.

"y/n," he calls, his breath hot against your neck, "i'm happy you're here."

you close your eyes, nodding. "me, too."

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #bllk x reader #yoi's crops 🌱 #from: nagi seishiro 🎀

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere House"wife" Satoru x Reader

Call it a happy accident, the way Satoru transitioned from being a full-time sorcerer to being the man you come home to after he does domestic chores all day. You two talked about it for a little while. There was a time when Satoru would come home late at night almost every day. And he would wind down, take a shower, crawl into the bed into your arms and just pour out his heart to you. He would say he hates his job. He hates how repetitive these days were becoming. Meetings upon meetings in the morning, and then having to exercise curses that never stood a chance for the next 6 hours. You soothed him, of course. Or at least as much as you could.

Then you proposed that maybe he starts taking days off. So you'll go to work and he'll stay home to heal his mind as much as he needs to. He would do anything for you, so of course he tries it out just to make you happy. And a few rest days turned into a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a couple of months. You don't remember the last time Satoru went to work by now, his phone blowing up every day from the people and job he kind of abandoned. He didn't care anymore.

He realized that he was happiest doing these mundane and very human tasks every day. And his motivation to keep going was just you. If he was bored, he would do the laundry that was full. I mean, the washer and dryer was just down the hall, why not? Washed the few dishes in the sink. Maybe he'll stop by the store to restock the fridge. You recognized how much of a....housewife he was being when he would retell his daily tasks to you before you two went to bed. "Oh, so I've got a little housewife now?" The neurons in his brain crackled when he heard that word escape your mouth.

Housewife

You raised your eyebrow when you watched him whisper the word underneath his breath. "You alright?" No, he wasn't. Well, he felt fantastic at the thought of his only purpose being his favorite person's provider and nothing else. But other than that, not really. He shamelessly enjoys having that title over his head. So he decides to play the part.

In the morning, he'll wake up before you, stare at your beautiful face for around 10 minutes before getting up to prepare your lunch and make you breakfast. NO, he can't cook. But he does know how to follow instructions. You wrote him some recipes you loved and he takes extra care to follow every single step to the exact measurements that you want. And when you smile at the breakfast, or make that sigh of relief, his heart jumps. Want more coffee? Do you want tea instead? He could pour you a flask of hot coffee before you go. And don't forget your lunch, either. He had fun making the panda shaped molds of rice.

And when you give your kiss goodbye and he finishes begging you to stay for a mandatory 5 minutes, he begins cleaning up the kitchen. He washes the dishes and clears the laundry if there's any. Mops the bathroom and cleans the tub, toilet bowl, and sink until they're sparkly and clean. Vacuums carpets and turns on a humidifier with your favorite scent lightly wafting throughout the place. Though he usually does this 20 minutes before you come back home so the smell is fresh in your brain when you walk in the door. He checks off the grocery list, visits a few people from his hitlist that he knows either hooked up with you in the past, broke up with you, or just tried to fuck with you in general. Sold a few organs from said people from the hitlist's bodies and goes back home to clean himself up and relax.

Relax meaning checking your location every five minutes, doing a mandatory 10 minute phone call on your lunch break to either try and persuade you to skip the rest of the work day to come back home, have phone sex(you talk him through his orgasm), or just let you talk and he'll listen. After the phone call, he'll eat his first meal of the day. He knows you don't like when he doesn't take care of himself, so he eats as much as his big heart desires. Which usually consists of your scraps of breakfast and dinner that you don't finish, so it feels like you two are bonding over the same meal(even though you aren't there). He does like eating with you and next to you, but it just feels more intimate when you two eat from the same plate. By the end of his meal, he's usually rock hard and close to tears at the fact that you won't be here to help him get off again for the next few hours.

So, he takes a cold shower(or two, if it's serious(and when I say "two" I mean he hops in, finishes, and then has to go back because it rises again with a vengeance)). And after his cold shower, he goes to the gym and does his weight resistance training. He knows you love every part of his body and his beautifully sculpted muscles(your words), so he takes good care of them. Then if he has free time, he'll watch some tv, pop up at Jujutsu Tech to piss everyone off for a few minutes, buy some sweets and desserts you two can share and then go back home to take a nap.

He wakes up about 30 minutes before you come back home so he can cook dinner. You told him you wouldn't mind having something "simple" tonight. And if he thinks carefully, this could mean anything from a boiled stew to TV dinner. Based off of your tone and how you said this sentence, he'll assume you wouldn't want something crazy to eat, so he actually buys some deli sandwiches from a shop not too far away. And when you got home, had Satoru take your coat, shoes, and jacket, you told him you were actually excited to eat. "It's been a while since we went there, huh? Oh, it's still warm!" The bread was toasted the way you liked and everything in between.

You were so lucky to have this man take care of you. You told him you loved him and if there was anything he wanted in return for his hard efforts to keep you happy, you'd do it. He shyly shook his head, a small blush overcoming his soft cheeks. He finished eating his sandwich before you and you noticed how silent he went. You softly grabbed his hand and he immediately looked up at you in question. "You alright? You're being quiet." You raise your hand from his hand to wipe a bread crumb from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah......actually, no. I just miss being able to grab your ass every second of the day, because your job doesn't allow your boyfriend into the building."

"Satoru, you know I can't take work off, I have to take care of us." Satoru flails and grabs your hand. "But babe, you know I have enough money to buy us 16 houses! You don't need to work!" You roll your eyes. "Well, I don't want to be in the house all day rotting away."

"We can rot together." "No!" He's a romantic at heart. He stands to walk off at your rejection and you grab his hand to pull him back. "Baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." "But.....you said we can't rot together...." "I know, but we can just be here right now and enjoy each other. We have all night and even some time in the morning. Right?" He sighs at your words and nod. ".........why are you hard?"

"Because you noticed I was quiet." You roll your eyes. He was also an attention seeker. How could you forget. "Really?" He nods. This time, you sigh, and you walk over to the living room couch, patting your lap. Satoru happily bounces over and plops down his weight on you. "Oof!" Sitting sideways on your lap, you caress his back with one hand and palm his hard on through his jeans with the other. His body immediately relaxes underneath your touch, and you smile up at him. "My baby has been working so hard today, hm?" He nods and stares at your hand. "I'm glad you're being productive. What did you do today, Satoru?"

"Today, I cleaned up the kitchen and did the laundry.." You unbutton his pants when he starts talking. But before you pull them down, you pause. "And what else?" He realizes what you're trying to do and swallows stressfully. He just wants you to take care of him. "And I mopped in the kitchen and the bathroom. I vacuumed, too." You pull his pants down enough to pull out his rock hard cock. It was warm and heavy in your hand, the tip straining with the blood swollen up to it. It was red and glistening with pre, threatening to drip down.

You gently wrapped your hand around him, slowly jerking him up and down, and a whimper slips out his lips. "Come on, baby, keep talking." He grabs your arm that's holding his cock and grabs at the couch with his other. "Um...I also........that's it." He cuts himself off, and his eyelids flutter shut when you put a little more pressure onto your hold, your thumb swiping over his tip.

"Hm? Are you sure?" You know he cut himself off. Which only means he's hiding something from you. He nods his head in response, and you let go of him. He whines at the cold that surrounds him now and looks at you. "Whyy???" "I don't know, baby, I think you're lying to me." You give him a look of fake concern, and your hand instead travels south to very gently fondle his sack, which immediately gets him to squirm.

"I'm not!!" You scrunch your eyebrows. "Are you??" He goes silent, and you stare him deep into his eyes. He can't reciprocate the eye contact and stares at your hand. You stop touching him, and he looks back up at you with sad, glistening puppy eyes. "I went through the list." Your eyebrows shoot up before you start scolding him. "The list??? I thought I told you to get rid of that thing? Satoru." When you first moved in with one another, you found his hit list full of people you used to talk to. He planned to kill them off one by one to have you to himself. You never truly got mad at him for it, because most of those people on the list genuinely were big pieces of shits that you wanted to burn in hell.....but technically it still wasn't okay for him to just do that behind your back.

"No, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-" you lightly push him off of your lap, which was basically his equivalent of being shoved off of a cliff and his heart drops when you stand up. "NO! No. Wait, baby, please. Let me make it up to you. Please don't leave me like this." He trips onto his knees but still makes record speed in crawling over to you. He grabs your closest leg and hugs it tightly. You could feel his cock(which was still out) rub against your pant leg. So dramatic, you think.

You look down at him, and he stares up at you with those stupid big blue eyes. "......" He takes your silence as his que to convince you. "I can make it better, look!" He shifts in front of you, still on his knees, and begins to unbutton and pull your pants down. You lose balance and stumble back into the dining table behind you, using it for balance as Satoru yanks down down your pants, his eyes staring at the goal.

"Satoru, what the hell are you doing?" Funny enough, your words contradict your actions, and you instinctually spread your legs farther apart for him to have more space in between. He grabs your legs and places them on top of his shoulders, and you scoot back onto the dining table for more comfort, cups and silverware clinking as you clumsily push them back.

"I can help like this." He pushes his tongue as far as he can past your lips, getting a strong first taste at your pussy. A firm and slow stripe from your hole up to your clit and you hiss, gripping onto the table. Satoru moans loudly and closes his eyes to enjoy himself as much as possible. He shifts impossibly closer to you, hugging your thighs to both sides of his face to be buried deep and makes out with your sensitive bud. You could feel him occasionally exhale his warm breath onto you before firmly flicking his tongue onto you again.

You begin whining at the waves of pleasure crashing down on you. Drool and your essence cover Satoru's chin. His cock twitches endlessly against the hardwood floor, more of his pre dripping onto it the more he gets you to moan. "Get up." His eyes snap open, and he pulls away to look up at you. Your fingers dig into his scalp, and you pull him up, earning a wince from him. He knows what you want and leans in to let you taste yourself on his tongue. In the middle of the kiss, he suddenly flinches at the feeling of your hand once again grabbing his cock. You separate the kiss and his gaze trails down to your pussy.

You took his cock head and pressed it in between your lips, rubbing it up and down against your entrance. Your eyes seemed to glisten in a way he hadn't seen in a long time and you maintained eye contact, whispering to him. "You gonna be a good boy and fuck me how I taught you?" Each word that slipped out of your lips was enough to make him insane, and he was ready to do whatever you commanded. He robotically nods and you laugh at his reaction.

You press a soft kiss to his chin, letting him spread your legs on top of the table. He softly spreads your lips and makes eye contact with your hole. Heat radiates from you and he soaks up every last bit of it. All he can see, think of, and hear is you. "Beautiful." He whispers underneath his breath. You caress his arm to snap him out of his mind and he leans down closer to you, his head now pressing to your entrance gently. "Please show me." And he takes it upon himself to shower you with the affection you deserve in hopes to satisfy you again.

Did I cook????? Cuz I feel like I wrote this way too fast.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru x reader #yandere satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #need him right now #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere x reader smut #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #tw yandere #satoru gojo #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut

[notiddygxthgf]

wakasa throws the “i’m sorry ms. imaushi” or “so sorry mama” whenever you’re mad at him and it works, the little shit knows that as soon as he says either of those things you’re no longer mad at him i hate him so much

wakasa has such a grip on you and he fucking knows it. ugh.

he won't even be phased by you when you get all up in his face shouting and calling him names. he'll just stand there smirking at you because the only thing he can focus on is how god damn pretty you look when you're angry

shit, sometimes, he pisses you off just to see you all hot and bothered like this -- eyes pointed and brows drawn, accusatory finger pointed at his chest.

he's already thinking of the 30 different positions he would have you in right fucking now if he could -- god, he just wants to fuck that little attitude right out of you. (yes, I head canon that waka is a brat tamer and no one can tell me otherwise.)

"Are you even fucking listening?" You would ask.

"Mhm," he would say, but he would never want you to feel like he didn't care about what you have to say, so he would add, "I'm listening, mama, keep going."

you hope he doesn't catch the way you stammer as you continue your ramble. he does -- and his smirk only widens at it.

he knows you could never stay mad at him.

when he decides he's had his fun, he'll slide his arm around you, lips dripping with those sweet nothings he knows you love to hear.

"I'm sorry, mama," He croons softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I won't do it again."

he knows you're not really that angry at him. Rather, that you're angry at a situation and you want to be heard by him.

"Promise?" you would ask him.

"'Course, mama," he adds. "don't want my future wife crying' over something I did. y'er too damn pretty. ain't that right, mrs. imaushi?"

then your gaze would soften, your anger would weaken, and he would know he had won. he knew he had your pretty ass wrapped around his finger. no one else could handle his princess the way he could.

he knows you're not goin anywhere.

#ask notiddygxthgf ✧˖*°࿐ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #thirsts ʚ♡ɞ・ #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa smut #leo rambles ☄. *. ⋆ #wakasa x reader

[suiana]

@yandere-romanticaa (aaand @harmonysanreads) i have an idea for yandere jingyuan 🤑🎀

imagine being his old lover that passed on because you were a short life species. you two loved each other dearly, at least from his point of view. so when you died, he was absolutely devastated, feeling empty even though he didn't show it on his face. he's the general of the luofu after all!

he didn't try moving on. why even bother? he knows it will never work, he'll never move on. you were everything and anything he needed. so he just leaves the house you two once shared in it's old condition, pretending you're still alive and by his side, talking to an empty house.

but then one particularly boring day, you reappeared, and with the astral express no less! he was flabbergasted, wide eyed and left stunned when he saw your familiar face walk the streets of the luofu, smiling like nothing was wrong. like you didn't take his heart and left him empty on the inside.

he couldn't even do anything, couldn't even muster up a simple 'hi' because of how shocked he was with your sudden reemergence. you... reincarnated? and now you're traveling with the express now? he didn't know how to feel.

but what he did know was that he had to get you back. of course he did! you belonged to him after all. thankfully he's now more mature, more experienced. he won't make the same mistakes he did when he was younger. no, he really doesn't want to have to restrain you again. he hates seeing you cry and yell at him, you know?

so when you and the astral express approached him to help the luofu for its crisis or something he acted like how he'd treat anyone else. acted approachable, like an easy going man who wouldn't dare think of anything as nasty as kidnapping or murder. he's grown more patient and knows how to hold back now in the time he's spent without you. even if he really wants to tear out that person's eyes for even glancing at you... he knows it'll scare you away and tear down the perception of him that he so carefully built up for you. so he held back. simply laughed and smiled at you as you told him about the people who confessed to you. oh well, at least he got to see your flushed cheeks and the way you grow flustered.

i mean, that smile he always has is just way too deceptive! anyone would think he's just a lazy and kind general! and maybe even get flustered because of his charming actions!

unfortunately you got charmed.

you fell for his charms, as he expected, and even told your express buddies that you'd settle down in the luofu after you solved the luofu's crisis with them. jingyuan couldn't be happier. ah, so your love for him carried on into the next life too? he just can't help but have a smug smile on his face once you confess to him.

it's even worse when he finds out your lifespan is longer than what it used to be. maybe even as long as a xianzhou native's? he's glad the aeons have decided to reward him for his dedication to you. he really can't bear losing you once more.

he gets the house prepared for your return, all innocent and sweet as he leads you back to your forever home that you used to fight so hard to leave. but don't worry! it's all for your own good! and he won't have to restrain you this time because he got your approval of love before making any moves.

all you have to do now is love him for the rest of your lives. that's simple enough right? he'll do all the hard work, all you need to do is welcome him home with open arms and a sweet smile on your face.

all you need to do is love. him. back.

and now you've also got a son (yanqing) to take care of! why would you ever leave him? you don't want him to get all sad now, would you?

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jingyuan #yandere jing yuan #yandere jingyuan x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[mitsies]

❊ shootin' hoops! - childe . . ajax can't get enough of you. meanwhile, you've definetely had it with him.

ajax is 19 when he falls in love with you.

he meets you in his second year of college, in a stupid, annoying, lame sociology class which he's only in because it's a requirement to his major. why else would he be in a dank room at 8 in the morning? oh, he hates it. the class is slow-paced. his professor is even slower. an old, little man. ajax bets that he could bench his weight. and maybe a little more than that, too, without breaking a sweat.

the class sucks, and it's not even hard, and he would probably skip every single one and pass with a hundred and ten percent. and he really, really considers this course of action, too. until, he sees you in the back of the classroom. he doesn't think he's seen you before. he'd remember if he did.

wow, you look pretty. wow, you're cool. and wow, maybe he'll stick around for the lecture tomorrow after all. ajax grins to himself. and maybe he'll bench his professor, too, if you'd think that was cool. would that make him look strong, and show off his muscles? then he might really try.

after the class lets out (which takes light years, he's convinced) he makes a beeline to where you're packing up your notebook and stationary. "lame class, huh?"

you turn at his words, eyes wide as you take him in. ajax smiles with his teeth, and he can imagine all the girls and guys in the class swooning, he can practically hear their thoughts; 'oh, who's that cute guy? his dimples are so adorable! oh, wow, i should ask his number. he looks like he would be the star player of our college's basketball team! so muscular, and cool!'

and if they're all thinking that, oh, he can't even conceptualise what you must be thinking. he feels butterflies, and a little dizzy, and a lot anxious— but in a cool way, of course— when you open your mouth to respond.

"i thought it was cool, actually."

he's breathless for a second because wow, woah, oh god, your voice is just as nice— no, it's better, than he'd imagined it. and then he registers what you'd just said and it takes everything in him to stay composed as his brain short-circuits looking for something to say in response. so-long to his ingenious plan of bonding over mutual hatred of your professor. hm. he's kind of backed himself in a corner. oh, well, it seems like he'll have to rely on his massive charm to get him through to you. not a problem!

"really? you've got awful taste."

your face sours. his heart thunders— oh, you're so, so cute. he likes it when you look at him like that. actually, he likes it when you look at him in general. he likes the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you're irritated. the way you look like you've tasted something bitter makes him think— would your lips taste sour, too? like lemons, and limes? like biting into a cardamom pod?

before he can think about it too much, you speak again, and he's entranced— again. "just my thoughts."

"well clearly, you don't think much."

you blink at him. your eyelashes frame your eyes so nicely, too. he wonders if there's a colour that encapsulates the shade of them. ajax thinks that your eyes are like the rest of you— indescribable. and then you scoff, and walk away with your bag slung over a shoulder, and he can't wait to see you tomorrow.

three weeks go by. ajax doesn't think he could be more in love.

he's showed up to sociology every single day, just for the sake of seeing you. lighting up like a match the second you show up in the doorframe, and going out in a similar fashion once you're gone. he relishes every single second in your company. he carves every half-smile and every grimace, and every time you purse your lips in confusion and every time you nod along to the professor when you understand. oh, he's in love. and it's bad. it's so bad.

"don't tell me you're actually doing the extra credit work," he says, staring at open laptop on your desk. it's work time, and while ajax could hypothetically leave, you're staying, so he's staying too.

you glance up at him. lord knows how you've put up with him for so long. he's annoying, he's bothersome, he does not leave you alone, not for a second. the only time he sees you is sociology so he's got to make the most of it. "i've got nothing better to do, ajax."

oh, he loves, loves, loves it when he says your name. it might be his favourite sound in the world. "you could leave. it's a free class."

you raise a brow— "you could leave too."

"i could. but what'd you do without me?"

you laugh the littlest bit, and he feels a dozen times lighter. maybe your laugh is actually his favourite sound, he can't decide. "probably be a lot more productive."

he likes what you have. he likes this friendship-ish kind of thing. he likes that you only hate him sometimes, and that you can stand to be around him other times. that's not to say he's satisfied. oh, not even close. 3 weeks were enough for ajax to imagine it— a lifetime. he imagines holding your hand at graduation. and he imagines movie nights turned sleepovers, and he imagines what colours you'd choose for the bedsheets of your first house together. he imagines lists of names. he imagines forever. but this is a good start. you're 50-50 now, he's just got to work on that hundred percent.

and, in his opinion, 3 weeks is a long, long time. that's 7 whole days of 24 whole hours. and only god knows how many minutes are in those hours. way too many, he thinks. he's smart enough to know that good things take time, but he doesn't think that he can be only your classmate-sometimes-friend for any longer. he wants more. needs it.

you speak before he can reply, "you really have nothing to be working on?"

he probably does. a lot of business homework, something math related undoubtedly. but that wouldn't take him too long. so he opens his mouth to say as much when he remembers— he likely wouldn't have time later tonight. oh, but he's already not been doing his work— would it be embarrassing to start now? would you think he's stupid? he's so cool, and he'd hate if you didn't agree. in any other situation, he'd pop open his notebooks and get to work. but you make him all conscious, and nervous, and hot in the face. and how long has it been since you asked? he should probably respond. you stare expectantly and he feels warm all over, maybe almost as hot as he looks. (you'd agree. right? you would.)

"maybe just a few small things," he grins at you, "but i can squeeze them in before my game tonight."

you hum in response. "i forgot there was one tonight. against our rivals, right?"

his heart warms— you remembered who it was against. you might've forgotten about it in general, but you remembered it. that must be a good sign. oh, he's got this in the bag.

"yeah. at 7."

you smile at him. he thinks he might die right there. "well, good luck. i'm sure you'll do great."

he beams at the compliment, heart thundering like a caged bird between his ribs. compliments always meant more from you. he could probably definitely recall every single one you've ever spoken to him, if he tried. (and probably even if he didn't.)

ajax doesn't miss a beat, this time. "i'd probably do a lot better if you were there cheering me on."

he doesn't miss it. he doesn't miss the way your mouth twists a little bit in surprise, because this was really not what you were expecting. and he definitely, doesn't miss the way your eyes slide over to your hands, and your fingers which are suddenly all too fidgety. he's embarrassed you. his boyish grin grows tenfold. "don't tell me i've got you going shy on me."

you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, and he knows you well enough at this point to know you're trying to hide your bashfulness. "oh, you wish."

"you're right. i do."

you freeze. he doesn't think he could hide his joy at your embarrassment even if he wanted to, even if he tried. it's hard for ajax to pinpoint his favourite one of your feelings— he thinks you're cute all the time. he thinks it's funny when you're disgusted, or annoyed. he thinks you're adorable when you're happy, and especially so when you're sleepy. but he's beginning to suspect that he's especially fond of you when you're flustered like this.

the professor speaks. ajax's mood is instantly a little more sour because god, even the man's voice is slow and boring. the free class was officially dismissed, and students were free to go. under any other circumstances, ajax would be happy about this. but he really does have to go. he wishes you could come with him. he wishes you could come with him everywhere, really.

"are you serious?"

your question catches him off guard. you're looking at him again, with those pretty eyes, and you have a familiar expression on— it's one he recognises as confusion. you're confused. he softens, more than he thought possible. it takes everything in him to resist pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek, the crease of your furrowed brows, the corner of your lip where an unconscious pout makes itself known. and he realises he might've been unclear with his advances. so he meets your eyes and says, "of course i am. i'm serious about you if you are about me, yeah?"

it's some kind of consent, or acknowledgment. that what you both have can and probably will evolve. you're smart enough to know that he knows, and he's smart enough to know that you know. and you nod softly, and smile like flower petals, and he decides he'll never get over you. he'll never need another.

"i'll see if i can go tonight. but if not, i'll text you."

he thinks he's the happiest person alive. he could kiss you right then, right there, but your wrinkly old dustbag of a professor is still in the room and he won't entertain the geezer. "i'll see you."

he doesn't see you until the final quarter of the game, but you've been there the whole time.

his team is winning, of course, because they have him, but he's been out of it all game. any moment he can, he's scanning the stands with a watchful eye. it's one of the biggest games of the season. he knows he should be laser-focused, but he's not and it's all your fault. there must be hundreds of faces pressed together and he can't seem to find yours. until he does.

you're closer to the ground than he thought you'd be. hiding in plain sight. and when he sees you, he swears he might start floating. there are flowers in his chest, blooming an ache deep inside. something so disgustingly sweet, so addictingly sickening is awoken at the sight of you in his team's colour. he thinks you'd look beautiful in his spare jersey. he smiles, and it's all teeth. a vicious kind of adrenaline fills him as the next play is called to begin. he thinks he'll give it to you after he wins.

and wins he does. with flying colours, really— the other team didn't really stand a chance to begin with, not as soon as he saw you there cheering him on. his teammates flock to him like sheep, piling on him and shouting things he can't really hear over the general public's applause of the home team's victory. and everything is happening; his coach is slapping his back, his teammate is dragging him somewhere, someone's handing him water, people are screaming his name, yelling about his winning shot, and all he hears is his breathing, and all he sees is you, standing with your hands clasped and lips pressed together in a smile. all he sees is you, so you're the first person he runs to.

since you're in the first stand to the bottom, it's easy for him to clear the guard rail and get to your side. someone in the background shouts his name. he doesn't care. the people who were previously next to you are shoved aside— he doesn't care at all. he's right there with you.

"you came," his breath comes raspy, dry. "you came to see me."

you shrug nervously, "i guess i did."

so he kisses you. ajax is 19 when he falls in love, for the first and last time. ajax is 19 when he kisses you, and he's young, and he's stupid, and he will never regret this, not ever, not when you kiss him back almost instantly, pulling him close by his jersey. it feels so right, it feels too real to be true. he's got to be dreaming. any second now, he expects his daft old professor's voice to scold him for falling asleep during a lecture. but the voice never comes, and you really do taste like lemons and spice, and he hears phone cameras clicking and cheering grow tenfold and he doesn't care because he gets to kiss you.

at some point, you break away. your face is red-hot and he can feel the warm blood flooding your cheeks with how close your faces remain. he ikes it when your lips are swollen because of his. he likes it when your eyes are fixed on him. he likes you. he thinks he was doomed to like you from the start.

when the background finally fades back in, he sees his teammates cheering and ooh-ing like stupid junior high boys. you seem a little disoriented, so he laughs and pulls you away from the stands, helping you climb down the safety rail with a hand in yours and another on the small of your back.

ajax hates his sociology class. he hates the lectures, his professor, the subject— but something good came of it. because he really loves you. with your cardamom tongue and smile lines, and the crease of your eyebrows when you're annoyed, and all of it, and more. he loves you the most. more than anything.

flowers chosen: small sunflower & pink camellia . . adoration & longing for you

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe #childe x you #tartaglia #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact childe #childe x reader fluff #tartaglia x reader fluff #ajax x reader fluff #tartagila #reader insert #mitsies 5k #ajax #ajax fic #tartaglia fic #childe fic

[alastxrs]

hii! how are u?? having a nice day? hope I'm not bothering<3

could u do Alastor x Male Overlord! Reader who is the opposite of him? Grumpy, rarely smiles and doesn't like dancing and singing?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄

❝𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑, are you with anyone?❞

The Radio Demon turned to the daughter of Lucifer and the smile on his face brightened a bit at the question.

He nodded his head as he tapped his cane on the ground. "Yes, I am dear! I've been married to a certain overlord for some time now!" he answered, he hummed as he thought about his lover. "He'll be coming over for a date."

Angel Dust spat out his drink and looked at the overlord demon. "You're WHAT?! I didn't know you were gay!"

"I'm not gay."

"But you aren't straight either!"

Alastor just shrugged his shoulders as he fixed his sleeves. "Can't I get married simply because I like a certain demon for who they are and not their gender?" he asked.

That made the pornstar quiet which was what he wanted.

Charlie just smiled as she looked at Alastor. "Well I can't wait to meet him!" she said.

"Didn't know anyone would want to marry the Radio Demon…" Vaggie mumbled under her breath.

Husker would've agreed with her if he hadn't been working for him for years.

After a certain period of time, a (h/c) haired male entered the hotel and their presence was terrifying.

"Darling!" The Radio Demon wrapped an arm around the slightly smaller demon who just leaned into his touches. "This is Y/N, one of the most daring and powerful overlords on this side of the pentagram!"

"Pleasure to meet you, Princess Charlie." The Overlord bowed his head at the sight of Charlie wanting to show respect before he turned to Alastor with a small smile. "You didn't need to introduce me that way, dear."

Everyone was surprised to say the least

THE RADIO DEMON TAKEN? MARRIED?

Alastor always seemed like the type to hate being touched yet he was married and affectionate with?

Y/N was the complete opposite of Alastor

Rarely smiled when he came to visit the hotel for his husband

Quietely observed whenever they were singing and dancing

The two kept their rings on golden/silver chains instead of wearing them on their ring fingers.

"Well, farewell chums!"

At the snap of Alastor's fingers, Y/N and himself vanished from the hotel to a restaurant in cannibal town.

Y/N looked at his lover and tilted his head. "May I hold your hand, dear?" he asked his husband, the Radio Demon was relaxed with the other Overlord.

Sinners that saw the two at the restaurant fled in fear of getting killed or their souls taken.

Alastor's smile turned into something that softened as he took his lover's hand. "Of course, darling." he nodded his head while the two of them walked towards where they would be sitting.

The two Overlords wouldn't let anything ruin their date.

Of course, Y/N visited more often

He was more affectionate than Alastor

Alastor married a demisexual icon

He just always asked before he did anything

Nobody in the hotel knew what Y/N liked except Alastor

Y/N was always gentle with anybody that he knew

Usually, Y/N was grumpy and never smiled whenever he was alone with anybody

He was less grumpy when Alastor was around and only smiled a bit when his husband was around.

Y/N also avoided dancing and singing like the plague. DON'T EXPECT HIM TO JOIN IN!

Unless it's to slow dance with Alastor

"So...How long have you been married to Alastor?"

"I don't know why it's your business..." The (H/C) haired Overlord turned his head to Angel Dust before taking a sip of whiskey and shrugged his shoulders. "We've been married for decades, we got married when we were alive."

Charlie smiled when she heard that. "So you knew him before? That's really sweet!" she said clapping her hands.

Y/N's frown worsened when he heard him. "Not...really sweet? We only got married when we were humans for benefits." he blunted said and shrugged. "I guess we didn't really fall in love til we ended up down here?"

"But did you love him when you both were alive?"

Y/N looked around to make sure Alastor wasn't around before he softened his expression when thinking about his time with his husband.

He looked away from the princess as he took a sip of his whiskey.

"Of course I did."

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