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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months

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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna #soft sukuna #i love bastardizing sukuna in my fics #also this is totally leading me into a part 2 w reincarnated reader #yes weve heard it a thousand times #idc it makes me happy

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toughbunnyforever · 2 months

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maybe try writing him a note next time idk

#he does but he writes so aggressively it comes out illegible #also scary looking #shouto prob looks at it and is like #is this… a ransom note #katsuki thinks he’s been rejected when theres no response #then shouto just confesses one day #totally unrelated to all of his attempts lol #what a loser #my art #digital art #mha #bnha #tdbk #bktd #todobaku #i like them too #mainly for the no angst fluff comedy scenarios that ensue

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hairmetal666 · 2 months

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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #actors steve harrington and eddie munson #costars #hooking up #fluff #costars to lovers #idiots in love #feelings confession #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #i don't totally know what this is

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nkogneatho · 5 months

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ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 who's experiencing love for the first time. He's been rejected so many times that he thought history would repeat again. So the moment you said "yes", it took him five whole minutes to process everything.

Shinichiro doesn't know how to act around you. He is usually so confident but it all mellows down the moment his eyes land on you. You're so beautiful. How did he get so lucky? When you touch him, his blood rushes and his body heats up. Although, his words aren't quivering like his hands are. But when you kiss him, it's even better. He is shaking, not because he is nervous but he is used to manhandling everything. and you're a fragile flower in his eyes that will get it's petal bruised at the slightest harsh touch. So he takes it slow, hands lightly brushing up your waist with lips so pillowy. He doesn't dominate you for now. He let's you do your thing. Let's you tell him how much you want him.

When you straddle on his lap, his pale skin turns peach, but he manages to shoot you a smirk. You start grinding as you press your lips further into him and god...shit! He feels like he'd die. You're so hot. So needy. Your heat is nestling his cock under those jeans. The way you slightly whine in desperation has him falling in love. He loves you. All of you.

#oh look...i am totally not falling for him...right...totally. not me haha #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #shinichiro smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #sano shinichiro #shinichiro fluff #sano shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokrev x reader #shinichiro x you

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earthtooz · 1 year

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hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull.

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps.

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye.

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz.

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.”

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind.

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.”

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you.

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill.

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.”

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done.

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade.

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you.

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

#leah pls don't perceive me this is saur embarrassing #if u read this i will simply #idk what i will do but i will do something #it feels like the heavens is deciding my fate idk this is a lot of pressure HELP #i'm not totally happy with this one #but i was determined to get this out lol so #mediocre writing as always bc what else do i give you all <33 #i should get rid of this habit #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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natalievoncatte · 2 months

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The palm-print panel was cool under Lena’s touch. She pressed her hand to the rectangular plate next to her front door and waited for the brief moment it needed to scan her skin. The door unlocked with a meaty thump and she pushed it open with her other hand, absently checking her phone as she stepped inside. As the system scanned her biometrics, it detected stress and dimmed the lights, automatically turned on the television to an abstract screen saver with cool tones, and began to play an arrangement for a violins to soothe her nerves.

She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where she skipped the countertop wine cellar and pulled out the half-empty box of Trader Joe’s vintage that she’d taken a liking to thanks to Kara. She pours herself half a tumbler full as a silent fuck you to her mother and took a swig, then walked out into her living room to sit down in the gloom for a few minutes and think.

Supergirl was sitting on her couch, head flopped back over the back so that her hair fanned out across the white leather. She sat splayed with her knees apart and legs out, arms resting on her thighs. Lena wasn’t sure if she was awake.

As she drew closer, she caught a small gasp. Supergirl had a black eye, and there were scrapes on her cheeks and the backs of her hands, the blood barely crusted. Both her hands and her face were bruised and she had a tiny split in her lip.

Lena placed the wine on the table, nerves jangling when the bottom rattled against the pale marble from the shaking of her hand. Her heart raced as she drew closer. Supergirl had taken off her cape and draped it over the couch. It was none the worse for wear but was covered in scorch marks.

Suoergirl’s broad chest heaved once and she let out a long, pained sigh.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Supergirl.”

She let out a little laugh, wincing. “Do we need be so formal?”

“I don’t have anything else to call you,” Lena said, coolly. “Mind if I ask why you’re in my apartment?”

“You don’t lock the balcony doors. You should.”

Lena sighed and folded her arms. “I said why, not how.”

Supergirl didn’t look at her.

“I just got the snot beaten out of me. Everything hurts.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

How was it possible? Curiosity tugged at her, but concern shot through it, making her fidget with her hands. Lena hated fidgeting. It made her look weak, and she could still remember the pain when Lillian cracked the ruler across her knuckles to break the habit.

“Can I have some wine?”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Sure,” she said.

She went to the kitchen and poured. When she returned to the living room, Supergirl was sitting up, hunched forward and leaning on he knees. Lena started a little at the sight. Sitting that way displayed the wide, muscular set of her shoulders and arms, especially her meaty biceps. Her back was a rare sight -she wore a cape, after all- and just as exquisitely muscled.

She was looking at her hands, at the damage to her muscles. Lena offered the glass and she took it. Her fingers were warm when they brushed against Lena’s, strangely soft.

Supergirl took a long pull of wine and smacked her lips, then winced.

“It’s times like this I wish I could get drunk.”

“You can’t?”

“Not on wine and not for very long.”

“Interesting.”

“So I have a problem,” Supergirl said. She was still looking at her hands.

“And that is?”

“I have to call off work tomorrow. These will heal, and I’ll look exactly the same. I don’t get scars anymore. But they’ll be visible for a day or so.”

“I see.”

“But I have to get brunch with someone, and they’ll be able to tell. Concealer won’t do much for this.” She touched her eye, wincing.

“Wait here,” said Lena.

She came back a moment later with some wash clothes soaked in cold water on a tray. Hands still shaking a little as she placed it on the table. Tenderly, she took one of the washcloths and dabbed the back of Supergirl’s hands, cleaning away the grime and dried blood from the abrasions.

Supergirl sighed. “That feels good. Thank you.”

“May I?” said Lena.

Supergirl hesitated, doubt flashing deep within the endless depths of her blue eyes, but she turned to Lena and tilted up her chin. With shaking fingers, Lena cupped Supergirl’s face gently and used a fresh cloth to clean and cool the cut on her lip. Supergirl closed her eyes and sighed.

Lena’s eyes wandered up, to the small mark above her eye.

“You don’t scar. Did you get that on Krypton?”

“Yes. I slipped and fell when I was a little girl. You should have seen me. I bled all over.”

“Must be nice, not getting hurt anymore. Not feeling pain.”

“I still feel it.”

Lena paused.

“I feel every bullet and blow and bomb blast just like anyone would,” said Supergirl. Just because it doesn’t harm me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” said Supergirl.

She opened her eyes -eye- and looked at Lena reverently, one pretty blue eye glittering while the other remained bruised shut. She smiled a lopsided, honest smile, looked at Lena in a dreamy, almost adoring way that-

Wait.

“Oh my God,” Lena breathed.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lena whispered. “Oh my God, what happened, how did this happen to you? You’re hurt!”

“I had a tough time with a very determined alien and had to worry about civilians,” said Kara. “It happens.”

Lena’s pulse raced and her breath quickened. Her gaze darted, searching and noticing every detail. She was so beautiful, and she was so Kara.

“Why now?” said Lena. “Why this time?”

“I don’t know.”

Lena bit her lip, and the tiny gesture had a noticeable impact on Kara. Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to Lena’s bottom lip, then flicked back up.

“So your brunch,” said Lena. “That was with me.”

“Yeah. I thought about cancelling but I can’t. I needed to see you now.”

Lena shifted closer on the couch, until they were hip to hip.

“Why?”

“Because I just got punched in the head by an alien with big stupid bone spurs coming out of his fist and I need to see you. I won, by the way. It was really cool. I ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground and hit him with it.”

Lena looked her up and down. Her jaw began to quiver.

“Oh God. Is it worse than it looks? Are you hurt worse than you look, Kara? Are you…”

Kara shook her head, then winced. “No. Not that bad, promise. I just…” she sighed. “I’m tired of going to lay on a sunbed and going back to my empty apartment and spend a sick day napping on the couch.”

Lena let out a slow breath. “So you came to see me.”

“Yuuup,” Kara said, slowly.

Lena shifted awkwardly in her seat. Kara slowly reached over with her now clean hand and curled her fingers around Lena’s chin.

“Lena?” she whispered. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

Kara turned and leaned into her, pressing the slightest, lightest kiss to Lena’s lips, not a quick peck but something slow and soft, warm and inviting.

“Ow,” Kara muttered.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

“I have any idea. Since I can’t make brunch… how about breakfast?”

Lena leaned against her, gently draping her arms around her as they fell back into the soft cushions together.

“Okay.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #supercorp fluff #tooth rotting fluff #so much fluff #total fluff #fluffalicious #here at Natalie’s fluff depot we have all the fluff you could ever want

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wonryllis · 2 months

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𓈒ㅤ𑁯 YOU KNOW I WANT YOU, ! ˚ യ

is here in your perfect eyes, they're all i can see, just know that these things will never change for us at all. would you lie with me and just forget the world?

lee heeseung with fem!reader in the city of love. ⋆ ARCHIVE? g. fluff, s2l, wordcnt. 550 chasing cars; snow patrol

ROCK BAND FRONTMAN heeseung who also happens to be your NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR, stumbling into you the first time when you're moving your amazon packages you accidentally ordered to his apartment number. caught right in the middle of picking up the last box, your pretty eyes looking up at him all wide and surprised.

like a little bunny caught stealing berries— he's hooked right from the beginning.

"hey, i'm heeseung," ordering his packages to your door so he can start a little something, to know your name, to know what your voice sounds like. to let you know you he is open to talk to you given any chance.

always trying to find opportunities to bump into you, looking through the peephole whenever he's home to see if you'd head out, ready with either 'taking out the trash' or 'going out for groceries' he's so desperate to get close to you, always offering to help you out with anything and everything. sometimes calling you over to listen to a new draft or to have a taste of the new recipe he tried. it shows on his face, just how he feels. and he doesn't mind it, he wants you to know; it's not a secret he tries to hide.

"it's easy, i can teach you," offering to teach you how to play the guitar when you awe over his skills. the thought of having his hands over yours, guiding them to hit the strings right, his face right next to yours, cheeks touching; it was a step closer.

slow and steady was his plan.

but once he knew of how you'd been here only for a one year work program, he realizes there isn't enough time to take it slow. and from then on he's actively pursuing you. asking you out on dates, even though he doesn't specifically tell you it's a date, the things he takes you out for are obvious enough. expensive restaurants and famous bakeries, pretty parks and romantic plays, boating picnics and city tours to show you all the places he'd bring you to every weekend.

waiting right outside the building with breakfast, in the morning when you leave for work to walk with you and drop you off. sometimes he'd wait outside your door but after you told him he doesn't need to do so much for you, he stubbornly opted to wait downstairs, telling you he's heading to work too. his studio on the other side and his 'work' starting whenever he wants it to.

sometimes he would ask you to come over for help because he can't write anything and having you close gives him inspiration. sitting with you out in the balcony, coffee mugs in hand while he makes you laugh, your pretty little smile flooding his mind with hearts and fuzzy feelings.

sending flowers to your workplace at lunch along with little desserts and sweet little notes telling you he'll keep trying until the end.

slowly as you accept him and his love, he'd invite you to his shows, giving you vip passes for backstage so you can be with before and after he's on stage. dedicating songs to a special someone and talking about everything he loves about you, he's smitten; wondering what he'd do when the year is over.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @ms-no1kpopstan @aaa-sia @okwonyo

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cheeseceli · 10 months

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Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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redthemarten · 4 months

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Revenge.

#genshin impact #Wriothesley #Neuvillette #Wriolette #comic #doodles #my art #other things to come but since my friend's birthday happened to be exactly one month since last vibe check #I had to serve some more fluff #I mean Neuvillette would totally schedule a surprise vibe check one month prior #just to 1 hit KO Wrio

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seneon · 3 months

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rayne having the habit to nuzzles his head on the crook of your neck and place lazy kisses (just like how he does w his bunnies) once he gets home and is tired (gets replenished instantly though)

oh ok.

DIVINE VISIONARY work is honestly so tiring, having to save and protect the country with your whole live. especially rayne, who did all that while also studying and having prefect duties to complete. every day is a tiring day, having no rest most of the times. so how exactly did he survive being tired all this time?

well, he has you. you, his personal charger. his personal energy replenishment. his personal little ball of happiness that consumes all tiredness the moment he sees you. whether it be in school, in your dorm rooms, or at home. all he wants to do is just be around you and he will forget that he even is tired.

just like any other days during semester break, rayne has a load of work as a divine visionary to complete and when he came home, he cannot resist but lean on you the moment you open the door. which eventually leads to the both of you just laying down on the living room sofa, watching a tv show you were watching the entire day.

rayne has a habit though. he is like a baby, a clingy and big baby. as you watch tv, rayne laid above you and buried his head into the crook of your neck. you can feel his breath against your skin. occasionally, he would talk about how his day played through by his muffled voice as it always plucks your attention away from the screen and onto him. you'd reassure him that you're listening by playing with his pretty hair or even giving his head little massages.

by doing that, it makes the ames sleepy and so very loved. he loves your fingers running through his hair. he loves you. rayne smiles against your neck very often at the little things you do to show him how much you appreciate him. rayne also kisses your neck lazily always, while he is sleepy by your head massages. sometimes he kisses your neck so much that he falls asleep and forgets that it's hard to breathe in the corner or it's uncomfortable.

that's okay though, you'll always slowly and carefully shift him so he has a comfortable space to sleep. at the end, you'll fell asleep with him.

#ok kenji #ok kyo #ok kyokenji #(totally not kicking my feet when i wrote this)#why am i so single #★ kenji #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #rayne x reader #rayne x you #rayne x y/n #mashle #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle x reader #mashle rayne #mashle fluff #rayne fluff #mashle imagines

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emmyrosee · 1 year

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“Daddy, Uncle Shi-Shi called you a news-ance.”

From underneath the cabinet, Atsumu’s head slammed into the wood above him, whatever he was doing suddenly not mattering. Rintaro, who was holding the tools, now was absolutely cackling at the entire scene. The now wounded blonde slowly pulls his head out of the cabinet, a massive hand cradling his head and a look of betrayal on his face.

“He what!”

“Well, when you called Uncle Shi-Shi after lunch to tell me to come home, ‘nd he asked if you were done, ‘nd you said no, he got mad when he hung up and called you a complete news-ance.”

Rintaro’s cackling reached new levels as Hisako looks quizzically between them, hand smacking his knee and gasping for breath he cannot seem to catch.

Uncle Shinsuke, who was just supposed to have Hisako for the day while Atsumu fixed the sink- right, that’s what he was doing, pre-slander and concussion- but when the job became too much, Atsumu figured he’d have Hisako dropped back off at home to have some lunch and her nap, so Kita could go about his day; no matter how much Kita adores Hisako, it can be hard to balance errands with a four year old.

So much for being courteous.

“Daddy, Uncle ‘Taro, what’s a news-ance?”

“It means your dad’s annoying,” Sunarin ungraciously explains, leaning against the counter. Hisako tips her head in confusion, and Atsumu gives him a glare.

“It means,” Atsumu sighs, “that Uncle Shi-Shi got mad that I was busy but still wanted you home. He didn’t think it was a good idea.” Then, under his breath, he mumbles a quick “didn’t stop him from dropping you off, though.”

“Oh…” Hisako seems to ponder this before she nods, letting Atsumu duck his head back under the sink. “Well I don’t think you’re ‘noying!”

Atsumu groans as his child picks up Suna’s description of a nuisance, “I’m glad baby; why don’t you go put on paw patrol, I’ll bring you lunch in a minute?”

“Okay daddy!”

Tiny feet toddle off, and from above the cabinet, Atsumu hears Rin stifle a laugh. “Damn, she’s funny.”

“Don’t encourage her, she turns every single uncle of hers against me.”

“Pretty sure you do that to yourself, my guy.”

“Give me the pliers and stay quiet.”

A few moments later, a small voice comes back into Atsumu’s earshot again, this time directed mostly at Suna.

“Uncle ‘Taro?”

“What’s up, lean cuisine?”

“How come Uncle Shi-Shi uses those big words, but mommy just says daddy’s ‘noying?”

His head slams back into the cabinet, once again whining in pain, and Suna’s laughter of betrayal once again filling the Miya home. A trip to the ER would have to wait; this is far more important.

“She WHAT?”

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mysteriesmuse · 10 months

Text

It all started with Katsuki being dead-asleep and sprawled out and snoring in a way that most people would deem horrendously uncomfortable, and obnoxiously pleasant. Like an overgrown cat.

He was dead to the world until his phone rang. Biceps twitching and flinging awake in the dark Katsuki’s dark red eyes cut across the grey light of his room to catch into the stark blue phone light that was buzzing like crazy. Hands accidentally fumbling as he grabbed it he squinted with a surprised, “fuck.” Why were you calling him? You were 2 years his senior and the resident babysitter/tutor of his neighborhood back in Musutafu. A smart student and pretty girl: one of the only babysitters his parents ever agreed to come watch him. Mostly because your death glare was one that could really rival his own mothers, but also bc Katsuki harbored a little bit of admiration and a crush on you for some time making him actually behave for you.

And as your name flashes across the screen pressed against his cheek he can only remember sitting at the kitchen counters and sharing orange slices as you quiz him for his practical exams. He hasn’t seen you in years. Your voice flits through same as ever, “Hey Katsuki!” He shuffles and sits up closer. His eyebrows peaked — you sound breathy and stressed. “Hey to you too,” he growls. Another whisky giggle, “I know it’s late. I’m really sorry about that! It’s just — well your mother always tells me to call you if I was ever alone at night and I couldn’t think of who else I trust to call. . .” His damn mother did have a habit of telling resident kids to call him in case they were in dangerous situations. A habit she always kept up since he was a kid; always making him walk with you and the other girls when school clubs let out. And now here he was a fledgling hero and Mitsuki was still telling extras to call him — I guess some things never change. Katsuki could hear the faint music of karaoke bars over the phone. Already getting out of bed and rummaging through his drawers for a pair of sweats and hoodie. “S’ okay. Where’re you at right now?” You huff a little sigh, “I’m out at the bar strip on the west side of the city . . . it’s a little chilly.” Katsuki already has his feet in his slides and is heading out his dorm room, “I can hear your teeth chattering from here.” He huffs, “Now what’s the problem?” “I’m just a little nervous . . .” You admonish finally, “Could you just stay on the phone with me, please Katsuki? It’s really kinda sketchy out here.” He grunts, already stepping out the dormitory door and hitting the streets. “I can do that. How’ve ya been? It’s been awhile.” You huff a little laugh, “College is fine pretty mundane to what you’ve been doing. I’ve seen you on the tv and in the news a lot recently. I’m real proud of you Kit-Kat. Your folks are too.” Katsuki can feel his stupid heart leap at that nickname you gave him.

It’s because he used to give you kit-kats every year on white day — which wasn’t really out of the ordinary since you gave him chocolate on valentines, but you gave chocolates to all the neighborhood kids anyways. And despite his parents teasing and his agony you never seemed to think much of it, ruffled his hair and gave him a cute nickname.

He chest swells with pride nonetheless. A particular school event was coming up and he finds himself mentioning it as he spots your form sitting under the bus stop and shouts into the night instead of the phone. “I’ve got my year-three performance showcase coming up next week. If you wanna come watch I can definitely get you tickets next to my folks.” Your eyes go wide and flit over to his figure in the darkness. And the first thing Katsuki can’t help but think is that you look pretty.

Your arms are crossed over your chest and the black corset top you’re wearing. It makes your waist and broad shoulders pop. And as he gets closers he can see that it’s got the lace closures down the sides with cute little bows that you’ve tied. A pair of cream colored trousers and tall peep-toe heels underneath as you rise to greet him. Phone slack in your hand as you stare at him. The black straps of your top dangling over your smooth collarbone as you inhale, “Kats what are you doing here?” Your head of curled hair — he’s never seen you with curled hair before — tilts like a puppy dog. He shrugs hands in his pockets, “Coulda asked you the same.” He says pointedly, you curl in and flush with embarrassment, “How much have you had?” “Only a few. I’m still sober.” You reply with a shiver as you fall into step beside him, “Not as fun as I thought it was gonna be. My friends are still inside.” At this Katsuki feels himself relax he didn’t think this was really your seen anyway. Especially with those friends he knows you’re referring to: the older kids of the neighborhood. “Yeah the rest of them are real pieces of work, babe.” Babe. Did he just call you babe? Dunce face is rubbing off on him. You notice, glancing to look up at him, but he watches you shake your head a little and dismiss it as quickly. “So what’s this showcase that you mentioned Kit-Kat?” He huffs, taking the side closest to the street, “It’s a promotional showcase for 3rd years. Show the pros what we can do, explain our personal philosophy, our ambitions. It’s like a really big resume preview. It’s real important for getting yourself out there to the agencies although I already have good ties to some.” You nod, bumping elbows with him as you dodge a streetlight, “seems really important,” you muse. “I’d love to come if it’s no trouble?” Katsuki’s eyes are glued into your glossy lips while you say that, turning away with the tips of his ears pink as he grunts, “S’ no problem at all. I can get ya’ one tomorrow.” You hum thoughtfully, “it’ll be nice to see you in action up close. I’ve watched your sports festival showings before — it makes me want s’mores.” at this you giggle and lock eyes with him, “I let you do that one time.” Katsuki groans rolling his eyes. “Still the best ones I ever had!” He chuckles nudging you with his shoulder. You beam ear-to-ear and his heart pitters as you loop an arm through his to steady yourself, “I can’t believe we’re both so grown-up now.” And here you go turning sappy on him.

“You know Suki’ I know you’re gonna be a great hero because you’ve always done stuff like this for me. No matter how often others tell you different, you send them to me okay?” And you’re sniffling now, still shivering against his side as you prepare to fight off all the haters he has. He’s matured a lot since his debut, but they don’t say make a good-first impression for nothing. He glances at you intelligent, well-educated, passionate as you are you weren’t gonna put up much of a fight — he still appreciates the sentiment. He grumbles a “thank you” into your hair as he walks you home in the dead of night.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou headcanons #mha fanfiction #reader insert #mysteriesmusing #Totally random one today y’all I got off work sooo early this morning and wrote this #just a little blurb #I wouldn’t expect anymore of this idea

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