#this is one of those sets that i do that in this moment

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Rindou x Reader

wc: 1200

angst, fluff

not edited

Rindou loves you. You know he does, but he has this annoying habit of not listening to you sometimes. Especially when it comes to recommendations. You recommend him food? Yeah, he'll try it. spoiler alert: he forgets. what about a movie you watched the other day and liked so much that you told him to watch it immediately? "Yeah, when I have time I will" is his answer. However, he'll only watch it if someone else recommends it too not even remembering you mentioning anything about it. And then he has the nerve to tell you all about it while you listen to him unimpressed. Sometimes it makes you feel like your opinion matters very little to him but you've never told him this. Part of you doesn't want to seem like an insecure girlfriend while the other part thinks there is no deep meaning to this.

This war in your mind ended when you entered your bedroom after having a bad day and saw Rindou sitting on the bed leaning his back on the headboard and "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" in his hands. You remember telling him how you cried reading it. However, you're surprised he's reading what you recommended. sensing your presence Rindou removed his glasses and looked at you.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted" you sit beside him "Do you like it?" you ask indicating the book.

He shrugs

"I've only read 20 pages yet. But Kakucho said it's really good"

You roll your eyes. thinking that you should've seen this coming you mumble "Of course he did" which wasn't as quiet as you expected because Rindou turned to you with a confused hum. You just shake your head as in "nothing" and try to get up but Rindou grips your arm and makes you sit back down. You sigh not having enough energy to deal with this.

"What is it?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

He closed the book setting it aside as he turned to me with narrowed his eyes as if sensing the trap.

"I... don't know. What did I do?"

"It's nothing Rindou, let me go"

Your words had the opposite effect as his grip tightened.

"That's not my name" His voice got low

"Uh it actually is"

"Not for you. Did I fuck up that badly?"

Now that you think about it no he didn't. It's probably you who's overreacting and creating a problem over nothing. You sound ridiculous even to you and you hate yourself.

"It's really nothing. I've just had a bad day so... I just wanna sleep"

After a moment of hesitation, Rindou let you go, his eyes following as you got changed and got in bed turning your back to him. As you lay in bed your overthinking got worse. The fact that he doesn't know what he's doing affects you this badly means that he's not doing it on purpose. But that's even worse. Does that mean that he doesn't even value your opinion enough to think about how neglecting it would affect you? Maybe he thinks you don't care about it so he doesn't too. Or maybe he just forgets. This also means he doesn't care. Every version you think about leads to you thinking he doesn't care and that feels really shitty.

On the other hand, Rindou was watching you lying silently with your back to him and he knew then he definitely did something wrong. You get in bed and do not snuggle up to him planting your head in his neck? Yes, something is terribly wrong.

"C'mon love, tell me what's wrong" he snaked his arm around your waist, and turns out this is all it took for your tears to run free. You bite your lip to stop it from trembling feeling so stupid for crying over something so trivial.

"And don't you dare to say it's nothing bec- are you crying?"

Rindou could swear he heard his heart crash. He turned you around to face him. tucking your hair behind your ear he quickly wiped your tears.

"Hey, don't cry, i- I'm sorry okay? Whatever I did, I didn't mean it just don't cry"

Even though he thought, and has told you this plenty of times, that you looked pretty when you cried, he hated when you cried. Even more, when he was the reason behind those tears.

"Talk to me please?"

Looking anywhere but at him, you opened your mouth to speak.

"It's really stupid"

"So stupid that you're crying over it? I don't care, tell me."

You don't want to.

"It's just... sometimes you don't listen to me"

Rindou was confused. You sound so crazy to him right now. He doesn't listen to you? You have him wrapped around your finger. Your word is a fucking law to him and you have the nerve to say that he doesn't listen to you? He only listens to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything I suggest you just forget until someone else suggests the same thing. Like-" You sniffle between speech "Like this book. You're reading it because Kakucho told you, but I told you to read it weeks ago"

The more you talk the more you want to shut up. Dreading seeing Rindou's expression you focus on your hands.

"It feels like you don't care about my opinion. It's so stupid I know..."

"I don- What?" Rindou couldn't help but exclaim. His mind processing thousands of thoughts right now. You think he doesn't care? How long have you been feeling like this? And you didn't tell him? Is there anything else you're not telling him because it's so "stupid"? "Listen, love, I'm so sorry, I didn't know- Of course, I care, Who do you think I listen to if not you? Ran? Fucker used to think Julius Caeser was named after the salad."

That made you chuckle and it was like a rainbow after the storm for Rindou. A sound he never wants to stop hearing. smiling at you he continued.

"I do listen to you okay? I remember every little detail you tell me. Starting with the shows you watch to the drama going on at your work. By the way, Rika got what she deserved, she was being the bitch first."

"That's what I'm saying" You exclaim and Rindou was so happy he could see you smiling again.

"I don't want you to doubt your value in my life okay? You're the best thing ever happened to me and I'd be a dumbass if I didn't appreciate you. And don't ever try to hide things from me again. No matter how stupid you think it is. Nothing is stupid to me when it comes to you. So no more tears, alright?"

You nod scooting closer.

"alright"

Rindou wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing the crown of your head.

"By the way, I started reading this book because you suggested it. Kakuchou saw it in my car when I bought it and told me it was good"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Sleep now"

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight, love"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

got the idea from modern family's one episode

might delete this one too later, not sure. just felt like sharing

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani brothers #haitani x reader #tokyo revengers rindou

[blondwhowrites]

hey love your writing can you do a mattheo x bunny reader fuffy Thank you

Now uhhhh princess is adored by everyone, okay? Okay.

"Has anyone seen Mattheo?" Theo ripped off his tie letting out a sigh of relief as he was finally able to unbutton his shirt and change into much more comfortable clothing. "Because I'm pretty sure I just saw princess hopping around the corridors being chased by several angry cats."

Enzo shrugged from where he laid on his bed sprawled out and clearly half asleep. "Haven't seen him all day" he groaned rubbing at his eyes. "He's probably with princess—protecting her from all of those supposed angry cats"

"Someone say my name?" Mattheo walked into the room a pretty white bunny curled up in his arms its body shaking from absolute terror.

"Ummm is she okay?" Theo walked up to Mattheo gently patting your head to which you let out one of the cutest sounds he's ever heard. "Poor princess..."

Mattheo looked down at your white furry body still trembling in fear. "Poor thing got absolutely terrorized by some cats" he walked over to his bed gently setting you down onto the covers and watching you snuggle right in. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't feel safe enough to turn back—you know how she gets when she gets scared." He sighed kneeling down next to you and raking his fingers through your soft fur.

"you're gonna go hunt those cats down aren't you?" Enzo rolled over waving his hand at you and cooing at your terrified form. He'd come over and give you affection but he was pretty sure Mattheo would maim him for getting anywhere near you at the moment.

Mattheo's eyes darted over to Enzo from across the room, and he nodded. He leaned over placing a kiss to the top of your furry head before straightening up. "You boys take care of her—I'm going to go cat hunting"

Theo gave Mattheo a thumbs up as he changed into his casual clothes. "You got it" he made his way over to you scooping you up from Mattheo's bed and cooing at you softly as you snuggled into his arms. "Come on love let's get you all pampered and pretty."

#reader insert #slytherin boys #harry potter #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle blurb 🐍 #bunny!reader #bunny animagus!reader

[dyaz-stories]

don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

[f0point5]

would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?

i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point

The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.

I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠

✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨

Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?

Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.

He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.

Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.

And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.

He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.

It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.

Aren’t you, Max?

Isn’t he?

Is he?

So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.

He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.

He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.

You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.

No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.

Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.

If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.

You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-

“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.

Fuck. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.

“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”

Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.

You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”

“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.

“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.

“Sure,”

Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?

He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.

You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.

“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”

He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.

Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?

“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fanfiction

[the-xolotl]

Songbird, Sing Me a Song

Alastor x singer!Reader

𝄞 A/N: i have this HC that Alastor has a special appreciation for singers (musicians in general) who are more classically inclined or those to perform music of his tastes especially if it reminds him of home

summery: In which Alastor owns your soul, just for the purpose of having live entertainment for himself.

✎ TAGS: sfw, no warnings, Alastor just wants to hear Reader sing, terms of endearment, no use of y/n, gn reader, no physical desc of reader, not proof read

“Come here, my pretty songbird,” Alastor’s lulling voice beckoned with his usual jovial tone, sounding like a lowly whisper. Your ears seem to almost perk up as he calls to you, pausing your current task in favor of answering to his command. Alastor has a habit of summoning you to his side at the drop of a hat, you were use to dropping whatever you’re doing in the moment to adhere to whatever he asked.

The call felt like a tug on your very soul, a gentle pull on the chain that tethered you to him. This very connection guiding you to where he is, like an automatic instinct of just knowing where he is. So your feet carried you to follow that direction, which you quickly realized is his radio tower. It’s going to be one of those evenings, the corners of your mouth curled upwards in a small smile.

Once in front of the door you knocked in a specific pattern letting him know it’s you entering, “Good evening, Sir, what can I do you for?” you asked with a polite smile.

The Radio Demon sat behind his desk elbows parked atop it resting his chin on the back of his hands, “Good evening, darling!” he greeted with glee, “Come in, come in. I find myself awfully bored doing this paperwork, I thought perhaps you’d be able to help me with that.”

You enter closing the door behind you, making your way in front of the console with a small giggle, “You’d like me to provide with a lil’ live performance, I take it?” you raise a playful eyebrow at him. This has become quite the habit since he summoned you to the hotel ever since his return.

You’ve been contracted to Alastor for a good few years, even before his impromptu sabbatical. In life, you had been a fairly known jazz and swing singer in some circles. Unfortunately you met an untimely demise due to a freak accident that cut your career short just as you were taking off, ending up in Hell, a little surprising to you.

Alastor had found you at the time you were struggling to adjust to your new hellish life. But everything comes at a price, he decided to take you in after you told him about your singing and musical abilities; your unconditional services for his protection. Simple.

It had been a little rough at first, selling your soul to one of the most dangerous overlords of hell, you later found out. He’s peculiar and extravagant but admittedly not awful. Just different. With time you learn to keep up, and he helped you gain some influence as a singer again by pulling strings and limbs where he needed.

Most recently you are the Hazbin Hotel’s front performer as per his request. As well as his private entertainer.

He flashed a bright smile, “Why you read my mind! Would my nightingale regale me with their beautiful voice for a while?” He regarded you with an extended palm, which you took with a spirited bow.

“How could I deny a personal request from my master? Specially with such flattery.” Sending a wink his way, you skip around the radio equipment over to pull the mic and stool he has for you just for these occasions.

You set your items, sitting a few feet in front of the console with in his line of view. Just how he liked it. “Any requests?” you ask with a smile.

“How about some originals? I’d be delighted to hear the music you wrote, or if you’ve written any recent pieces” His head tilted to the side, a little endearment slipping into his voice. It’s not often he does it, only in very private moments. He’d never say it, not even to you, but you are one of the pets he is most fond of.

Your eyes widen slightly feeling a little sheepish at the request, a light blush tinting your cheeks, “There’s a couple pieces actually,” you straighten your back and fold your hands over your lap preparing to start.

With a wave of his hand one of his shadows skidded about the floor, rising up to place one of his radios next to you.

“Lovely,” his radio filter crackling with the low notes of his voice, “Just adjust the dials and it will do the rest.”

Eying the item curiously you reach out to turn the little nubs. A small sparkle of green light flashed at your fingers. So quick you almost thought it hadn’t actually happened. Though, just as you adjust the frequency a familiar tune begins to play. Your tune.

Blinking a few times you readjust on your seat, things Alastor does shouldn’t surprise you anymore yet he manages to catch you every time. “This one is my favorite in particular,” you speak into the mic now, “Sound coming clear?”

“Crystal,” he says in his transatlantic accent as he leans forward on his desk.

You don’t miss a beat to come in hearing the into of your own song playing. Your melodic voice filling the room carried but the romantic jazz beat. It’s definitely a more modern sound of jazz but Alastor enjoys it nevertheless judging but the way his foot taps to the rhythm.

Gracefully, you croon every word into your mic hitting every note with expert ease. Not a single flat or too sharp note. Even as the tempo crescendos or decrescendos. Your delivery of the piece full of emotion, holding the mic delicately between your fingers. It’s mesmerizing even as you sit in place but your voice holds all the colors to paint the story of your song. Perfectly tuned voice with high and low notes.

As the song came to its end, Alastor applauded along to a clapping track sounding with a proud smile playing on his lips, “What a performance! Truly, one of the most unique voices I’ve ever heard,” he praises, “Well done, dear.”

You smile while bowing your head, “I’m glad you’ve found it enjoyable. I should add it to my set list for the next performance at the hotel.” You couldn’t help the rosie tint rising on your cheeks again. You had been quite proud of that one, so having Alastor appreciate it before anyone else has had the chance to hear it filled you with pride and joy. “You got to be the very first one to hear it.”

His smile grows playful, “Oh-ho! What an honor, dearest,” slightly bowing his head and bringing a hand over his heart to make it heartfelt. You chuckle at the gesture.

For the next couple hours the radio tower becomes immersed in the blues and swing that accompanied your finely tuned voice. The Overlord seemed delighted to have a personal concert while he worked. It reminded him about the little things he enjoyed while alive, your style being different but jazz will always take him back to good ol’ times in New Orleans.

His foot taps along to the rhythms, humming along to the words quietly harmonizing with you. His smile becoming more relaxed and work didn’t seem half bad anymore song after song. It relaxed him greatly to have your voice bouncing off the walls of the radio office, especially being the two of you. It’s like being in your own little bubble, he liked that.

Though, more than just for nostalgia he had other reasons to constantly call private audiences with you he would never tell you about. Even if he seems concentrated now, he occasionally stole glances at you, taking in the way your body swayed to the various beats.

By the end of the night, you had essentially performed a whole set. Some were your own songs, others classics and some of Alastor’s personal favorites. The mood is light even Alastor seems in a much better mood.

“Thank you very much, dearie, phenomenal show,” he praised as a wave of claps are heard throughout the room. You get up to give a deeper bow much like you often do for your public performances.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week,” you joked, “I’m only a call away.”

Alastor chuckled standing up from his chair, finally, gathering all of his work, “You must be tired by now, how about we both retire, hm?” his hand cupping your lower back gently and guiding the both of you to the door. “Wouldn’t want to strain you, now would we,” he stated more than asked opening the for you.

Yawning you nodded, “It’s getting quite late. I think we both got carried away,” He agreed with a silent nod.

“I’ll take you to your quarters, it’ll be quicker,” hooking your arm under his, the shadows beneath his feet wiggle and curl around you, “Hold on tight, darling.”

You didn’t need to be told twice knowing exactly what he’s doing. You pressed further into his side tightening your grip on his arm. The darkness swallowed and you felt like the ground beneath you became quick sand sinking deeper and deeper into the void, it’s uncomfortable, a little claustrophobic. Fortunately it didn’t have to last very long, you could never get use to his teleportation method.

Delivering you right in front of your door, he lets you hold him until your legs are steady again. “Here we are!” he cheered, before letting you go he brings your hand delicately to his lips, “Good night, my songbird,” pressing a small kiss to your knuckles.

You smile up at him tiredly, “You as well, Sir.”

With that he’s disappearing off again, yet you never feel like he ever truly leaves. At least, figuratively. Somehow you always feel his presence lingering over you, in a good way.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

—

࿐ dividers © cafekitsune ✧

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x y/n

[ofbreathandflame]

The Paradoxical Nature of Feyre

It’s interesting to consider just how much of Feyre’s character must overcompensate for Rhysand’s shortcomings as a character. I’ve always wondered at the impossibility of the morality involved in the characterization of feyre; in which, Feyre exists – as @feyres-divorce-lawyer has already elaborated on this this post – in this violent conundrum in which is operates as both the most qualified, but is oftentimes then characterized as the most inept to help.

To elaborate – Feyre’s character has to subsume an almost reverential when she is discussed in thorough conversations that question to her motivations, tactility, and efficiency. And because Feyre is never actually given qualities (or I should say – those qualities are never at the forefront when discussing why she is placed in these hierarchal / leadership positions) that prove she deserves to be a leader there’s no actual, tangible evidence to prove that Feyre is inherently qualified for any of these roles. When Helion asks Rhysand – “why did you make her High Lady” the story does not lean onto to any tangible reasons as to why we the reader should believe this other than ‘Rhys loved Feyre’

Here enters the actual problem with Feyre’s character: her being High Lady is a statement of Rhys goodness, not a statement on Feyre’s prowess. Because the story leans on such individualistic, arbitrary ideals, there’s nothing being said about Feyre as a character. So much of these conversations centers around Feyre being qualified but there’s nothing in the story that suggests otherwise. Feyre being reckless and brave prove that she is….reckless and brave – both those qualities don’t really make a good leader and they prove…nothing about Feyre’s skills. Realistically, of course Feyre knows close to nothing – of course she’s going to make very bad decisions and mistakes, of course her per view is limited. So much is put into proving that Feyre is the best that there’s often no conversation about how rigid that makes Feyre as a character.

Those are flaws that make Feyre a better character. One of my favorite moments when reading A Storm of Swords was the moment Davos realizes he needs to be able to read because ‘he’s a lord now.’ I love how he reflects on how hard the process is and how the children seem to read so easily and he has to sit down and sound out the words. Davos is such a good character because he represents the kind of struggles someone – lowborn, smuggler, illiterate, might have when integrating themselves into a new hierarchal world. But this also says something about him as a character – he chooses to begin the journey to learn how to read because he’s realized he needs tools in order to combat is inexperience. Even the fact that it’s not Feyre who realizes she needs to learn how to read but Rhys who forces her says so much about her character, negatively.  

So when we have these conversations about Feyre, no one ever actually proves what makes Feyre qualified to lead. Begrudgingly feeding your family because you feel obligated doesn’t prove that you can lead an entire town; it proves perhaps resilience, perhaps resourcefulness but even then id argue Feyre isn’t even that (see: she seems to not learned any other skills other than hunting, complains about her shoes instead of just mending her own or switching with Nesta or Elain; she can’t cook, etcs). Rhysand making Feyre High Lady because he loves her says nothing about her as a character. It doesn’t expound her talents and skills – and ultimately doesn’t make anyone believe the title is tangible. Even the story doesn’t believe that to be true.  Nothing about Feyre’s trials UTM prove that she is capable leader – if anything they prove the opposite (I do not mean this negatively – if anything, I’ve always felt that Nesta’s arc with the Valkyries fit Feyre much more than her own arc did. I could see Feyre being someone who operates under her own set of rules. I’ve always felt that Feyre seems to chafe under rules , so it doesn’t make sense that she would bound herself to such a leadership role as High Lady).

Back to the main point – the whole I’m making is that I believe that Feyre is talked about this way because so much of her character has to be muted to connect with Rhys. I think this conversation is always a consequence of Rhyland’s characterization and the novel's (and stans) rush to defend him. So many things have to be true about Feyre in order for her romance to Rhysand to be believable - and I argue that those changes are to the detriment of the traits Feyre's is initially characterized as having. And because Rhysand never has to undergo an actual character arc the pressure is placed on Feyre's character to align with the more negative traits Rhys possesses. Realistically, given how Feyre is characterized and given the whole “I hate the preening, gawking Spring Court” – I think its weird that she would immediately (1) do the exact thing in basically nothing with Rhys (2) allow herself to be turned into the most traumatic version of herself and (3) delight in random people’s pain. But because the story never asks Feyre to introspect she simply doesn’t talk about it.  And even if the story wants to go there – so much of Feyre’s healing hinges on affirming that she is good and so introducing these bad, carnal, selfish thoughts into the mix seem to undermine that.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti acosf #anti sjm: feyre a #anti sjm: feyre archeron #anfi acomaf #anti acomaf #anti acowar

[phanchester]

VAMPIRE MOON

Just as it was written by @amazingphil with no additional edits

Chapter 1: Lunar Fusion

The moon hung low in the sky, its eerie glow casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of Sunnydale. Oz had finished his show at the Bronze and rather than going back to his dorm he found himself prowling the alleys, his senses heightened by the full moon’s pull. It wasn’t fully out yet but he could feel the primal draw of the wolf within. He could feel the beast within him stirring, yearning to be unleashed. But there was something else tonight, something that set his instincts on edge.

Spike.

The vampire had always been a wild card, unpredictable and dangerous. But there was a magnetism between them, a primal attraction that Oz couldn’t deny. And tonight, under the watchful eye of the moon, that attraction would lead them down a path neither could hve foreseen. 

Oz found him lurking in the shadows, his eyes gleaming with hunger. There was a hunger in those eyes that mirrored Oz’s own, a hunger for power and control.

Without a word, Oz moved closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Spike,” Oz breathed, his voice low and husky with desire. “What are you doing here?”

Spike smirked, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Just out for a stroll, love. Fancy some company?”

Oz hesitated for a moment, the beast within him urging him to run. He knew Spike could kill him instantly without setting off the government chip nestled in his brain, but there was something about Spike, somethin that drew him in despite the danger. 

With a nod, he stepped closer, his pulse quickening with anticipation

“Sure,” Oz said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why not?”

They entered a graveyard and Spike started to point to graves of nobles he had killed over 100 years ago.

“That one owed me bloody money”

“He tasted delicious”

“He was hot and also tasted delicious”

Oz couldn’t help but notice Spike was only pointing out the graves of guys he’d killed but this talk of another guy being hot awakened something he had himself too. Oz’d experimented with a few guys but it had been a while since he’d felt that draw, was it the moon, was it Spike’s charisma? Was it both? Something was pulling him towards the 150 year old vampire.

They reached a clearing and the moon got even higher in the sky

“Getting a bit prickly hamster boy?” Spike grinned.

“I have an hour or so left” Oz repleid.

“Shame to ruin those jeans when you rip out of them”

As they turned towards the mauseleoum, Spike shoved Oz hard into the wall and started kissing him. Oz was startled but kissed back but it wasn’t his human side in charge - he had started to change. And with that, as if called by the moon Oz’s transformation into his wolf form had begun

Before he got too hairy, Spike lunged forward, his fangs sinking deep into Oz’s neck. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure as Oz felt himself being consumed by the darkness. 

But as Spike drank the band members blood, something unexpected happened. Oz felt his body contort and twist, his bones shifting and reshaping themselves into something new and terrible. When Spike finally pulled away, Oz was no longer just a werewolf - he was something more. 

He was a VAMPIRE WOLF, something new, something exciting..

His fur was now a dark shade of midnight black, sleek and shimmering in the moonlight. His eyes shone a fiery gold. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, brighter than the moon. And his fangs were longer and sharper than ever before, gleeming with a deadly beauty. 

“What… what have you done to me?” Oz gasped, his voice a mix of fear and wonder. 

Spike grinned, his eyes burning with triumph. 

“I’ve given you what you’ve always wanted, mate. Power. Strength. Immortality…I guess with a furry twist”

Oz howled up to the full moon as his eyes turned crimson red. This new form of evil was consuming him. His still bare back started to split and deep crimson wings sprouted from between his shoulder blades.

“Oh bloody hell what is that” Spike shreiked as Oz’s new wings started to flap

And as the moon shone down upon them, casting it’s eerie light over their twisted forms, Spike and Oz embraced their new existence, bound together by the primal forces that had brought them together.

Before they could share another moment…

Oz took flight.

#this is soooo fanfiction #dan and phil #phan #phil lester #amazingphil #buffy the vampire slayer #spike x oz

[writingforstraykids]

hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him. 

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside. 

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

-

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies. 

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly. 

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly. 

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously. 

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits. 

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.” 

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly. 

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment. 

-

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have. 

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly. 

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room. 

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile. 

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

-

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious? 

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now. 

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course. 

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading. 

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you. 

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle. 

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly. 

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly. 

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you. 

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly. 

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning. 

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you. 

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries. 

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question. 

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho. 

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly. 

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. 

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins. 

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan. 

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head. 

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you. 

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him. 

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink. 

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused. 

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening. 

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair. 

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little. 

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder. 

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard. 

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan. 

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge. 

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

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#stray kids #skz #chan #bang chan #chan fic #chan fluff #chan smut #chan x male reader #chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan fic #bang chan x m!reader #bang chan x male reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz smut #skz x male reader #skz x reader #friends to lovers #chan angst #bang chan angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #male reader #x male reader

[missmugiwara]

That Was Nothing

Summary: gn!reader x Gojo // Satoru wants a kiss. Won't you give him one? Oh, pretty please? He's been soooo good.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, smutty, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), flirting, sexual tension, friends to lovers, sweetheart as a pet name

Note: Once again, the love of my life is insufferable. AND I ONLY WANT HIM MORE.

✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦

"Come on. Just one."

It would be a lie.

A complete and utter lie to say you weren't dumbstruck.

Swiftly, you whipped your head around so fast to face Satoru Gojo it was almost dizzying. The perfect set of lips upon your face parted, breath hitched in your chest, and then you remembered - breathe. Remember to breathe. A heat erupted against your cheeks, and you could only stare with dilated eyes at the sorcerer before you.

Gojo tilted his head to the side innocently and let out a small snicker. He continued on.

"Just one kiss!"

The pleasant smile on Gojo's face was soooo adorable which only made this all the more embarrassing.

He just wanted a kiss.

His words replayed in your head so tantalizingly. Immediately, your eyes bolted to his own set of plump lips - immaculately pink and heaven-sent themselves. Somehow, those lips always seemed to be shining. And they always looked so soft.

So good.

So yummy.

It didn't ever matter what Gojo was doing. He literally looked perfect all the time without even trying. It always stunned you. But come on, you were much stronger than this - or at least you hoped, especially when realization hit that you had been staring for too long now. So in a fluster, your eyes darted from his plump lips to his blindfolded eyes.

"Satoru… come on! Really! You can't do this to me right now!"

If one thing was for certain, it was that Satoru Gojo loved to tease - and loved to tease you more than anyone. It went without saying the man was an expert at it. You were seated at your desk, scrawling away at some paperwork when Gojo nonchalantly waltzed right into the classroom. In a rather proud manner, he strode right over and took a seat on top of the desk. He flashed a cheeky smile (and perhaps a hungry gaze as well, but the blindfold made that difficult to determine). The way Gojo sat with such hubris, towering above you, was as if to make one thing apparent.

You were in for it.

And Gojo never let you go without a good fight. Plus, he was too clever and too fast. Always one step ahead.

For a moment, he stilled to study your frustrated state. He hummed in thought, tapping an index finger to his pink lips before a smirk upturned the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I see!" he cooed, crossing one leg over the other, "You were looking right at my lips weren't you, sweetheart? I just meant a kiss on the cheek! You're so... bad."

Your cheeks went hot.

Why did Gojo have to talk like that? With the sexy lilt? The slight growl? His voice alone could make you a fumbling mess especially with the way he drawled out bad in such a tone. Gojo was practically the definition of alluring. He was that and so much more. He made flirting look way too effortless, and it amazed you how easily he could seduce you. Did Gojo know how easy it was? He surely must have. In this moment, you had never wanted to slink down your chair so badly in a fit of swooning (and maybe out of pure humiliation as well). How could you let Gojo catch you staring at those pretty lips of his?

It was no fair!

"I wonder," he tilted his head to the side, "how many times have you done that before?"

He was just so damn full of himself.

You gasped. Playfully, you slapped Gojo's arm with a wide smile etched across your face. So much for trying to look mad. Honestly, it was hard to. If you slipped up even for a second it would only fuel his ego further, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed long ago. It didn't help either when he snickered as soon as he registered your smile. He only grinned further, proudly sitting upright again.

"You are such a flirt, Satoru! Stop teasing me!"

"I can't! You're just too cute!" he purred before pausing in thought again, "Now - I found your car keys so don't I deserve a little reward?"

He revealed your car keys, proudly swirling the keyring around his index finger to tease you more.

"A reward? For stealing my keys?" You grinned haphazardly, stepping up from your seat.

In a futile attempt, you reached out to snatch them back. Quickly, Gojo enclosed his hand around the keys and uncrossed his legs to get the momentum he needed in order to lean back. In fact, it was so far back that you both misjudged the spacing between your bodies. Gojo chuckled when you whined at him to stop moving. You slapped your hand on the desk next to his thigh, sliding it past as you tried so desperately to gain balance. It was to no avail because you only leaned further when he pulled farther away.

You both froze.

A heat rose to your cheeks, and a dangerous smirk grew on Gojo's lips. You were perched right between his spread thighs, and he was nearly on his back if not for one hand holding him upright at an angle. If either of you had moved a tiny bit further, you most definitely would have slipped and landed headfirst onto him. The position was already suggestive enough, and the way your groins pressed together reminded you of the close proximity to this beauty of a man.

Gojo's voice was low and breathy, his smug tone so quiet in the air.

"Is this part of my reward?"

Smoothly, ever so smoothly, Gojo did the smallest roll of his hips against yours. Your breath caught in your chest at the heated pressure applied against your lower half. A fire spread throughout your body. His lips were so close you could almost taste his smirk. Immediately, when his hot breath fanned across your mouth again, you practically flung yourself against the nearest wall. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes bugged wide, and Gojo laughed wildly because your expression was beyond what he expected at this point.

"It's - it's not!"

Gojo then cackled, giving the keyring another taunting swirl around his finger as he sat up straight again.

How did this all happen?

Well, as usual you rushed into a staff meeting late and flung your belongings down without thought. So of course, for the umpteenth time, you threw a fit when you realized you could not find the damn car keys after the meeting ended. All because you weren't paying attention!

It never helped that Gojo was such an ass. Of course, he was always the one to find where they landed. And of course, he picked them up and clung to them like his life depended on it.

Usually.

Today he tried something a little different.

It was a whole ordeal. As soon as you walked into the room, Gojo flew up from his seat and glided over - exclaiming the meeting could not start until he got a hug from his most intelligent, wonderful, loving friend in the whole world. This overly affectionate display caught you and everyone by surprise. What an unneccessary interruption. A bit weird too, as quirky as he was. You carefully eyed Gojo because it all seemed a tad suspicious. More importantly, what did he want from you (because clearly there was some sort of ulterior motive from the compliments)? So based on everybody staring and you being blatantly late, you decided to just give him his hug and get the meeting on track. Just get it over with. No more embarrassment in front of colleagues, please. Without a care in the world, your arms wrapped around Gojo for his hug.

And then he snuck his hand right into your coat pocket to snatch your keys.

When he revealed them only a moment ago, that's when you knew this was another one of his little games. This time, the game being how to get a kiss from his most intelligent, wonderful, and loving friend in the whole world. God, he was lucky you were so… loving because loving people forgive their asshole friends, right?

"Then can I still get a kiss?"

Of course he said that next. In response to Gojo's question you pouted, giving a small grumble as the answer - no. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. It would never.

"Please? Just a little kiss. Riiiight here." he tapped his cheek, a smug smirk at his lips.

You irked an eyebrow at him.

"After that little stunt?"

"Oh, please, please!" he cried out so facetiously, dropping to his knees and hobbling over to you. Your eyes widened in shock, not expecting such dramatic behavior from the sorceror.

His hands grabbed your hips. He gave them a small shake whilst adorning an overly obvious smile. He could have nearly made you fall, but his playful gestures made you realize this was all just an over-the-top act. An attempt to butter you up by getting you to laugh. So you crossed your arms and boredly looked down at Gojo, fighting the urge to laugh. Gojo now had his arms flung around your waist, his chin pressed into your abdomen as he cutely gazed up at you in this hug.

A second more to think, and a teeny tiny smirk graced your features. Two could play at this game.

"Hm… the mighty Satoru Gojo on his knees?" you giggled, "Mmmm, I think I like that."

"Oh, you like it when I beg, huh?"

If only you had more time to think of a witty response. Shoot, he was damn good.

"…Maybe."

"Keep this up and that's not the only thing I can do that you'd like, sweetheart. Maybe later we'll switch places if you ask nicely."

Your jaw immediately dropped. As usual, Gojo got in the last word, and you had no idea how he kept winning.

"Satoru!"

"You know, I kind of like it when you're a brat."

"Oh, gah - please! At least you're having fun."

"You are too, sweetheart."

His smile never faltered, not even for a second, and his arms were still wrapped around your waist. An obvious pout was at your lips because he was right again. Gojo was flirty and fun, and you were enjoying this. A moment passed as you two just wordlessly stayed in place: a competition seeing who would break first.

Of course, you were the one to break first because you threw your head back and laughed. After all, Gojo was always pulling shit like this, and you always tried to pay him back in kind. He asked for kisses countless times. One thing you could not grasp was why did it catch you off guard every time? Why did it always feel like the first time he ever asked?

You also had to admit you loved indulging Gojo and giving in to his oddly charming ways. After all, he was an old friend. One of the closest friends you ever had especially when you both started off as sorcerers long ago. Oh, the stories you could tell about this man flirting with you. So what was a small kiss on the cheek between two old friends?

Unless.

You kept it up because you so badly desired to be more than friends. But what about him? And he kept asking for a kiss - so what did that mean from him? If only you could think straight. At least for the time being, you could indulge him and yourself. It was a harmless kiss on the cheek after all.

"Fine. But just this once!"

"That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before -"

"I could just leave! I'll walk home! Do you want it or not?"

"Ooooh yes, please! Very badly!"

"Then get your ass on my desk."

"Didn't know you were into that. Be gentle with me! Oh, should I bend over?"

"Just sit on it!"

As if your face couldn't burn any hotter than it already did. Gojo always made you break the record every time. It was surprising enough that you assumed it could never happen again.

He instantly jumped up (a bit too eagerly) and took a seat back on the desk. This was the easiest way because he was so damn tall. He hummed in response to your smirk, giving a cute little dance of his shoulders. Quite adorably, he leaned his cheek in for you to get a better reach - for him to finally claim his prize. A prize he won so many times. So you brushed your fingers very slowly and very sensuously along his jaw, gently cupping his face in your hand.

"Oh, you are making my heart race right now!"

Another gasp followed by a bashful grin, and you pulled away just as your lips were to touch his cheek.

"Stop it, you're embarrassing me!"

"Ugh, I love it when you whine! Does things to me!"

"Oh my god, Satoru! I am going home!" You released his face from your hands, about to storm off when the sorcerer grinned again.

Gojo firmly caught your wrist midwalk and effortlessly pulled you back toward him. You nearly tripped, forgetting how strong he was. When you were situated and facing him once again, you did a soft tug of your arm as a signal for the provocative man to let go. Gojo only pouted and pulled you again, but harder this time. And this time, you did end up tumbling into him as he caught you - staring at him angrily before you both broke out into laughter.

"Alright, alright! I'll be good!"

Gojo being good? Yeah, right. Could you really trust him to keep his word? You squinted your eyes at that, only to be met with Gojo beaming confidently which was your weakness.

So you let out a quick sigh before stroking the side of his face once more. You puckered your lips, slowly leaning in when -

Gojo turned his head quickly.

So so sooo very quickly.

In doing so, his lips touched yours in the most innocent of kisses. Just a small peck. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was so fast, and it stunned you nonetheless. A tiny smack noise from your lips meeting and parting echoed in your brain on replay. There was a delayed reaction on your part, save for your face heating up, because you stood there completely frozen as he adorned the biggest shit-eating grin.

All a part of Gojo's plan.

"Satoru!" you breathed, fighting an ever-so-obvious grin, "You… you naughty thing!"

Satoru Gojo was bold. It was always just a kiss on the cheek! He had never done that before. He cackled in response, twirling the keyring around his finger once more. Oh yes, and he still had not given those keys back.

"Naughty? That was nothing! Oh, we could get much naughtier next time. Prefer some tongue?"

Oh my god, was he serious?

The way you just stood in stupefied silence made him prattle on.

"No need to be shy now!"

Just when you thought he was done, he always went the extra mile. When he chuckled at your flustered expression and lack of response, he lowered his tone.

"Prefer something a little more than just kissing?"

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fanfiction #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #mugi writes

[pearlparty]

Distraction

Note to self: never ask for a spot ever again.  Just die like a woman when you drop the bar. 

Pairing: Austin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: Austin teases you at the gym and you get distracted from your workout.

Warnings: Language, innuendo, flirting, established relationship

Word Count: 2075 ish

Note: Breaking another impromptu indefinite hiatus to post lol. Based on this post/reblog to cure writer’s block. Lol I wrote this in like a day and a half and in an airport so take that for what you will. I just really like men sweating and grunting I’m sorry. Feedback is a writer��s life blood, so please tell me what sucks about this so I can improve!!

Austin had always gone to the gym with you. You’d go together, but usually stayed in your own lanes doing your own workouts, and then leave together.  The routine allowed some space to breathe and work individually—do things separately together. It happened organically for one reason: different desired routines. And that’s how it stayed for weeks, leaving each of you satisfied at the end of the hour and a half.

Today provided another reason for why separate workout routines proved more effective than working together. 

You’d walked in with the intention of setting a personal record on the squat rack.  You’d been working your way up for weeks.  Maybe you truly felt prepared to lift it, or perhaps it was the extra zing that the pre-workout put in your step, but either way you stepped up to the rack prepared to put your legs to the test.  The cute dark blue crop and legging combo probably gave you an extra boost, too. It did make your ass look good, after all, and that little “I’m sexy and I know it” boost worked like magic for motivation. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t see the way Austin’s eyes lingered a little too long when you put your jacket and bag into the locker. Maybe if you’d seen his eyes darken, you’d have caught onto his little game instead of being taken by surprise. 

Still, before you parted ways at the locker, you couldn’t help but admire the curves of his bare shoulders beneath his muscle tee. Such fond memories of those shoulders and the weights they occasionally carried: your niece when you went to the park weeks ago, the heavy cement bag for your parents’ backyard, your thighs—

You shook the thought from your head, and moved to the track to warm up. You’d moved closer to the weight section to do some warm up Bulgarian Split Squats when Austin called you over to his spot at one of the benches. 

“Babe,” he called out, “can I get a spot real quick?” The question fazed you a moment; he rarely asked for a spot, but you supposed that the empty gym deprived him of many other options. 

“Yeah,” you chirped as you rose from the mat. “Yeah, sure.” 

Austin positioned himself on the bench and prepped for his heavy set. You couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, the determination etched on his face as he focused on the task at hand. The veins in his hands and forearms seemed to pulse as he gripped the bar, and a small part of you wished they were wrapped around your neck—

"Ready, babe?" His voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly positioned herself at the end of the bench, ready to spot him. You cleared your throat. 

"Ready," you replied as you braced yourself for the weight that was about to come crashing down. He grinned but didn’t say anything. 

As Austin began his set, your eyes were drawn to the flex of his muscles, the strain evident in every movement. You couldn't tear your gaze away, mesmerized by the raw power and intensity he exuded with each repetition.

With each huff and grunt that escaped Austin’s lips, you felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You tried to focus on the task at hand, on keeping him safe as he pushed himself to his limits, but you couldn't shake the feeling of arousal that pulsed through your veins.

As Austin finished his set and racked the bar, he flashed you a grin, his chest heaving with exertion. He rose from the bench breathing heavy, sweat dotting his brow. 

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured with a breath, voice low and husky as he gently pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, mind filled with images of his sweaty body entwined in passion with yours. You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to consume your mind you helped Austin re-rack the weights.

"Anytime," you replied, voice barely convincing nonchalance as you tried to quell the desire that burned within your chest—a desire slowly spreading throughout your extremities and to your lower belly. "Anytime." 

Walking back to your mat, your mind swirled with overwhelming amounts of filthy thoughts, and the reps got increasingly hard to count (which ended up being fine because working to failure is good for growth, but still). Those damn grunts? Every huff and breath of exertion? The small whimper that escaped his lips when he struggled momentarily to get the bar up on the last rep? All played on a continuous, horny loop in your head as you spent the next few minutes finishing the exercises before your squats. 

His damn blue muscle tee, his damn cap that couldn’t cover his pretty curls at the back of his head, his damn gray joggers, his damn water dripping down his chin as he chugged from his water bottle after a couple of sets on the lat pulldown machine that made his damn muscles flex and sweat collect on his damn collarbones. Damn him damn him damn him.  

A trip the the gym had supposed to clear your mind, not fill it with insufferable horny thoughts. How were you supposed to focus on the movements properly when he walked around looking like that?

And now you needed him to spot you during your squats. Lovely.

His gaze wandered to you in the mirror as he took another gulp of water. You waved him over.

He adjusted his earbuds and wiped his chin with the collar of his shirt as he approached you. “Hey, gorgeous. Need a spot?” Was his voice always so deep? I must be ovulating because this is not normal.  

“If you’re not busy? I wanna beat my record from a couple weeks ago,” you answered. 

“New PR, baby!” he whooped, clapping his hands together once to try to hype you up.  He likely mistook your distraction for nerves. Hell, you wished it was, not an aching need that pulled your attention away from your workout.

A nervous laugh left your chest, suddenly rather timid at the prospect of him being so close while you were trying to lift something seriously heavy.  You turned to face the mirror behind the rack—turn away from him directly but still see him behind you in the reflection.  Had you seriously never appreciated how he dwarfed you before?

Okay, enough, focus on the damn lift you horny simpleton, the sane part of your mind berated.  You pushed the thoughts aside and stepped under the bar.

“Ready?”  you tossed over your shoulder to him as he stood a few feet back.  

“You got this,” he affirmed.  You took a breath and lifted the bar off the rack and stepped back.  Austin put a close but reasonable distance between the two of you and looped his arms under yours, prepared to pull you back if you were to fall forward.  

Another breath, and then you went down.  Austin followed your movements and you let out a puff of air as you tried to push yourself back to the top.  

“C’mon, you got it,” he gently coaxed from behind you.  It wasn’t the typical motivating voice he used in the gym.  No, it was much softer, teetering on the edge of something—well, you weren’t sure you wanted to find out or you’d surely drop the bar and hurt both you and him.  If you hadn’t been balancing over 200lbs on your shoulders, you might have shot him a wide eyed look.  You came to the top of the position.  “Alright, that’s one.  Just seven more.”  His voice seemed to have some extra smoke in it today.  

A flush of warmth spread through your torso, tingling in your extremities that had no connection to the exertion of the second rep. His words lit a fire, spurring you on as you sank into the third. 

“Doin’ so good,” Austin murmured, his hot breath fanning down your neck. “Just like that.” 

Fuck off fuck off fuck off you hot bastard. He was doing it on purpose. Whether it was to get a rise out of you or provide some extra motivation, you didn’t know.

Down.  Up. Four. Focus. Five.

“You’re killing it. Just focus on that form.” You could have sworn his hand brushed the side of your waist. 

Six. A breath. Seven. The burn in your quads nearly made you question whether you could do another rep. You hissed out a sharp breath and braced yourself, legs wavering at the top of the rep for only a second. 

“Nearly there,” Austin continued, the same salacious insinuation lining his words. “Can ya gimme one more, baby?” 

A thrill shot down your spine, and your breath caught in your throat.  Damn him.

You finished the set, legs trembling slightly as you stepped back to re-rack the bar with a huff. You set your hands on your hips to suck in a well deserved breath. A stupid smile graced your lips as you realized that you’d accomplished your goal despite Austin’s distracting encouragement.  The burn in your legs slowly turned to a sweet jelly-like sensation. 

Austin approached the rack, going around to meet you toward the front, a smirk lining his perfect lips. “Feeling good?”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his double-entendre. “Yeah,” you snorted, as you stepped around to meet him. “Feelin’ grea—“ You stumbled, the jelly in your legs making your knees fold momentarily. 

Right into his strong arms. 

“Woah, now,” he chuckled, pulling you back up with his hands firmly on your back and ribs. “Careful there, Bambi.” That time, you did roll your eyes with a laugh as you steadied yourself once more, but not pulling away from him yet. “Don't hurt yourself.” 

“Oh please,” you flicked the brim of his hat, “I’m canceling my membership; you are too damn distracting.” You giggled as you pushed him away to walk to the equipment spray, throwing a little extra sway in your hips as you strutted away. The jig was up; no sense in trying to focus on something when it would all be for naught. You wanted to play this out. 

“Is that right?” He cocked an eyebrow, that permanent smirk etched onto his face. “So you didn’t like my extra motivation, hm?” He gripped the brim of his cap and flipped it around, giving you a more than adequate view of his triceps and biceps as he pressed it down in the back. You sucked in a breath. He knew how much you liked it when he put his hat on backwards.

“I blame the endorphins. I’m taking my business elsewhere so I can actually focus,” you quipped. You stepped to the rack, deliberately putting it between you and him as you sprayed down the bar.

“Hm. That’s fair, I guess.” He moved in closer, placing his hands on either side of the rack and leaning over the bar, his voice low and suggestive, “Guess we’ll just have to find other ways to work out together then.”

You cocked an eyebrow, allowing yourself a moment to shamelessly look him up and down as the tip of your tongue wet your bottom lip before you pulled it between your teeth. Your delicate fingers curled around the bar as you rested your chin on it. The smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne and nearly made your knees weak again. You tapped your right toe behind your left heel, enjoying his proximity and the innuendo in the air.

You hummed as the tension crackled between the two of you. “Whatayasay we cut this strength session short and go home for some cardio?”

His eyebrows raised and he chewed the inside of his cheek, glancing dangerously down to your lips. A low hum resonated in his chest. “I like the sound of that.” 

He shortened the distance between you, tantalizing movements to tempt you closer to his lips. And then, “Meet ya by the treadmills, baby,” he teased with a wink and then pulled away. 

—

And that’s how you figured out that if you worked out with Austin, you’d end up horny and skip the workout for another sweaty activity.

tag: @mrsniallhoran505

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #masters of the air #elvis film #mota #gale cleven #Austin x reader #austinbutler #austin fic #austin butler fic #austin butler x you #bikeriders #dune part 2 #Is it wrong to tag movies he’s in even if this isn’t about those? Lol #Idc he’s hot #I’ve fallen into the gym guy rabbit hole and I’m making it everyone’s problem

[mikkomacko]

i’m loving the him and i series so much!! and i keep thinking about her first finding out about the devils and what the reaction would be (obviously happy in the end ik) would love maybe a blurb of that or just your thoughts on it :)

“When are you going to tell me what you actually do?”

He’s caught off guard by the question, you can tell by the way he looks up from the sink, his eyes like a deer in headlights when they meet yours through the bathroom mirror.

“What do you mean?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, foam dripping down his fingers.

You shrug, leaning against the doorway. “I know you own The Rock, but there’s no way a bar owner lives like this.” You motion to the elegant bathroom, the mirror with different lighting settings, the claw foot bathtub, the double shower. No one in Jersey just lives like this.

He spits into the sink, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s uh, it’s a popular bar.”

The excuse is lame. You know it, he knows it. Maybe you should be concerned, cautious about him. But you spent a couple months with him now and he’s given you no reason to ever be worried or anxious. Not when you’re with him and not toward him.

“Just…” you hesitate, watching him rinse off his toothbrush and place it in the holder. He won’t meet your eyes, instead busying himself with cleaning up the marble counter. “You don’t do anything illegal right? Like you’re not a drug dealer?”

That makes him stop, immediately turning to look at you with those doe eyes of his. Your heart jumps into your throat, mouth going dry.

“You sell drugs?!”

“No, no, no!” Nico rushes out, waving his hands. “I don’t sell drugs. I don’t take drugs. Do you take drugs?”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “No I don’t do drugs! Do you think I’d be put-off by a potential drug dealer if I did drugs?”

Nico shrugs, raking his hands through his hair. You watch the movement of his arm, the way his chest shifts against the tight wife-beater he’s wearing. A hint of the chain he always has on pokes through, the outline reminding you of the ones you see on all his friends.

“My friends said you’re in a gang,” you tell him.

“What do you think?”

You stand up straight, tilting your head to the side as you examine him. “They’re wrong,” you say matter-of-fact. “A gang leader doesn’t just own a business. They like push drugs on Coney Island and hang out with teenagers.

“You guys are like…like a family.”

Nico bites at his lip, smiling a bit at that. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.”

He nods towards his bedroom, and you move to sit on the edge of his bed. Nico follows, sighing heavily as he sinks to kneel in front of you.

“We are a family,” he tells you, taking your hands in his. “Me and Timo and the boys. We’re a family, just in a different way.”

Confused, you shake your head. “I don’t get it.”

Nervous, he licks his lips and lets out a breathy laugh. “We’re a family like in a God Father way, a”

“A mafia?!” You cut-off. “Like Italian mafia?”

“No, no, it’s like the mob. Different than the mafia and not Italian at all. Most of us are Swiss, Jesper you know is Swedish. And locals. American, Canadian, yeah.”

You’re quiet for a moment, head spinning with thoughts. It makes sense, the bar and the money and his apartment. The coded talk between him and his friends, the way they call him boss-

“Wait, you’re the boss?” You ask, “You’re in charge of them all.”

Sheepishly he nods, like he’s worried you’re gonna tell him they impolite or act up. But he’s proud, you can tell by the glimmer in his dark eyes. It’s like that cocky twinkle he usually has but softer, more personal.

“Should I be scared of you?” You whisper, afraid he’ll say yes, that he’ll give you a reason to run.

“Never,” Nico assures instantly. “You never have to be scared of me or the boys. You’re, you mean too much to me. If anything, Jersey should be scared of you.”

“What, why?”

He clears his throat, looking down at your hands as he squeezes them. “Because if anyone so much as said your name in the wrong way, they’ll be dealing with us.”

It sends shivers down your spine, warms your chest. He sounds so certain, so confident in the abilities of himself and the boys. Flattered, you lightly giggle and pry a hand out of his to stroke through his hair.

You find the gold chain on his neck, rest your palm over his chest. “Devils?” You ask, “is that why you all wear the horns?”

Proud and impressed, he nods. “Smart girl,” he murmurs sweetly. “Technically the Devils, but the others call us the Devs.”

“There’s more of you?”

He nods, placing his hand over yours. “Yeah a few. Biggest concerns are our closest guys in New York.”

You’re confused again, not really understanding how this works with different gangs - mob’s around. It makes your head hurt, a sharp pain right behind your left eye.

“I - I think I need to think about this Nico,” you murmur “not tonight. It’s too much tonight. I just needed to know that you’re not a drug dealer.”

He kisses your knuckles, rising to his feet as he nods. “Yeah yeah, whatever you want to know I’ll tell you.”

“Ok.”

“You still staying the night or should I drive you home?”

Scoffing, you shove at him and then flop back into the plush mattress. “Obviously I’m staying. Nothing beats this bed.”

Standing over you, he chuckles. You press your foot into his hip and he wraps those thick fingers around your ankle.

“You’re welcome to leave though.” You tease.

Releasing you, he jumps onto the bed next to you. Snuggling into his pillow, he smiles contently. “I don’t think so little miss, this bed is all mine.”

You crawl up to the pillows, laying on your side to face him. “Well that half is,” You quip back, smiling innocently “boss.”

#him and i #him and i blurb #nico hischier #mob boss nico hischier #mob boss nico blurb #nico hischer x reader #requested

[call-me-copycat]

Love Knows No Bounds

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]

▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes

▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.

▶ Word Count: 4547

▶ Warnings:

This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset

Aizawa's not a creep, I promise

Implications of deaths of citizens

Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths

Mention of slight stalking

I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad

You were impossible to ignore.

Aizawa's first meeting with you wasn't exactly conventional. You were paddle boating around the recently melted lake, which was still cold enough to have small chunks of ice still floating around. The surrounding park was busy with people, all enjoying the evening weather right before the sun went down.

Aizawa was just trying to take a walk, he wasn't even on the clock. But when disaster calls, he has to be the one to always answer.

Something must've caught the bottom of your boat, because before you knew it you were engulfed in icy water. Your limbs locked up, and all the breath in your lungs immediately went out.

He was the first one into the lake, pulling you out and onto the grass where it was safe. Before you could grasp your bearings, he was already gone. You only caught a glimpse of the man that had rescued you.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed with you, seeing as he had to make his walk all the way home in soggy clothing with a chill digging into his bones.

But he didn't care. You were an empty face in a faceless crowd.

Until you appeared again.

The weather was still slightly chilly, but it didn't deter you as you set off for school. You walked down your normal path you'd take, only to see a large dog waiting for you at the end of the path. It was chained, but it was blocking the area - most likely waiting for its owner to come back. You didn't have time for that.

Ultimately, the best decision for you was to go around. To take a slight detour. You were never allowed to walk in strange areas, and you knew your parents would have a fit if you were found out.

Approaching the new area with caution, you sped your way through the neighborhood with ease as it wasn't too different from yours.

A glimpse was what caught you off guard.

Passing by an apartment complex, you initially didn't think much of it. You peeked into the parking lot, only to see the back head of a man getting into his car. He was placing something into the back seat, and you watched curiously as he shut the door and turned to get into the front.

Your eyes widened at the exact moment when you saw his face, remembering the blurry outline of the man that rescued you. Quickly, you calculated how much time you had left before school, eventually coming to a decision as you swiftly made your way over to him.

Your walk turned to a run as you watched him get into his car and turn his key. Your bag rapidly beat against your back as you heavily panted, ending up haphazardly behind his car just as he began to back up.

The car instantly halted with a screech, the back lights blaring as you stood frozen in place.

Aizawa heatedly opened the car door, scowling at the blatant disregard you had for your safety. Before you could react, he was already on you.

"Are you not watching where you're going? Do you not know what would've happened if I didn't react in time?" He snapped, not having much patience with random kids so early in the morning.

You stood there awkwardly as you fiddled with your school uniform, not realizing why you had wanted to reach out to him. Looking at the ground, you evaded his angry glare as you thought about what you had wanted to say to him.

Aizawa's expression softened as you avoided his eyes, realizing he was being a bit too harsh on you. He knew he needed to be stern, but he often got scolded by Mic And Midnight for being too harsh at times. Realizing his behavior, he steeled himself by taking a breath and kneeling down to your level.

"Look..." He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You just need to make sure you're aware of your surroundings, I don't want you getting hurt because of someone else's actions. "

Looking up at him with determination, you gripped the bottom of your shirt as you exclaimed, "You...! You're the one who helped me in the lake, right?"

His eyes widened for a second as he thought back to it, realizing that you were the kid he helped out at that moment. He never had someone remember him helping them out, often due to his hidden nature to keep his face out of public view. He would simply do his job and leave. If anything, it was to be expected to not get anything out of it.

Aizawa wasn't sure how you did it, but you somehow managed to find him and mustered up the confidence to thank him. He now saw you as who you were, a kid with a name and face instead of being one of the many blurs in the background.

Still at knee level, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I am," curious, he had to ask you, "Would you mind telling me how exactly you were able to find me here? "

You excitedly nodded your head with a smile as you recalled the issue with the dog and your regular path to school, and how even though your parents didn't like you taking new paths that you didn't have a choice, and to please not tell them or else you'd get in trouble -

Immediately, you remembered about school, and instantly realized that if you didn't hurry then you'd be late, Aizawa quickly catching on to your unease.

"I need to..." You started, beginning to walk away as you nervously pointed out towards the sidewalk from which you came.

"How long does it take you to get to school?" You only answered with a shrug, Aizawa sighing in response. He was caught in a rock and a hard place now.

On one hand, he could just leave you and drive to UA as normal, but deal with the guilt of being the cause of your tardiness. On the other hand, he could offer you a ride, but at the expense of getting in trouble and being seen as a creep. A young girl getting into a random man's car with no knowledge of who he was wasn't the brightest idea when it came to evading public attention. With his looks and mysterious reputation, he already got a few odd looks from passerbys as he spoke to you.

Who were you, and how were you already able to worm yourself into his life?

-

Helping a random kid get to school was definitely not on his itinerary for the day, yet here he was.

"Are you buckled?"

Nodding cheerfully, you hummed in acknowledgement, oblivious to the heavy dread that settled in Aizawa. He had given in as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, but he brushed it off as a one time thing. He'd only give in this once.

You weren't very good at giving directions, he realized. After too many U-turns and 'wait a minute!'s, he was ready to get out a map instead.

Finally, you arrived at your school with a few minutes to spare. You happily hopped out of the car, turning around and waving at him with a large smile on your face as you walked inside. After you disappeared from his sight, Aizawa meekly gave a little wave. It felt nice, in a way, helping out someone new.

Although, on the other side he was extremely irritated at your lack of awareness as you were ready to hitch a ride with what was a random stranger. He might have slightly scolded you on stranger danger on your way to school, but you didn't mind too much.

He thought that was that, and that he wouldn't see you again. But you were always there, ready to budge your way into his day once more.

The sun was setting, with only a few strands of light clinging onto the ground as Aizawa took a small walk to the convenience store. The air was cool, and the path was near empty as people began leaving before dark. Perfect for a night dweller such as him.

It was only when he saw a familiar figure that he stopped in his tracks.

You were wheeling a bicycle alongside you, wearing casual street clothes now. Why, he wondered, were you out at this time? Yes, it wasn't that late since the sun barely went down, but it was dark. Much too dark for a kid such as you to be out by herself.

"Oh! It's you again!" You greeted him before he could even fully see you, just as happy as you were before.

"It's late. Why are you out here?" His voice was stern, but still carried an undertone of carrying.

You laughed, already having realized that this man wasn't as scary as he seemed on the outside. You had quickly grew comfortable around him, despite how annoyed he seemed every time he saw you.

"My bike broke, so I'm walking," looking around, you noticed the early time, "besides, it's not too late, I've been out later than this."

His eye twitched. You were so comfortable, smiling and ignorant of any danger or threats that were possible. How you survived this long was well beyond him.

"Still-" Heaving another breath, he swallowed any objections and changed the subject, "What's wrong with your bike? "

You looked down at it, gently nudging it to the side and back, "I think the chain popped, though I could be wrong..."

Aizawa knew nothing about bikes. He only rode a few times as a kid and sometimes as a teen when he didn't have a ride. Still, he lowered himself to inspect your bike. Upon further examination, he did discover the chain, broken.

That night he escorted you home, carrying your bike for you since you were hauling it beside you 'too slowly'.

-

Aizawa nudged open his front door with his foot, convenient store bags in hand. Putting them down on his kitchen table, he took a moment and silently looked at the ground, wondering just why he was constantly fretting over you.

Perhaps it was because of how ignorant you were? Maybe it was just something he picked up when training to be a hero? He had no clue. He wasn't even a kid person, his own students were already pushing his patience a little thinner each day.

Every time he saw you, he got to know a little more about you. Each meeting gave him a puzzle piece, and a picture of who you were was slowly forming with each occurrence.

He began seeing you more often, whether it was due to random chance or by choice, he didn't care.

Waking beside you as you got off school while you told him all the things you learned, running into him at the grocery store and trying to convince him to get your favorite pudding, showing up at his doorstep with a small basket of berries you picked from the town garden...

Sooner than he would've cared for, Aizawa noticed that he began to like having you by his side. Your company was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs, your happy mood constantly keeping him from getting too sour.

It was new, and it was... Pleasant.

-

"Aizawaaa-San!"

Your voice greeted him just like every other time he met you, and he cracked a small smile upon hearing it.

Your were a bit of a distance away, but he stopped in place to allow you to run up to him. You somehow found him once again, taking a walk along the harbor where the boats were docked. It seemed like a game at this point, one you always seemed to win.

"Guess what?!"

Ever so excited, you seemed to be practically buzzing with enthusiasm.

He cocked an eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets as you strolled next to him, "What is it? Going somewhere, I suppose? "

Your laugh rang in his ears, a sound he couldn't get enough of. He was just happy that you were happy, after all.

"Yes! My parents and I are going to visit Tokyo!" You put your hands on your cheeks, gushing, "It's going to be so fun, the city always has the most to do!"

Ah, Tokyo. It was a nice city, but cities always seemed to bring trouble. As everyone knew, the more populated an area, the more villains littered the place. Suddenly, it seemed that the air of amusement deflated from him.

"Just... Be sure to be careful please. "

You took notice of his sudden mood change, confused as to why he wasn't happy about your trip.

"Of course I will! But..." You tilted your head a bit, "Are you okay? You don't seem very happy today"

Taking notice of your worry, Aizawa quickly put on a weak reassuring smile. Putting a hand on your head, he comforted you, "Don't worry about it, just promise to tell me all about your trip when you get back"

You looked up at him, eyes filled with confidence as you hummed in acknowledgement.

-

Why was he here? Has he actually lost his mind?

That's all that rolled through Aizawa's mind as he scrolled through train stations you'd be passing by. He just needed to be sure that the ride will be safe. He didn't need to go all the way to Tokyo, but just far enough so that he could reassure his frantic mind.

Yes, he understood how freaky he was being. But for some reason, you triggered some odd emotion deep in his brain that made it so he couldn't not worry about you. The world was rough and sharp, he's seen lots of villains that couldn't care less about tearing a small girl to shreds...

A shudder ran through his spine, and Aizawa quickly ejected the thought from his mind before he could go any more crazy.

-

The rain was uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. All Aizawa could do was circle around the nearby stations then let you truly go to explore further.

Without him.

It left an odd taste in his mouth.

The train passed by, rumbling the station and the people around it, and he watched as it rode further and further away . . . carrying you with it. Of course you'd come back, it was only a trip. But what would he do if you didn't? What if your parents decided to move to Tokyo? What if you got into an accident?

It was then that he realized how silent his life would be without you in it. You were the colors dotting his gray life.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to drive around to calm himself, his nerves making him more jumpy than he'd like.

The drive was unfortunately cut short.

He knew it. Aizawa knew something was bound to happen.

Of course a villain shows up. He had seen the call earlier that day, but at that time they were much farther away. He realized that whoever the heroes were chasing must've been fast.

He was also quite large.

A massive villain, made of rock was being propelled by what seemed like self-made wings was near-cornered by a good amount of heroes going after him. And when a villain gets trapped they tend to do one of two things: they either (1) Lose any sense of logic in their mind and make stupid last-minute decisions, or (2) Get extremely violent as they know their time is up and that they have nothing to lose.

This villain seemed to be leaning towards the first point, as his flying began to get more and more erratic, frantically trying to find a way out through the numerous towering buildings with a multitude of heroes on his tail.

It was an unfortunate timing of events.

It felt as though time froze for a split second. Aizawa had never felt as powerless as he did in that moment. He could only watch in horror as the villain slammed into the train tracks with a deafening thud, knocking away a good portion of the tracks that sat high above the ocean.

(Like a combination of these two ^⁠_⁠^)

Huge chunks of rubble slowly collapsed down and into the dark waters that rushed at the bottom of the tracks, down to the point where they couldn't be seen anymore. The metal pieces of the tracks sat sticking out of the remaining ends, bent and distorted.

Whipping his head where your train was coming, Aizawa felt as though his heart was about to overflow and explode to pieces right in his chest. He felt hollow, and everything began to swirl as he watched the train skid in an attempt to stop.

Unfortunately the train was too heavy to stop all at once, causing it to skid over the tracks with a shrieking screech as metal collided with metal.

Sparks flew from the wheels as the train bolted in the direction of the collapsed tracks, threatening to hurl itself over and into the roaring waters below. Surrounding citizens were ushered out of the area for their safety, but those remaining sat and watched tensely, often screaming out in worry and horror at the sight before them.

Aizawa immediately halted his car and tore out into your direction while leaving it where it sat, uncaring for anything that blocked his way from getting to you. He held his scarf that once sat in his passenger seat haphazardly in his arms, struggling to get the heavy metal properly around his neck while he ran.

Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted with all his might towards the skidding train, his eyes never leaving the sight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up there on time, and he surely knew he couldn't stop a train, but he'd be damned if he sat there watching without attempting anything.

A slight burst of hope sparked within him as several strength-bound heroes rushed to the scene and teamed up to heave the train in the opposite direction to slow it's movement. It was a bit of a struggle, but the stalling of what would've been a complete massacre of a train full of civilians meant everything in that moment.

A hero in front was attempting to push his feet in front of the machine while it skidded against him, and several in the back were using an assortment of quirks in an attempt to pull it backwards.

Slowly, the train began to slow just as Aizawa made his way up to it, the train still ticking its way uncomfortably close to the edge. He hopped into the train from the roof just as the front of the train slowly ran over the edge, dangling itself over the dark waters while the back cabins sat on the crumbling tracks.

All the passengers were in a panic, and it was incredibly difficult for Aizawa to manage his way through the terrified screaming and faces full of tears, but he was determined to face the chaos in order to find you.

He knew he was breaking Heroes Code. Once you were a hero, you were expected to do your best to save every person you could, with no bias towards one and risk the lives of many others. But he just couldn't think of such a thing at that time.

His mind was in a frenzy as the passengers all started hollering and rushing towards the back of the train, and in that moment, Aizawa realized why.

The front cabin of the train was threatening to rip off from the back end, the cables slowly snapping as more and more people rushed through it.

Eventually, a horrible, dreadful silence filled the cabin as the passengers still inside the front all froze in place, terrified to make a single move.

Aizawa stood at the front of the cabin that sat on the tracks, peering down inside the cabin that dangled - straight at the petrified faces of the passengers as they looked to him for rescue.

He had to think. If he just walked in, the entire thing would collapse. But he didn't see you in any of the cabins when he started at the back, and he took a second to glance over the terrified faces, each nothing but a blur to him.

Faceless, nameless citizens.

It was then that he instantly locked eyes with you, huddled at the way front end of the train. You were gripping the top bar of the train with such force that your knuckles were white, and he could see the true look of horror on your face as you had the closest view of the water waiting to swallow you down below.

He could only assume the two adults next to you were your parents, but he wasn't focused on them. Your eyes were screaming for him. It was extremely unsettling for him, to see your usually innocent and joyful face filled with such fear.

He only had one thing on his mind. The only thing he's every thought of whenever it came to you.

To keep you safe. To protect your smile.

At this point a couple other heroes had boarded the train alongside him and began to rush the the front end of the train, intent on getting everyone out alive.

Unaware of Aizawa's selfishness.

Slowly, the cables snapped as the cabin began to lower without stopping, causing the passengers to go into another round of distress as they all could only await the inevitable.

"Eraserhead!"

Quickly, Aizawa gave a small glance behind his shoulder to the random hero calling his name, keeping you in his peripheral vision. He was a young man with thick ropes of metal unwinding from his body, keeping the secondary cabin that still sat on the tracks from falling with the front. The metal coils winded around and through the train as it gripped the machine, keeping the man stationary.

"Please! Just save who you can!"

Another hero from behind the young man added on, "There are other pros waiting below the train to catch as many passengers as they can! They can't assure they'll be able to save everyone, so please! Move whoever you can grab, and do it NOW!"

He sprung into action before the hero could even finish her sentence, darting straight in your direction. For a brief second, his eyes caught a glimpse of who your parents were, and he realized that if he put in some extra effort that he could've taken them with him.

A dark, heavy feeling filled his mind for a second, and he seemed to lose control of his normally logical mind.

Envy. Jealousy. Rage.

They too, were faceless, nameless citizens.

Unimportant.

He was rash, wrapping and hauling you up and through the cabin with his scarf, immediately pulling you into his arms as he carried you to the safer cabin. Once his scarf was free he hastily tugged a few nearby passengers into the cabin with him, an alibi, before the cabin snapped entirely and began collapsing down below.

The passengers erupted into a cacophony of shrieks and crying as they uselessly tried to make their way to the other cabin before theirs fell entirely. Aizawa caught a glimpse of your parents faces again, but he only watched as they fell with no remorse on his face.

He felt hollow, but at the same time he felt fulfilled with you in his grasp.

Looking over, he saw a couple heroes mid-flight, ready to do what they could for the falling passengers. Aizawa could only look on grimly as he understood they wouldn't be able to handle all the people left behind.

You were clinging to him as the front end of the train collapsed, and as you turned your head Aizawa covered your face with his jacket to keep you from witnessing something that a kid your age shouldn't ever have to see in their lifetime.

-

The tragedy was all over the news. Numerous heroes littered the scene as they assisted all those that they saved to the medical professionals. News reporters were constantly attempting to get a word from one of those heroes, or an image of what was left behind. A few selfish ones, hungry for a best seller, tried to get a few words in with the victims.

The train was now empty, the front cabin sitting in the waters below and the rest of the train barely lasting against the remains of the crumbling tracks.

Ambulances were wheeling out more people than they had room for, and construction heroes were already on the scene as they got ready to remove the train from the hazardous tracks.

And yet, throughout all the chaos, all Aizawa could look as was you.

You, clinging onto him for dear life. You, who almost lost that life. You, who once again was saved by him just as he did that one time in the lake.

He refused to part with you, accompanying you all the way to the closest hospital they could get you to that wasn't overcrowded. He still stayed by your side, all throughout the night as you couldn't sleep.

He was by your side as the doctors gave you one last checkup before letting you know you were ready to leave.

And he was the shoulder you cried on when you found out the news about your parents. They were just faces in the crowd, yet he was still there to assist you.

He was a hollow, empty man towards the unknown. Those without faces didn't gain any sympathy from him, they littered the background plenty.

He was there when you felt completely, awfully lost and scared. And he was the one to offer you a home. He gave you a home, safety, and unconditional love and comfort. He was simply, conveniently there, and you didn't question it.

He was there for every fear, every nightmare, and every time your felt alone.

Later on, he was the one who accompanied you to school, this time as the one to sign you up and drive you home without worry. He drove you everywhere freely, no matter where you wanted to go. No worries attached.

You reached out to him as your pillar, and for once, things flipped around as he was your beacon of light now.

Soon enough, your smile returned, and with it that laugh he so enjoyed hearing from you. You were safe, and you were happy. That was all he needed.

Now that you were his, he wouldn't risk a single thing that he thought would put you in danger.

Your laugh was purely for him to hear.

Your smile was only his to see.

Your safety was only his concern.

Constantly by your side, you both rarely parted. He wouldn't allow you to anymore, seeing what happened the last time he attempted to let you go off without him.

You couldn't have been more grateful for all he gave you. He saved you from a lonely life ahead, and he kept you safe. He was always telling you that, anyways.

But you didn't mind. Aizawa was Aizawa, and you couldn't ask for anything else. For all you knew, he was the man who always conveniently showed up to save you, the one to always lend a hand whenever you needed it.

But to you, he wasn't Aizawa anymore.

He was Dad.

And he wouldn't ever let it go any other way.

Notes:

I hope this was good for a first attempt at writing Yandere! If this wasn't to your liking, send me a message through asks and I'll write another how you'd like! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I really liked the plot I made for this one - ̗̀ ( ˶'ᵕ'˶) ̖́-

I'm working on the other requests I've gotten, I've been getting plenty! I really appreciate every one who sent one in, I look forward to fulfilling what I can ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

I hope you all have a lovely day!

@jessiedead Hope you like it (⁠^⁠^⁠)

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #aizawa comfort #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa x daughter reader #aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #boku no hero academia Aizawa #bnha Aizawa #copycat writes #mha x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #x reader #reader insert

[chaosinyourhouse]

Little au thing in blood lust I made up

P.S-I am not the creator of this story. It is written by Babygrillbree on ao3 and quotev. Again, I am not taking any ownership over this story. This is just something I made up. Go check out their work, I recommend it.

I didn't include the Vees in this, sorry not sorry.

So, now that that's out of the way. You guy's know how Adam died by nifty's blade? What if instead of Adam, y/n tuke the hit.

Nifty didn't mean or even want to kill you, you jumped in front of the blade when you where getting out from under the ruble of the destroyed hotel. And you saw nifty going in for the kill, you reacted on impulse, flying your way over to where the two where and you slid in the small space between nifty and Adam, causing nifty to stab you in the chest instead (the reason they got stabbed in the chest and not the stomach is because of the big size difference between y/n and Adam, nifty would have to be fully raising her arms to get to Adams stomach). And that's when shut hit the fan.

When Adam felt the weight of something on his back, he got even more pissed off. Who the fuck would touch him at a time like this?! But when he turned around, the angered scowl in his faced turned to one of horror, immediately recognizing the ears and wings, it was you. All he could do was stand there, frozen. Until he wasn't, quickly dropping to his knees he screams in absolute horror. Gaining the attention of the gang and lute.

Lute screams the way she did when Adam died in the original, but some how able to fit even more pain and horror into it. She throws the crying nifty away from your body, which was being cuddled into Adam. But even when lute tries to get close, Adam shakes his head at her, shielding you more, now wrapping his slightly trembling wings around your corpse. All she can do is sit there with a look of shock and anger.

Mean while, the gang isn't doing any better. Angel had colopsed on the floor, sobbing and wailing. Husk wrapping his arms around him in an attempt to soothe him, but he couldn't really do that when he wasn't very stable either. Crying as well, struggling to keep his inner turmoil to himself. Charlie was in a similar state, the only difference being her full demon form appearing again. Vaggie crying along with her, though she didn't move, not knowing how to process the situation happening in front of her at the moment. Though instead of sadness, she is filled with anger. And Lucifer, oh deer god. Times what you're imagining by 100. Because it's not even close. He would've came over to Adam and lute to retrieve your body if it wasn't for the fact his anger immobilized him, his body and wings trembling tremendously as memories flash through his mind; those stupid but adorable pranks you pulled on him, when he always cooked with you, when he could cuddle you, when he could feel you, when you where still alive. It's a shame alastor wasn't there, but he'll find out soon enough.

With a angered filled gaze, Adam picks you up. Calling to the exercise that the extermination was over, flapping his wings with you in his arms as he flys to the portal, lust not far behind. This snaps the gang out of their trance, looking out in despair as Adam disappears with your corpse from their sight.

Once their in heaven, Adam quickly runs to his bed, setting you down. He looks over at you, some where in the back of his head, he knew you weren't coming back. But he had a little bit of hope, walking out of the room, but not before taking a glance at you, and walking off.

Little did any of them know, Sir Penctious wasn't the only one getting a second chance.

Note- good lord I am not okay.

#hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #yandere adam x reader #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere charlie x reader #yandere lute x reader #yandere husk x reader #yandere angle dusk x reader #yandere alastor x reader #blood lust on ao3 #blood lust by babygrillbree #Babygrillbree on ao3 #Babygrillbree #mother please feed me

[ktaerssoi]

Mmmm what about Kate with a partner who’s love language is gift giving, specifically handmade gifts.

Like just imagine Kate being gifted a bouquet of crochet flowers by her partner, I can’t get that image out of my head.

Also do you take anons? can I be 🐹 anon?

handcrafted

kate martin x fem!reader

summary: it was your's and kate's one year anniversary together, and to make it special you made your gift by hand.

(826)

you and kate have had a connection from the moment you met, you guys had ignored it until you finally confessed to her in the pouring rain, a story for another day, but a connection nonetheless.

you guys had made a deal on your six month anniversary that you wouldn't go all out for your one year, so you hadn't. recently, you had been trying to learn how to crochet, seeing some cute crafts that you wanted to make.

one of these crafts, a bouquet of crochet flowers, caught your eye one day while scrolling on Instagram. you looked up a tutorial and quickly got to practicing, thinking that they would make a nice, thoughtful gift for kate.

you had finally gotten the pattern down a few days before you were going to go out. you had made almost a dozen of them, untying and retying them all together until they were to your standards. you felt sort of weird making something so simple for such a big day in your relationship, but at the same time, it felt fitting for you and kate.

-

the day had come, you were woken up by kate bringing you breakfast, more like lunch, in bed.

the two of you had the whole day planned out, you were going to chill at home for a little, maybe hit up the mall, and then go out to dinner at a restaurant you guys had been frequenting more often. you were excited, to say the least, you had gotten ready two hours before you had to leave, wanting to look your best.

you were nervous too, you were starting to get self-conscious about your gift, thinking it was a little babyish. calm down, it'll be fine, it's just kate. you repeated those words in your head until you started to believe them.

you guys were having a great night, the food was great and you were laughing and talking the whole time. you guys had decided to do presents once you got home, feeling like it might be weird to do such a personal thing in a public setting.

you guys were wrapping up at the restaurant, the waiters and waitresses bidding you goodbye, knowing they would see the two of you again soon.

"c'mon y/n, I want to go home! I'm so excited to give you your gift, it's so cool" you smiled as you looked at kate, she was practically jumping off the walls to leave.

"my company isn't enough to keep you here?" you laughed as you walked out the door, watching her face contort to make an argument against your claim. you didn't hear the end of it till you got to the car two minutes later.

your leg was bouncing nervously on the way home, kate had noticed and grabbed your hand halfway there. it calmed you down, even if you didn't want to admit you were stressed in the first place.

you weren't totally sure why you were nervous, maybe it was the fact that you thought kate wouldn't like them, or that you felt like they wouldn't compare to whatever kate gets you.

-

finally, after both of you had changed and taken off your makeup, you were seated on the couch. both of you holding the other's respective gifts. kate had a tiny bag that seemed to hold something fancy. you were scared, to say the least.

you switched bags and to say you were shocked is an understatement. kate had given you a bracelet with what seemed to be hand-polished gems, she had held off on opening hers just to see your reaction.

you jumped into her arms, kissing her face to show your gratitude. "kate, baby, this is so cute, did you make this yourself? i love it so much oh my gosh." you had asked her to help you put it on, not wanting to ever take it off again.

you were sitting on her lap messing with the chain when you realized she hadn't opened your gift yet. "kate!" you gasped, a smile on your face as you reached for the bag, handing it to her. "open it! please? i know its not much but i learned how to make each one individually and it took me actual weeks-" you were cut off by kate kissing your lips, it was a slow kiss, one that expressed just how thankful she was for the present.

"they're amazing babe, im going to go get a vase to put them in." you got up, letting her walk into the kitchen to get a vase. you were still a little shell-shocked about that kiss.

-

the vase of handmade flowers sat on your coffee table for almost two years, only moving when you did. every year since your first anniversary you've added a new flower. every day, it's like walking into a reminder of just how much you two had been through together.

notes: erm chat?? new color?? but also yes, i do take anons! hi 🐹!! anyway chat.. i miss my gf.. YEAH GIRLFRIEND. I TOLD YOU SHE WAS INTO ME. (we've been on one date.) sos chat - kate

kate's gift to you

your gift to kate

#wcbb #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #caitlin clark x reader #kate martin #paige bueckers fic #wlw #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for filming parts of concerts? I love going to see live music whenever I can, and before recently, I was very much of the opinion that there was no point in filming the songs you're listening to because they wont be worth listening back to anyway bc the quality will be so bad, so you're just wasting your time not enjoying the music when thats what you paid so much money to go there to do! But now I have a better phone that actually does manage to capture the moment pretty well, I really like recording sections of songs to listen and watch back later on. I post them on my private instagram, but they are really just for me. It's really nice to be able to go back and not just remember that moment that you were there better, but also feel the energy of the crowd and stuff like that and relive it just for a moment, and any time I haven't captured part of a concert I've been to I've regretted it later on.

Thing is, I also agree that there is literally nothing worse than standing in a crowd and not even being able to see the damn stage because all you can see is phone screens! It's really disruptive and takes you out of the experience. So I try and strike a healthy balance with it. I only record like, one chorus, maybe at /most/ a minute of the song (but even then I feel cheeky), and I do not do it for every song, like maybe 3/4 out of the set list, just my favourites or the most popular ones. I dont want to be standing there recording the whole song anyway, I have moshing and jumping and ugly scream singing to be done that can't be done when I'm recording.

But I do wonder if even recording this much makes me a horrible hypocrite and an asshole full stop. Like I said, those people who stand there recording the whole concert start to finish literally make me want to tear my eyes out (i've stood behind people like this before and spent the whole concert trying to dodge around their phone screen). The last concert I went to, I was recording the opening section (along w/ many many others) and some guy behind me screamed at everyone to put down their phones and I had a bit of a come to jesus moment bc I'd literally done /exactly that/ a few concerts ago and it made me wonder. Honestly even if I am an asshole for this, I probably wont stop :') . But I at least will accept that I am a little bit of the very person I hate. So is life.

So AITA for recording small parts of concerts to watch back later on?

#aita #am i the asshole

[supercalime]

hellooo, fellow bucktommy shipper (and casual b*ddie enjoyer, if it weren't for the horrors...) here! i really liked your take on b*ddie st*ns and how they are now making super wild assumptions based on some latest interviews.

you know one thing that irks me? somehow nobody seems to talk about is the fact that in canon, buck isn't written to be in love with eddie at all. like, can we please talk about this??? because I'm all for Death Of The Author. OS can talk about ships all he wants but in the end, only the canon narrative matters to me personally. i've watched long-form content with endgame couples being set up in the pilot episodes who become canon many seasons later (bones, castle, grey's anatomy, the mentalist, etc.), and the entire point of such couples is to establish that, yes, they have been having romantic feelings all this time since day one. they do so very very obviously. there is zero subtlety or room for questioning.

one of the most common tropes is to give one or both characters (of the endgame couple) another love interest so that the endgame couple can be full of jealousy and pettiness every time that other love interest is mentioned or shown. having another love interests always endangers the original closeness of the endgame couple, and then the breakup propels the endgame couple forward in their relationship. the love interest is always used for comparisons, to make it abundantly clear that everybody else is lacking in some way. at no point in 911 did they do so with buck and eddie??? these dudes go through various romantic relationships, and never ever has it been any issue to the b*ddie dynamic. never was it talked about. never were hints dropped that one of them is jealous. even now, with bucktommy, eddie shows not a single ounce of jealously. on the other side, look at how they showed us buck being obviously jealous because eddie monopolized tommy's time even though buck wanted tommy time himself! buck couldn't stand the jealousy even a little bit, and he ended up literally hurting his bestie because of it. but whenever eddie is involved romantically and sexually with someone, there are zero signs that buck is bothered or threatened or jealous. they both seem super chill? they do not question at any point that them dating other people might hurt their relationship? logically, that must mean buck's never wanted to be romantically or sexually involved with eddie (and vice versa). at it's core, b*ddie has been written as a friendship. to this day, we have no canon proof for anything else.

i would not hate b*ddie to happen or anything. i do enjoy b*ddie fics (those that aren't super misogynist ♥). and i think it could be a great couple if done well! but as you said, even when buck thought eddie was hot... well, so what? that's literally just an objective observation. RG is handsome based on societal standards. chim and hen also immediately acknowledged that eddie was hot in 2x01, and both of them are Not At All romantically or sexually attracted to eddie either. nobody is questioning chim's or hen's sexuality based on the comments they made about eddie being hot. because nothing about this equals real romantic feelings or the desire to be in a relationship. the fandom understands that logic just fine with chim and hen. why not with buck, though? also, we have yet to see a reversed moment for eddie staring at buck and finding him hot. they had no problem to show eddie Immediately having a crush on ana flores when he first met her. this shows that eddie feels sexual attraction just fine. he was, however, never shown in canon to feel it for buck.

also interesting: even though buck found eddie hot when they first met, it did not trigger buck to seriously question his sexuality at any point in the past like, 5 years or so. in all those years of canon b*ddie friendship, the show has never used the plethora of opportunities to propel b*ddie into romantic or sexual territory. the show could have! but the show never did, so i refuse to let b*ddie st*ns or OS retcon this. if it's not in the canon material, it isn't canon. with tommy, it took only a couple of weeks and a handful of interactions for buck to reach a point of clarity about his sexuality. the most logical deduction imo is that buck simply clocked that eddie's hot (like everybody else, duh, he isn't special in that regard), and it's never meant anything deep.

my only real probem with this entire situation is how hardcore b*ddie st*ns are now using this as a justification to harass others even more (especially bucktommy shippers). i'd love to enjoy canon bucktommy and fanon b*ddie in peace! but the hate that b*ddie st*ns are spreading everywhere again (like with every new season and newly introduced love interest) is so overwhelming.

sorry for the long ass rant btw oopsie. feel free to ignore this. i just wanted to let it out and it seemed like you would understand. anyway, thanks for reading in case you got this far!

I’d never ignore a sensible take, anon! (I feel bad that you had to go anon but I understand. We know the drill by now, some stans are scary lol)

But like, ALL OF THIS!!!

Discourse like this is what takes away the enjoyment of media for me. It sucks that fandom experience can have two very extreme opposing sides, specially when it comes to two “competing” ships. You can kinda tell by how bucktommy shippers behave (I’m not trying to flex at all because I am one. A good majority of us has zero problem with b*ddie endgame even though we prefer the other. We like what we are getting and are happy to see this storyline play out) compared to b*ddie shippers (of course not all of them, I’m talking about the entitled ones. That clog comment sections, bother actors, go to the other ships tag to complain about it and say how their preferred ship is better, etc).

Im not immune to bad takes and bad fan behavior. Ive surely acted like these stans in other fandoms and i do regret it, so i hate seeing it happen again and again, no matter where i go.

Not to quote mean girls, but I wish we could all get along…

All that being said, whichever ship “wins”, it’s no one’s call but the writers and producers of the show. Someone told me that Tim writes for himself and doesn’t take outside factors (at least to an extent cause it’s impossible to not know the fan reaction) into consideration when it comes to where he wants the story to go.

#don’t apologize anon #im not a popular blog so getting a nice ask is always fun to read and respond to :) #lety rambles #ask #911 #bucktommy #tevan #firefly #firepilot #911 abc