#I loved stitching this!! I'm so happy it was requested!!!!

[allyeardepression]

@jegulus-microfic | april 22 evoke | words: 1,6k

big shout out to @frnkmush for helping me with this one, you’re such an angel 🫶🏼

tw: swearing, mentions of wounds

part one

On Monday evening, Regulus received an Instagram message request from someone called jfprongs. He went to check on the person’s profile to see who they were, and—oh god.

At the sight of a radiant smile, bronze skin, and golden glasses, all memories from the night before evoked in him. He suddenly remembered making an absolute fool of himself by asking a doctor who just stitched him up on a date.

While he was drunk.

The first thing he did was send a screenshot of the profile and the message that read just a simple ‘Hi’ to the group chat.

i can fix him (i can’t)

Reg

<2 photos attached>

that’s the doctor from last night

what do i do??????????

Barty

skakksjsksjsjsjsjajsjsj

Evan

x2

Pandora

x3

what is he doing in your dms?

Reg

…

i may or may not have asked him out

There was a short pause before his phone started ringing.

“What the fuck do you mean you asked him out?” Pandora asked, amused. In the background, Regulus could hear Barty and Evan laughing hysterically.

“Well, I was drunk, and he was really hot. We should all be grateful I only did that instead of trying to convince him to fuck me on his desk,” he responded, trying to take off the bandage off of the fresh wound without making it hurt more than necessary.

On the other end of the line, he could hear Panda huffing a small laugh. “Yeah, thank god that whore didn’t come out.”

“Any—oh fuck, it hurts—anyways, what do I do now?” Regulus asked again, finally throwing away the old bandage and starting to clean the cut. He hated using disinfectants on any part of his body, really, but on the face, it felt worse than anything.

His friend hummed thoughtfully. “I think you should text him back and see how it goes,” and so he did.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

On Tuesday evening, exactly at 7:36 p.m., Regulus was sitting on a bench in front of his apartment building and waiting for a grey Mercedes to arrive.

After he answered James yesterday, they talked a bit and agreed that Drunk Regulus’ idea about meeting sooner was actually a pretty good one. So he sat there, checking his phone every three seconds, hoping to see a message that would say ‘I’m here’.

He picked it up again when a grey car parked next to him and the passenger’s window rolled down.

“Hi Regulus, come in,” James invited him with a warm smile painted on his lips.

As Regulus took the front seat, the other man reached to the back, pulling a small bouquet of purple carnations.

“What’s that?” Regulus asked, confused. James eyes widened at that.

“Well, I assumed it’s a date, and I thought it would be a nice gesture, but if I overstepped or misread—“

“No, no, no, absolutely! That is a date, and those are lovely, I just—I'm not used to getting flowers.” He could feel his cheeks starting to burn a little when James smiled wildly, like a happy Golden Retriever.

They finally drove away from Regulus' block, heading towards the city center. The radio played some soft, lofi music that, added to the soft humming of the engine, started lulling Regulus to sleep. James must’ve noticed, because he handed his unlocked phone to him.

“Choose the next song; I’ll pick something after you,” the bronze-skinned man told him. Regulus, extremely eager, grabbed the phone and typed in the title he needed to hear right now. Thankfully, the chill music ended shortly after, and an 80s synth-pop melody came on.

“Somebody runnin’ through the field/Somebody shoulda stayed home/Somebody pickin’ up the body of somebody they were gettin’ to know,” Regulus hummed softly to Matty’s lyrics. James whipped his head at a light speed and looked at him with wide eyes. Regulus gave him a questioning look in response.

“First of all,” James began, “is it the one about the school shooting?” Regulus nodded, smirking. “Okay, that’s surprising. Second of all, you have quite a nice voice.” Now Regulus wasn’t smirking, just smiling sheepishly.

After ‘Looking for somebody (to love)’ ended, there was a disco bit, and Reg wanted to whine as soon as he recognised the song. The only thing that stopped him was that sparkle in James’ eyes.

And then the other man started singing.

“OOH, YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE, HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!” and Regulus couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. “What? Don’t you like my vocals?” James chuckled, knowing damn well he sounded like a cat in heat.

“Oh no, your vocals are just as lovely as your smile,” the younger man giggled.

They continued to take turns choosing songs, becoming more and more comfortable, and singing louder and louder.

They reached the restaurant as Olivia’s ‘all-american bitch’ was coming to an end.

“Wait here,” said James, getting out of the car and running around it, just to open Regulus’ door. The older man held out his hand in a dramatic gesture.

Reg rolled his eyes, taking the hand and getting out as well.

“Such a gentleman,” he commented sarcastically, yet still, he could feel the warmth spread inside of his chest at this small move.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand, talking lightly about their favourite type of pasta. James gave the hostess his name, and the woman led them to their table, giving them two menus. Regulus scanned it in search of the cheapest meal, so he could afford it. The restaurant wasn’t really fancy, but it was still expensive.

“15 pounds for Carbonara? Is it made of gold?” He mumbled, but apparently not quietly enough, because James replied, ‘Don’t worry, it’s on me’. This caught Regulus off guard. “What do you mean? I asked you out; I should be the one paying.”

“Yeah, no,” was all James said, and the other man kept looking at him in confusion. “You’re a student; I work full time; it’s only fair if I pay,” he continued, looking up from his menu.

Regulus opened his mouth as if to argue, but quickly shut them back up. “Yeah, okay, you have a point.”

After that, they talked only about what they should order, settling on a lasagna for James, pumpkin ravioli for Reg, and a bottle of rosé.

“So,” the older man started. “What do you study?”

“Oh, um, painting. I’m in art school,” he mumbled in response, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m not gonna lie, I know it won’t get me a lot of money, but I love it. I can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means I’ll have to eat pesto pasta for the rest of my life.” He couldn’t exactly read James’ face; it looked kind of blank.

“Can I see any of your work?” he asked finally, sounding actually interested. So, of course, Regulus reached for his phone and started scrolling through it in search of the pieces he was most proud of. When James saw the one with the white stag running through a blue forest, he pointed at it and exclaimed, “That. I want that one in my living room,” and Regulus laughed lightly at him. “What? I mean it. How much do you want for it?”

“A thousand pounds!” the younger man kept chuckling.

“Deal.”

“Wait, are you for real?” He looked at the man opposite him in bewilderment, and as the other nodded with a smile, he couldn’t help but smile himself.

It was how the rest of the evening went—they ate, talked, drank wine, and talked some more. They left, again hand in hand, discussing a playlist for the ride home.

They were just a few blocks away from Regulus’ building when he decided to turn the radio down a little.

“Thank you,” he said, turning to James. “I had a really good time.”

“Would you like to do it again sometime?” The other man asked, also turning.

“Yeah, sometime,” he answered softly, pink blooming on his cheeks. He received a small smile back.

When they finally reached his block, Regulus didn’t get out immediately. Instead, he fully turned to face James and looked him deep in the eyes. The older man didn’t break eye contact; he only smiled brightly.

Please, kiss me. Please, kiss me. Please, kiss me.

James reached in his direction, brushing a loose curl from Regulus’ face back behind his ear. Instead of withdrawing his hand, James put it on his cheek, caressing it lightly with his thumb.

They stayed like that for a few seconds (or hours) before James broke the silence.

“Can I walk you to your flat?” and Reg just nodded in response.

They got out of the car the same way they did before. Holding hands, they walked up the stairs to the third floor. As they reached his door, Regulus turned to James again. And once more, James’ hand found its way to Reg’s cheek. The moment was tense, almost tangible. Until-

“Can I kiss you?” The older man whispered, like a secret.

Yesyesyes

Regulus only managed to nod once before he felt soft lips on his. It wasn’t an obscene kiss with a lot of teeth and tongs; it was gentle and sweet, like the first kiss in middle school. It didn’t last long either—far too quick for Reg’s liking. James rewarded him with another sweet kiss, this time on the forehead, before he pulled away with the same bright spark in his eye that appeared during ‘Dancing Queen’.

“Good night, Regulus,” he said softly, taking a small step back.

“Good night, Jamie—I mean James,” the older man chuckled, shaking his head.

“I like it; you can call me Jamie. I’ll see you soon.” And with that promise, he turned around and walked down the stairs, throwing just one last look at Regulus before disappearing on the floor below.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #the marauders #dead gay wizards #jegulus microfic #modern au #artist!regulus #doctor!james #1k words or more #by: allyeardepression #slytherin skittles

[orionremastered]

I really love the 911 texting post with the batboys! Quite accurate imo, lol.

If it's possible, may I request how the batboys react to their gf being pouty and touchy with them cuz they've been away for a long time for a big mission?

Thank you! Tho tbh damian would get more than ten assassins. like twenty minimum

Masterlist

Batboys Returning from a Long Mission

Dick Grayson

"You're back!"

Dick's tired eyes take in the apartment. It's clean— cleaner than it's ever been— and there's practically a feast on the kitchen counter.

You fling your arms around him, smiling into his chest. Slowly, he wraps his arms around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. "Missed you," he murmurs.

You squeeze him tighter and he winces in pain, letting out a hiss. Your head immediately snaps up and your boyfriend sighs. "I got stabbed— but it's not that bad, I promise— and had to get it stitched some. Relax."

Still, you frown and lift up his shirt, inspecting the stitches on his side.

"See? Fine."

"It doesn't look fine."

"Right... anyway, did you cook something? I'm starving."

You look back into his eyes and nod repeatedly, your own eyes sparkling.

Jason Todd

A soft thud sounds from behind you before arms wrap around your waist. "Hey," he whispers into your ear before kissing you on the cheek. "What're you doing?"

He's climbed through the window. Again.

"I'm about to go to work," you reply, twisting in his hold to return the embrace. "But I'll call in sick and spend today with you."

Jason pulls back and frowns. "No, you should go to work."

"But you just got back!"

"I can wait." Something in his eyes told you he really couldn't, but he wasn't going to say that.

You huff and begin dragging him to the couch. He complies with a sigh, lying down on the cushions and wrapping his arms around you when you lay on top of him.

"I missed you," you tell him.

"I missed you too."

Tim Drake

You wake up to Tim having draped himself on top of you during the night, his hand resting on your cheek. You pull him impossibly closer and he stirs, eyes opening to watch you with a questioning look.

"When did you get back?"

The sunlight streams through the curtains, bathing his face in a golden glow. A smile cracks onto his face before he buries it into your neck with a groan. "Late," is all he says, a chuckle in his tone.

"You should get some more sleep," you chide, running a hand through his dark hair.

"But—"

"I can make you breakfast or lunch for when you wake up again but you need rest," your tone leaves no room for argument, yet he scowls before putting his face back in the crook of your neck.

"Stay?"

"...okay, I'll stay."

Damian Wayne

There's nothing that made you smile more than seeing him again. And directly after you made him breakfast and let him rest, you dragged him out to a restaurant for lunch.

"I would've been happy with just eating at home," he tells you, holding your hand as you walk back to your apartment.

"But I wanted to do something nice for you," you pout. "And then you had to pay."

"I would've never let you pay in a million years," Damian says, face scrunching in disgust and the thought. "So it was me saying sorry for being gone so long."

You smile and lean into his side. "I'm just glad you're back."

He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your shoulders. "I'm glad to be back."

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut #jeremy allen white #ugh i love him #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #the bear x reader #i actually love how this turned out

[luveline]

You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.

Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.

No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!

thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

cw violence and injury

You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me. 

This is decidedly not fine. 

You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub. 

I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt? 

Breath warms your ear. “Boo.” 

The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them. 

You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.

Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”

A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away— 

You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch. 

“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts. 

“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!” 

You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.

“Oh,” you mumble queasily. 

The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask. 

Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown. 

“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks. 

“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow. 

“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.” 

You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily. 

“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?” 

“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.” 

Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off. 

“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.” 

“My head is swimming.” 

Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you. 

“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. 

“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.” 

Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?” 

“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask. 

“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.” 

“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.” 

Tara grins. “Your funeral.” 

You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers. 

“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful. 

Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.” 

“What?” 

His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.” 

“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash. 

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.” 

“Oh, well,” you say tiredly. 

Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur. 

You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.” 

He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[unboundprompts]

Got any romantic world war (1 or 2) prompts? Like ones a medic and treats them when they're wounded and it's love at first sight?

Love you and your prompts btw– x

Medic x Soldier Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"How are you feeling, soldier?" the medic huffed, rummaging through their bag for the bandages. The soldier, laid in bed with their arms crossed behind their head, smirked. "Better now that you're here."

The medic rushed across the barren field, bag slamming against their back as they raced to the fallen soldier. It was a drill gone wrong, some poor sap's stray bullet striking another solider. The medic pushed through the crowd surrounding the soldier, collapsing to their knees next to him. His face was scrunched with pain, sweat coating his dirty face. His eyes fell upon the medic, relief immediately flooding his senses. "Thank god," he groaned. "I've never been so happy to see someone before." The medic's heart skipped a beat, quickly getting to work to treat his wounds.

"You're a life saver," the soldier sighed. The medic felt the corner of their lips tug upwards. "That's what I'm here for."

The medic ripped open his uniform, revealing his chest and the wound that was pouring blood. They pressed a hand against it to stop the blood flow as they quickly rummaged through their bag to get the materials they needed. "You're not going to die today, soldier," the medic told him. "You hear me? You're not going to die. Not on my watch." A single tear fell from the soldier's eye.

"You're too careless," the medic scolded, wrapping the soldier's leg after stitching up his wound. "Am I careless?" the soldier asked, "or do I just want an excuse to see you?" The medic fixed him with a look, jostling his leg just a little so he winced. "You don't need a reason to come see me."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #creative writing #dialogue prompt #writeblr #prompt list #otp prompts #story prompt #soldier prompts #war prompts #caretaker prompts #historical writing prompts

[runicarbiter02]

Helllooo! Request are open and I'm running over here. Can I request hdc for alejandro vargas and ghost, being jealous because there crush is a little bit touching with another men. Thank youu honey.

A/N: This is definitely an interesting one! I'd be happy to write these for you, since you specifically specified them, I'll just do them for this one. :) I hope you enjoy, darling! I'm still learning how to write for Ale, so I apologize if he's a bit OOC! Also, thank you all for over 1,000 notes on my first headcanon request! I am so, so happy you all are liking the post! ~ Hannah

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

I imagine with Alejandro, this would be a slow burn friends to lovers sort of situation. You, Alejandro, and Rudy have all been friends since you all joined up together. Alejandro has always been on the flirtier side with most people, which is why whenever he flirts with you, you don't tend to think much of it. That's just who he is, right?

Los Vaqueros had just gotten a new member, a young, handsome man in his mid-twenties. He's conventionally attractive and funny, which some of the other women definitely admire, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Unfortunately - or fortunately, if you look at it a certain way - you were assigned to show him around the base and get him up to speed.

Cut to the both of you in the mess hall on base, chattering away. Alejandro sees the both of you, and his blood boils. Who does this hijo de puta think that he is?

What really pisses him off is when the young man leans in, saying something that makes you laugh and you playfully shove him away with a coy smile. Alejandro quickly storms out, furious with the young man, but furious with himself for getting so upset.

He doesn't realize you follow him out until he feels your hand on his shoulder.

"Ale? What's wrong, hermano?" If only you knew how much he hated that nickname coming from your lips.

When he turns, one look at how concerned you are, and all his frustrations come spilling from his lips. He's just about to brush it off as him being silly when you don't respond right away before a laugh is erupting from you.

"Ale, he's not into me. He's just friendly. I thought he was flirting with me earlier, but he let me know that he's no even interested in sexual stuff. He's ace," You reassure, and suddenly, Alejandro feels ridiculously stupid. But that falls aside when you stand on your toes and brush a kiss to his cheek. "Now come on, cariño, you need to eat." His eyes follow you as you return to the mess hall, and he's stunned into silence.

Maybe he feels a little less bad about getting jealous.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

This man hates his jealousy. Despises it.

But, it's a part of him nonetheless, and it's something he has to live with.

I imagine it as quiet, little things around base that really gets to him: you're a medic, a really good one at that, and the men absolutely love you for how kindly you treat them all. You have patience, but you aren't afraid to bark orders at them if they're acting out of place.

"MacTavish, if you rip your stitches one more time, I'll kick your ass into next fucking week." "Captain, I don't care if you have more paperwork to do, get your ass in bed before I drag you there myself." "Hold still or I will personally strap you to this cot myself, rookie."

Your feisty nature and take-no-shit attitude is absolutely what drew him to you initially. Cue almost a year of pining on his end, and on your end, but not to his knowledge.

The final straw that ultimately cracks his resolve is a young sergeant that is trying to flirt with you while you stitch up a bullet wound on his side. It's obvious you're just being polite as you accept his compliments and hum in response at his attempts at flirting, but it still rubs Simon the wrong way.

Simon's jealousy is quiet, boiling, settling in the center of his chest. Every touch of yours against the sergeant's skin merely stokes the flames, but he does nothing, continuing to brood in the corner. He waits until you're done, shooing the young man off with a half-assed threat of harm if he ruins his stitches. That's when you finally notice him.

"Ghost, what have I told you about lurking in my med bay?" You tease softly before taking note of the hard look in his eyes. Slowly, you put two and two together, chuckling softly. "Ah, I see. C'mere, big guy."

He isn't mad. Not at all. All he can think about is that young man, who has all he doesn't: charm, good looks, youth, and the blessing of a childhood unscarred by a demon of a father. Simon isn't so lucky.

He can't stop himself as he follows your instructions, stepping into your office and taking a seat at your desk as you close the door. You sit on top of your desk and smile down at him before you hold out your hand expectantly. He furrows his brows but gives you his hand anyway, grumbling something about how he "doesn't know where your filthy mitts have been."

As soft kisses are pressed to his knuckles, however, he goes quiet. "Silly, jealous man. Can't even see that I look at you the same way you look at me. Eyes of a hawk, my ass," You tease.

He turns every shade of red beneath his damn balaclava, and you're damn certain to tease him about it as he melts back into the seat.

Hijo de puta - Son of a bitch

Hermano - Brother

Cariño - Honey; dear

TAGLIST

@floral-force

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod headcanons #runic writes

[underoossss]

can I request a hurt/comfort with steve, where maybe the reader gets hurt in the upside-down and he is taking care of her? you are one of my favorite steve blogs!

I love a good old hurt comfort!!! And this time though r is hurt Steve is getting comfort cause that boy sure blames himself for no apparent reason. You’re so sweet thank you! It means the world to me you like the stories I write for y’all💖 I hope you like this! 1k.

••••

“I can’t lose her!”

Steve’s scream still echoes at the back of your mind, fuzzy and distant but it’s still there. The panic, the pain, the anger, they’re all there burned in your brain. You were in a dizzy state, half present and half gone after your last trip to the upside down had left you with a pierced leg and a bleeding wound. Vecna was gone which is all that mattered, yet instead of celebrating Steve hovered over you making a makeshift tourniquet for your leg with his belt – Nancy and Robin trying their best to calm him down. That's when he snapped, voice raw and cracking with emotion; it was clear he didn't mean to, but if you were in his shoes you're sure you'd have done the same. You wanted to reassure him, tell him you were fine, but things were hazy after that.

Steve's quiet now, lying down on his bed next to you.

His torso is bandaged just like your leg; his wounds clean and treated, yours got ten stitches covered with two layers of gauze and clear medical tape. He's done nothing but look after you since you got back, making sure you had everything you needed, driving you to his place and helping you get upstairs. He even washed your hair, gentle and caring and careful, pretending he's alright when you know he isn't. His hands still shake no matter how much you hold onto them, you can tell he's holding back tears from the way he clears his throat before speaking. Yet he only wants to take care of you.

"You should try to get some rest." Steve says, one hand gentle on your cheek as his thumb rubs softly at your skin. "It's late."

You glance sideways at him, his face is golden in the glow of the nightstand lamp. Hair almost dry from his shower earlier, eyes red-rimmed, a soft grin that's holding everything back. You know this boy the same way he knows you. "I can't sleep lying on my back." You whisper over a frown.

"We can figure it out." Steve's smile is a fraction more genuine this time, always happy to help you. "Here, let me sit up."

It takes some minutes but Steve rearranges the pillows and helps you sit up, mindful of your injured leg. He lies back against the headboard with you slumped sideways against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and patched up leg extended in front of you. It's not the most comfortable position but it's better than before, especially now that you have your arms around Steve.

"I'm not hurting you?" You ask quietly, closing your eyes at Steve's touch rubbing up and down your arm.

"No," You feel Steve shake his head. "I like this better."

You snuggle closer to him, wanting to be as much as possible as someone who thought would lose the other only hours ago. Steve hums and kisses your temple which makes you look up at him. When you see the tears he's holding back, you break.

"I'm so sorry Stevie." You mumble through an aching throat. "I didn't mean to get hurt and scare you like that."

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. "You don't have to say sorry."

"I wanted to tell you I would be okay, reassure you that I would be." Your words are rushed through your tears, lips pulling downwards with sorrow. "It all happened so fast."

Steve's arms go around you and pull you closer, his shoulder shaking as he cries into your hair. You'd squeeze him tight in return if he wasn't injured, so you settle for kissing the middle of his chest as you cry with him. The idea of the roles being reversed makes your blood freeze with panic. "I thought I was going to lose you." Steve confesses, "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

"You'll never lose me." You pull pack to look at him in the eyes, red and full of tears just like yours. "I will always fight to stay by your side, Steve. I can't even imagine being without you; if I can keep you from going through that, you know I will. Just like I know you'd fight too."

Steve closes his eyes and nods, "Every time."

You grab his face in both your hands. "I love you, so much."

He looks calmer when he opens his eyes, still shaken but better than before. "I love you too."

"Tell me what you need?" You ask in a whisper, wiping the last of his tears away and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Please, if I can make it better I'd like to."

"I just need you." Steve brings you towards his chest again with his arms around your waist. "This is all I need."

You look up at him and smile when you see some of that previous fear melt away from his face. Your beautiful boy slowly becoming himself again. "I can give you a kiss too. I don't think we've ever gone this long without kissing you know."

"Tell me about it." Steve's smile appears then, before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x fem!reader

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Regarding the 5k, CONGRATULATIONS!! Its completely well deserved if not more! I started following not so long ago but I'm so happy for you and the fact that I get to celebrate this with you!

That aside... May I request. I'm in dare need for fluff about ANYone of the tf141, that can be your choice, like, who do you think would like/fit this the most. If not, preferably Price or Soap. I need to pamper this damn men!!!!!!

Heres the idea: whoever (?) comes home late for a deployment, super tired and newly injured, but to his surprese, you're still up. Upon seeing him you decide to fill the bath and pamper him! Help him wash and stuff, treat him RIGHT (?).

This can totally include cute banter and even some nsfw, given the situation hehe.

Again, I love your wrinting and I'm super happy for you!!

—Get In

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞

You don’t think he expected you to be up this late, judging by the way his eyebrows lightly snapped up at the sight of you on the couch with the throw blanket over your shoulders. But he was a fool for thinking you wouldn’t wait when he had called you not five hours earlier to explain he was back in-country. 

“Love?” John asks, confused. He looks at the clock on the far wall and clicks on the living room light. You blink quickly, the TV having been your only source of illumination. “What are you doing up?” 

“What kind of a question is that?” Yawning, you speak the words through it, standing and padding over with eager feet. When you get in front of his imposing frame, you huff and tilt your head to him. “Did you expect to find me in bed, Captain? I should be offended that you find me so weak of mind.”

Your easy tease brings a smirk to John’s lips even as the bags under his eyes and the fresh stitches in his back pull painfully. He doesn’t want to worry you.

John grunts and grabs at your arm, grumbling through a growing smile as he drags you into him. 

“Never said that.” You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist. John lightly stiffens, but you barely notice because of the sudden sweep his scent has on your focus. Like an ardent wave in an ocean, you sigh and pay no mind to the sway.

“I know you didn’t, Handsome.” His small wince tips you off when you squeeze him, and you immediately pull back as the man curses himself.

The mood shifts.

“...John?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he sighs, grabbing you by the cheeks and pressing his lips into your forehead, breathing softly into your skin. You both stay like that for a minute before he utters again. “Just a scratch, Love, yeah?” 

“Is it bad,” you ask instantly, reaching for the hem of his shirt before he grabs your hand delicately and smiles in the way only he can. 

“Easy,” he whispers. “S’not bad, Love. Just aches a bit when I move. Sutures are pullin’.”

Your face falls. “Sutures?” 

John’s lips thin out under his beard hair. He knows he can’t get out of this and grunts his answer. “Shrapnel. Got it all out, but I’m off until they heal.” 

“Oh, John,” you sigh, tilting your head at him in pain as you hesitate to touch him again for fear it might hurt. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head from side to side. “No, Sweetheart, there’s nothing that you need to do for me, eh? Bein’ back here is better than the medicine those muppets tried to give me.”  

“Have you eaten?” You dote, moving back and taking him lightly by the sides of his biceps. Eyes snap up and down—suddenly more awake than you had been previously at the thought of John being injured. 

The sides of the man’s eyes wrinkle and he chuckles, capturing your cheeks before he leans into you as you make a slight noise of shock. He presses a firm kiss directly to your lips, not letting up until you sigh with reassurance and sag with comfort. 

John pulls back to tap his forehead against yours, a hand slipping to drag your body into his. You conform readily to his bulk, humming as he smirks.

“As much as I love the feeling of you touchin’ me, Sweetheart,” he teases, “I’ll be needing to clean up before bed.” 

You breathe out a silent sigh, still concerned but understanding that he’s tired—there could be more of this tomorrow. It’s late. 

“You’re dead on your feet,” you utter, moving to kiss his neck as he nearly purrs and slumps into you. “Let me spoil you.”

“...Don’t need to ask me twice,” he mutters, gazing down at you with a deep expression of love as his cheeks heat to a light shade of crimson.

You smile and move back, grabbing the man’s wrist to bring him to the bathroom for a hot bath. He stares at the back of your head as you do, shifting his hand to let his fingers be intertwined with yours and the heat of your flesh.

When you’re both in the bathroom, you tug at his shirt again, giving a soft order of, “off,” before you go and grasp the water handle, twisting the plug closed. John chuckles, shaking his head, and grasps his shirt casually—pulling up until his skin goes taut. 

He flinches slightly, grunting, but the strands of his hair still ruffle as he shuffles the fabric off and drops it to the floor. As you get the right temperature of water, he unbuckles his belt and slides it out of its loops. 

He strips down to nothing, you humming across the room as you go to grab a towel from the wrack, wiping your hand on it as the tub begins to fill quickly.

You look at John as he humphs and runs a hand over his beard. 

“Let me see,” your voice says over the water as you walk up to him, shifting behind John’s form and letting your hand trail from the front of his abdomen to the side of his waist. The man shivers at the scrape of your nails, eyes fluttering shut before you find the mess of his back. 

Red skin is stitched together as you carefully pull at the old gauze, small bits of blood trapped in white before you toss them to the counter. You close your eyes tightly and fight back tears. 

They were tiny but obviously deep from the amount of red and damage that was done to dig the shrapnel out—irritated even hours later.

“What are you thinking back there, then?” You press your lips into the wideness of his shoulder blades and breathe into him; he looks over his shoulder. 

“That my Lover should be more careful with himself,” you level. He knows how you feel, but even your insistence wouldn’t change his mind about this topic.

You move to turn off the water, kissing his skin again. He follows, walking over with heavy steps. John leans in close to your ear, pulling you over to slide his hand under your shirt.

“Join me?” He raises a brow, and you nod tinily. There would be no need to convince you. 

The both of you slip into the bath moments later, and you keep behind him to take the water and slip it along his wounds to clean them, digits caressing over the stitches and rubbing out the hard muscle. John grunts before he leans his spine back into you. 

Your eyes blink down in shock as he spreads his weight and lays it on your chest, body limp in the water as, smiling, you spread your fingers into his hair; also taking the time to slouch and let the wall be your backrest. 

John leans his face into your chin, kissing it reverently as you massage his scalp with dripping fingers. 

“Comfy?” You ask, everything silent beyond the sound of your shared breathing and the ripple of the bath.

John closes his eyes and lets you touch him as you see fit, letting you ease his aches and pains with a brush of your flesh and your lovely lips.

“Heavenly,” he breathes into your neck. 

You hum and kiss his forehead as if your lips could heal his wounds. If you tried hard enough, you hope one day they could.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #john price cod #john price #captain john price #cod john price #john price call of duty #captain price x reader #captain price #price x reader #price mw2 #price cod #captain johnathan price #x fem!reader #call of duty x reader

[koemiexists]

Okay strange question but do you do fluff? If not disregard what I'm about to type... if you do, could you do an Alastor fluff fic with a premise of femme!reader being upset over a break up or something and him just like talking shit about the ex-partner for most of it to make them feel better? I feel like that would be cute/funny.

alastor & reader fluff fic

summary: your ex boyfriend dumped you, but thankfully alastor is there to comfort you in his odd twisted way word count: 2.1k a/n: so i sprained my ankle by falling down the stairs and landing on it and that's why i popped this out so fast (haha just like my ankle popped out... let me stop) anyways the ao3 curse is real + ambiguous ending to alastor x reader?? didn't know if u want that so it's open ended AND i did this request bc it's easy rather than figuring out synonyms for the word cock even though i'll still use it 20 more times...

“Well my dear lady, I never seen you in such distress before, it is quite the shock, especially with how often your features present a grand old smile!”

You sniffle, looking at Alastor through teary eyes. “I would like to be left alone, please.” You murmur, looking away from the Radio Demon. Any other time, you wouldn’t have minded, but you just came back from the worst date night ever.

Alastor strolled right up to you, plopping down next to your shaking frame, his grin even wider. His eyes, however, were glaring daggers through you. You felt yourself shrink back, but he only stayed that well, as if searching for something.

“Don’t be such a downer, dear, I just wanted to know about your night! What ever happened to you in such a somber state? A beautiful young woman just like yourself should only ever be happy, and not in a mood of fitful anguish!”

You rolled your eyes. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

Alastor didn’t pause in his commentary when you had interrupted, raising his voice a little louder. “That circus? Why dear, I remember hearing you complain to Angel Dust about that fellow’s lack of sizable packing in his groin! Ha-ha!”

Letting out a small giggle, you turned to fully face him. “Yeah, I didn’t feel a fucking thing when he tried to ‘make love’ with me.”

“Did you not tell our dearest Charlie about how you were his very first lover? Ha! And he chose to break your gorgeous heart for what? Is he such a man of ill manners to not even grace you with reasoning?”

“Ugh,” You started, groaning. “He said that he found someone else- and get this!”

Alastor’s eyes widened a little, leaning in, thoroughly interested with what you were going to say.

“The woman he’s now fucking isn’t even someone higher up in status than me- no it’s a fucking female imp! I hate him!”

A mock gasp came from Alastor, and he held your hand. “He’s with a harlot? Disgraceful, over your modest and intelligence? My dear friend, Rosie, she’d eat him right up, I tell you! (Name), he’d be nothing but bones, clean and picked! Just say the word, maybe I’ll even eat a leg! Ha-ha...”

You smiled at him, your tears fully gone now. “Thank you, Alastor.” You started, grinning up at the Radio Demon. “I really needed that.

“So no eating up that detested man?”

Smiling wryly, you gave him a sly look. “Maybe,” You said, glancing at the door. “Or wouldn’t it be better to make him jealous?” Alastor’s grin widened, green stitches at the end as his eyes formed into radio dial’s. His antler had elongated, and despite his form being more than scary, you only smirked. “I like the way you think, darling.”

#fluff #reader insert #hazbin hotel #oneshot #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff #light angst #drabble #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff

[multifandomwhore-003]

Deal? —Scrap

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x female! reader

Genre(s): smut, fluff, a bit angsty if you look closely

Summary: Finding a past love in the bedroom of your best friend's parents can lead to a lot more than just a quick catch-up.

Warnings: smut, fingering, no condoms (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, a bit of breeding link maybe.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 join taglist here

A/N: As much as I wanna be proud of this for being smut and therefore out of my comfort zone, I can't, you see this is what made me realize just how rusty I am in writing,like the fingers are creaking an screeching. Anyways, I tried my best, so... enoy?

Gif credits to whom it belongs

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE,YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

You could say it began right this second, finding yourself wrapped in a perfume that no longer had notes of peach and pear, the hours you had spent wandering around the crowd salted it with cigarettes and perhaps a vodka you shouldn't spending time thinking where it proceeded from. Taking a deep breath to relax was, a bad idea, was it the alcohol or this newfound smell that produced that wooziness? It was just for a couple of seconds at least since you could focus more clearly on the four walls you just stepped in, far too big for it being your old best friend's childhood room.

Reaching the windows to scan the city through the glass, glistening with passing cars every once in a while.

"Julie, you crazy bitch," you chuckled remembering how she had just recently bought the whole place to herself, including everything inside it, wanting to neglect her parents as much as they did her back when she was far too young to thirst revenge.

You could tell she hadn't changed anything, the side tables slightly covered with dust still, and the framed pictures of the "happy" couple on the shelves. She hadn't even dared to pull out her father's Cuban cigars she was always so curious about, the plastic around the rim being intact. Your curiosity peeked remembering her mother this time, the beautiful clothes that adorned her seemingly flawless frame, you paced quite rapidly to the walk-in closet, flicking through the infinite number of shoes and bags, finally reaching the hangers.

You didn't think twice before pulling out the most exquisite structure you ever laid your eyes on, lines curving in all the preferable places, covered in red hand-sewn crystals that matched the rest of the smooth fabric, invisible stitching, it was art. —It could pass as a Mugler— you thought, perhaps it was knowing none of Julie's things were ever cheap. You hesitated for a second contemplating your next actions.

"Fuck it," you began getting rid of the pink that had been covering your body the entire time, "She did say she was gonna gift me some anyway," you murmured. You could jump in excitement seeing how absolutely mesmerizing you looked, reflecting light that could easily be produced by your smile alone.

Before you had time to reach your phone from the bed the door closed, followed by rapid exhaling, you furrowed your brows, worrying more about the posible anxious someone.

"Are you okay?" you stepped out slowly.

The man jumped slightly, "Sorry, I'll leave," he began his exit.

"Don't, it's okay, you can stay here," you lowered your voice placing a hand on his arm carefully, "Do you need anything? Do you wanna leave?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm just-" he tried recovering his breath.

"It's okay take your time," you granted him a slight smile.

"I had to get out of there," he grinned, slightly more relaxed.

"What happened?"

"I was being ambushed,"

"By who?"

"Everyone,"

"Oh shit," you said a bit shocked, "What are you famous or something?" you tried to joke.

"I- I don't like using that word," he finally turned around.

"Okay, we'll use popular then, how's does that sound?"

"Way better," he was fully comfortable now.

"Ok Mr. Popular, do you wanna stay here the whole night? Or I can take you to the stairs and call you and Uber to be more discreet,"

"In that dress?" he pointed out.

"Oh! This isn't mine I kinda just borrowed it for a second, I'll take it off then," you simplified.

"Please don't, I was just messing with you, I'm Oscar by the way," he extended his hand as a motor raced by lighting his face.

You widened your eyes in a very pleasant surprise, "Oh my god, I knew the voice was familiar, fucking Pastry you should've started there asshole!" you pushed his chest.

With no time to ask you where you knew to call him that, his mind also clicked, "Y/N?"

"Yes, bitch! Oh my god!" you hugged him, "It's been so long, what are you doing here?! How did Julie even contact you?" your smile grew wider.

"Instagram!"

"Makes sense," you laughed embracing him again, "Look at you! You're a man!" you grabbed his shoulders, "Still got a baby face I see," you moved your hands to the edges of his face.

"Rude," he playfully pushed you away.

"Who am I kidding, back then I defended you to death whenever anyone pointed that out," you shrugged.

"They did?!" he found a new offense to that statement.

"Of course they did! Especially my parents,"

"Oh yeah, they never liked me did they?"

You just shook your head making him smile more.

"I would aks you how you've been but I already know, Mr. Rookie of the Year," you mocked, flipping your hair.

"I've been great, you? Did you end up marrying Zach Efron in the end?"

"Hilarious, truly," you squinted your eyes.

"You used to cry laughing at my jokes," he passed by you to sit on the bed.

"Yeah, well," you followed making him move to sit by his side, "In my defense a) I was madly in love with you," you rolled your eyes, "and b)My sense of humor was simpler at the precious age of 15"

"You were crazy about me," he nodded.

"Okay," you placed a hand on his face, "At least I didn't dedicate you a race on international TV which let me remind you! You lost," chuckled at the hilarious memory.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that!" he slightly slapped his thigh.

"I sure as hell didn't! It was the last race I ever watched,"

"Really?" his head turned suddenly.

"Yes, really, by the time you were on the next one we were beyond over,"

"That's right," he closed his eyes, "I'm sorry for ruining motorsport for you,"

"It's okay," you slapped the air, "The heartbreak was far worse than never having to watch you again,"

"You broke up with me I was the one who was completely shattered,"

"Hey! So was I,"

He crossed his arms, "For how long exactly?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, "A week," you looked away.

"Ouch, I suffered all summer Christmas thanks to you,"

"I'm sorry," you scrunched up your nose.

"Wanna know something embarrassing?"

"More embarrassing than losing that race? I don't think there is anything that can be better than that,"

"What if there is?" he cocked up his head.

"I'll ..." you thought for a second, "I'll tell you my most embarrassing story, deal?"

"Deal," he accepted, "When I wrote to Santa I told him to gift me the golden locket you saw in your favorite movie, the Nutcracker one with Barbie so I could give it to you because all I wanted was your heart back again. Imagine how much I cried when instead all I got was an Xbox,"

You placed a hand to his heart, "Aw, that's adorable, but yeah it sounds pretty embarrassing considering your parents had to read that,"

"Your turn now,"

"Okay, but after that you can't tease me about it,"

"Alright,"

"After we broke up, the first time I kissed someone else, we were at a gas station, and when he bought me some gummy bears as I thanked him I said 'thank you, Oscar'"

He tried to bite down his laughter.

"He absolutely flipped, and dumped me that night in front of my parents who were waiting by the window,"

"Wow," he gulped clenching his jaw, "That's- That's rough," he cleared his throat.

You nodded slowly, "Humbling experience for sure," you sighed resting your head on him, "So, let me guess, you escaped the people who wanted to take pictures with you," you pointed at the door.

"Don't tell me about it,"

"I thought all you wanted was to be The Great Oscar Piratri," you exaggerated with your hands.

"Not great at all to be harassed all the time,"

"Yeah, sounds awful to have so many fans and money..."

"That part's fun," he admitted, "But everything else is just a bit of a nightmare,"

"I'm sorry, but you know what," you tried to lighten the mood, "What I'm absolutely most sorry about is that we..." you stood up taking his hand, "Never ended up living right... there!" you pointed at the most beautiful building of the view.

"Well for starters, you never married me,"

"I did! Well not legally but we had vows and everything,"

"And my cousin as our officiant, what a mess that was,"

"And all for a wedding night, that we never had,"

"I still can't believe we faked a wedding just so we could have sex,"

"To be fair, back then we were good children who followed God's rules," you whipped your index finger dramatically as you turned to see him.

"Your parents were awful,"

"About us yes, but you have to admit they weren't too bad about everything else,"

"No, they just made you break up with me after three years, nothing big really," he pouted sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, really, I never wanted that to happen, I was just- Young and brainwashed," you cupped his face, "And also, the next three years we spent hating each other didn't help your image so much," you tilted your head.

"Yeah, sorry for egging your house those Halloweens,"

"Don't apologize, me kidnapping your dog for a week was way out of line,"

"Archie is still alive, you know?"

"Really? That's great!"

"He's a bit old, but staying strong,"

"He better be, he tackled me down a couple of times when I visited you,"

"I still have those videos," he said proudly.

"No, you don't,"

"Yes, my mom still has my old phones,"

"Why though?" you complained.

"It's never been easy for her to let go of stuff,"

"Yeah, I remember she always invited me over to yours while you weren't around, but I just couldn't do it, I felt way too guilty,"

"I have to ask," he let out, "If it weren't for your parents, how long do you think we would've lasted?"

"I'm not sure, but I can tell you that back then I wanted you- I- I wanted this," you signaled between the two of you, "Forever," you grinned, nostalgia and regret adorning your entire semblance.

"I can rest peacefully now," he caressed your forearms.

"Why?"

"I had a piggy bank for our future engagement ring,"

You opened your mouth slightly, "I had a savings account for that Rolex you always wanted,"

"Guess what?"

"What?"

He showed you his wrist, "I got it on my own,"

"Show-off," you spat.

"It's better than stealing," he looked down at the garment adorning you, long forgotten under this conversation.

"I wasn't stealing, I was just- trying it on," you defended.

"It looks good,"

"I know,"

"Now who's the show-off?"

"At least you get to keep it,"

"Hurts doesn't it,"

"Fuck off, you can win all the races you want, but I bet you still can't beat me at wrestling," you got close to his face before walking slowly to the other side of the room.

"Is that a dare?"

"I don't know, if you're brave enough it is, if you're a coward then it isn't," you crossed your arms.

"I have muscles now, it wouldn't be fair," he added with cockiness.

"Don't patronize me, I do ballet, my legs are far stronger than your arms,"

"Bet," he stepped closer.

"Yeah, bet!" you clapped your hands before giggling as you began this ridiculous dance.

If you both hadn't been laughing the entire time you probably would've seriously hurt yourselves given how careless you were being, throwing each other on the bed and the floor over and over again. After a couple of minutes, the laughter stopped leaving you as panting messes still struggling for dominance, it wasn't until he laid on top of you that you considered giving up.

"I told you, I had muscles," he paused in between words.

"And I-" you gathered yourself as quickly as you could straddle his legs and with much adrenaline and heat flip him over, pushing his hands down to completely immobilize him, "I told you I did ballet asshole," You grinned devilishly in victory, "Ready to surrender?"

"Yeah, fine, I'm done," he truly wasn't, yet the sight of you in that position alone told him to stand down.

"All that driver training for what? Still, lose to your ex-girlfriend?" you let go of his hands only.

He chuckled under his breath, struggling to stand on his elbows, "Well, when she's the one that goes away, you have to let her win, right?" he confessed.

You licked your lips without knowing how to respond, however, being fully aware that something about you not removing yourself from his body told you that this was no longer part of a friendly conversation, perhaps it never really was.

—The one that got away— he had just described everything that needed to be said in one simple phrase.

"Sorry," he began to realize his words getting  his back to straighten up, "I didn't mean to make it awkward,"

"You didn't," you were incredibly doe-eyed as you met his gaze, "Just shut up before you do," you pulled him by the collar of his shirt kissing him. He knew how to respond, as he immediately hugged your waist with one hand, resting the other one on your thigh right before the hem of the dress.

"Carry me to the bed Oscar," you gasped in between his mouth, to which he obeyed, carefully lying your bodies to fir perfectly, like you always knew they did. Your tounge slipped in between to which he groaned in your mouth, fingers begining to inch closer to where all his teenage wet dreams met.

"Do it, please," you whispered, "Don't wait longer than you already have, just do it,"

As much as a part of him wanted to treasure this moment as much as he could, his more carnal side acted on behalf of your encouragement, circling your clit with his thumb as you moaned into him. You slightly thanked you were fucking him until now, a way more experienced and knowledgable version of the man you'd thought to be the love of your life.

He traveled to the back of your ear right, knowing more than guessing your sweet spot was still there, confirming it by how you lightly arched your back, pulling on his hair as he left a mark you were probably gonna regret so much later, pulling back to allow him access to your neck and jawline.

"You're so fucking wet,"

"Proud of yourself for that?"

"A lot,"

You could feel him grinning against your collarbone, slowly feeling the purple stamps, trailing to the top of your breasts that the dress ever so slightly allowed out, he contemplated his options for a moment, admiring your body in such a piece.

"Rip it off if you want," you mumbled.

"As tempting as it sounds, I want you to wear it for next time, then I'll rip it off, deal?"

—Next time— what twisted grave had you dove yourself into?

"Deal," you nodded.

"Now be a doll, and help yourself out of it,"

"Jesus Oscar, did you always have that under your sleeve?" you unzipped the sides.

"I saved it just for you," he pressed his thumb harder making you moan louder.

You slipped it over your head, tossing it away, "Keep saying stuff like that and maybe I'll marry you for real, deal?"

"Deal," he said against one of the nipples before beginning to suck on it.

"Multitasking motherfucker," you groaned feeling his middle finger pumping slowly into you, he moves his hands around for a living, of course, he was good at fingering, way too fucking good.

All kinds of sounds bounced off the walls and into your ears, sounds you only ever imagined on those lonely nights after the breakup, and so did he. More of your moand as he added his index finger drowned in the vibrations of the music for the outside to never find out how awfully loud you being for him, just for him; especially if his thumb switched to eight circles as he focused on your other tit.

"I'm close- I'm so close Oscar," you begged, "Go faster," you gulped, "Please,"

The most pornographic sound escaped his lips, "Beg again, beg for me," you obeyed without a second thought as he also did as told, keeping his pace as you reached your orgasm, whether you screamed or just raised your voice, no one will ever know, the music from outside and the cars rushing by braiding it in. By the time you realized, his belt clinked on the carpet floor, feeling as if in one motion everything in between you two was now discarded.

"I'm on the pill by the way," you whispered.

"Wasn't planning on having children until that wedding of ours, deal?" his tip rubbed against.

"Deal," you answered without ever crossing your mind how actually terrifying the idea of being pregnant was, just to have him inside you you would've signed a prenup right then and there.

He joined your lips again as he slipped inside, filling you up to the brim, with an unnecessary elevated ego that this whole situation resulted in, he thrusts into you mercilessly, you couldn't complain, his hands supporting his body on your hair, tangling all around the cover and his skin. Now being completely shameless it seemed as if you were competing to see who could make the most noise. You both came undone almost at the same time, Oscar having to battle with himself to get hard again as you followed his lead.

"I wasn't joking about next time," he mindlessly whispered in the crook of your neck.

"Neither was I, my place next time, deal?"

"Deal"

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri angst

[llonelygoddess]

Ned Stark wife headcannons ❤️👀

Being Ned Starks wife

A/N: Thank you for the request!! I'm always so excited to get these<3 I also added what I thought would be a cute wedding dress! Feel free to send more requests!

Marrying Ned after Catelyn's death was not easy and you knew this coming into the relationship. Your father was close friends with Ned, so to help stave off unwanted advances from other houses he offered you.

You knew Ned didn't love you, that this was solely a political move to strengthen both your houses, but you refused to let that get to you. This was your life now and you'd do your duties to the best of your ability.

The first few months after the wedding Ned requested that you slept in separate rooms and you respected his decision. It gave you time to settle into the home but left you quite lonely.

You found yourself watching over the younger children. Rickon, being too young to really know his mother, latches onto you quickly as well as Bran. While Bran knew his mother, he confided in you that they never got to spend time with her the way you were able to. This told you all you needed to know to take care of these kids and hopefully make your husband happy. 

In the mornings before breakfast, you made it a habit to greet Ned and wish him well on his daily activities. With Rickon on your hip, you and Bran would spend time reading in the library until the older boys came to train with him. Watching them shoot arrows and spar together was exciting, and more than once you found yourself cheering them on. 

You didn’t see it but soon the boys started competing to see who could get you to cheer for them.

Some days you'd sit in on Sansa and Arya's stitching lessons and honestly you could use the lessons as well. Showing off your horrendous stitches made both of the girls laugh and feel better about their own. Sansa felt a sense of pride whenever you complimented her stitching and once gifted you a beautiful flower bouquet she made.

Arya, of course, felt that once again she was being looked over for her sister. You could easily spot the hurt within her and went out of your way to compliment her on the things she was good at even if they weren't "proper".

One day, she sneaks off to the training area and tries shooting arrows. You discover her and instead of calling her back inside you decide to assist her with the little knowledge you’ve picked up from the boys. The first time she gets a bullseye she runs up to you giving you a tight hug. You both hear clapping in the distance and notice Ned standing off to the side with a brilliant smile on his face. 

That night Ned asks you to his room for the first time since your wedding night. It caught you off guard but you gathered yourself and made your way over. It started off innocent with the both of you laughing and sharing stories about the kids. Then the discussion of your wedding night comes up, and how it was never truly consummated (because he’s a gentleman and didn’t want to pressure you). A glass of wine later and you both find yourselves under the sheets entangled in each other.

From that day forward you started sleeping in his room together. 

The way this man can balance all his responsibilities and still be doting and loving is crazy.

Life with Ned is peaceful. He wakes you up in the morning with a kiss on the cheek, and prefers you to call him Ned in private. It wasn’t often you both had alone time but when you did it was spent reading to each other or talking about the day you had. He loved watching you with the kids, especially the younger ones.

On more than one occasion he’s had to break up a disagreement between the kids only to find out it’s about who can spend more time with you.

He couldn't help but smile at the small piece of happiness he's created with you here.

#ned stark x reader #ned stark #eddard stark #ned stark headcanons #game of thrones #got #game of thrones headccanons #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones preferences #got headcanons #got x reader #got fanfiction

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader & Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : For Hyunjin : reader has a broken leg ; reader gets hit by a passenger van ; mentions of blood ; Hyunjin isn't really an asshole, he's just upset ; it's really fluffy at the end though ; For Felix : reader gets stabbed ; reader is in the hospital ; reader gets stitches ; Word Count : For Hyunjin : 2.9k For Felix : 5.8k (In total 8.7k) Request : @slayhyunjin wants the Hyunlix version of this and that is what they will get!! A/N : I hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry for making you wait so long for it : ' (( WENT ALL IN ON THE FELIX ONE! PLEASE ENJOY!!!

Hyunjin

He was on a mini tour, at least, that’s what you called it when he had to perform concerts closer to home. He was still gone, but he was in the country and it meant that he’d be home sooner which was always exciting. It was the one thing, the only thing you loved about when he went away… The moment he’d come back and it was like he had been gone for an eternity instead of just a couple months. 

You loved surprising him when he came home too, saving up all the money you made at your work to buy him little things to add to his art room. New paint sets, a new canvas, new sketch pads and pencils. Anything that would make him happy, and he always got excited over the smallest things, but seeing the way his eyes would sparkle when he saw the new materials on his desk made the wait for him worth it. 

This particular trip you had saved up enough money to buy him a brand new watercolor paint set, something that you knew he had his eyes on for a while. Luckily the art store was only a couple blocks away and you enjoyed the walk from the apartment to the shop, always stopping by the little cafe on your way there to get an iced americano, it made you feel closer to him when drinking his favorite drink and picking up his favorite things. 

Spring time was your favorite time to walk, the scents of fresh flowers blooming and new leaves budding on the trees. It also meant the occasional rain that you were always prepared for, your umbrella hanging from your wrist as you walked along fairly busy sidewalks. 

You had been in the store when it started raining, and you were planning on waiting it out close to the entrance like everyone else was, but this particular storm decided to last much longer than you had planned, so you ventured out. It’s not that the rain bothered you, it was more so that you didn’t want the set that you had bought to be potentially ruined. 

It was crazy how things can go from being so perfect so fucked in a matter of seconds. First you’re walking across the street because the crosswalk light tells you it’s okay, and the next you’re being hit by a passenger van that didn’t even have the common decency to stop and make sure you were okay. At least they didn’t continue straight through and just completely run you over. They had simply gone over your leg which was still excruciatingly painful, but it definitely could have been worse. 

Now, a lot of people might be wondering, why not call Hyunjin and let him know what happened?! And while it’s a very good question, you knew how he was. God, his heart was so big, his love for you was so strong, he’d try to get home to you so fast that he’d probably make the journey on foot if there wasn’t a flight that would get him to the nearest airport available right then and there. Not just that, but he’d stop at nothing to find whoever it was that hurt you, he’d track them down to the ends of the planet just to yell at them for hurting his love. 

He was busy, you didn’t want to bother him with the silly little accident, and what was important was the fact that somehow, by some miracle, the watercolor set had survived. After going to the hospital and getting your leg casted up and making sure that nothing else was broken during the accident, you got to go back home and place the set in the center of his desk with the giant bow on it, anticipating the moment that he finally came home and saw it. 

What you realized while trying to perfectly set up the watercolor set and make it look pretty was that it was a pain in the ass to try to walk on your cast, although the doctor had already strongly advised you not to do that… You thought that it was just a general thing he had to say to everyone. No wonder they were so hell bent on making sure you had someone at home to help you around the house the first couple of days. You couldn’t do shit. 

A surprise visit home, that’s what he was planning. He had been talking to the guys about it for a solid week, and now it was the day. He stood at the front door, taking a deep breath before letting himself in, only to be met with the apartment in such a state of disarray that he had to do a double take to make sure he was heading into the right apartment. 

Following the double take he saw you on the couch, that’s how he was 100% sure he was at the right place, but it didn’t make any sense. There were bowls of food and empty cups and take-out bags everywhere around you, and you were just laying on the couch all cozied up like you didn’t care. When he first met you, you were so organized, so clean, and not to the point of needing everything to be absolutely perfect but you surely weren’t like this. Maybe it was an act, and maybe the house looked like this every time he went on tour. The only reason it looked so clean when he came back all the other times was because he had told you he was coming. 

“It’s… It’s such a mess…” He muttered to himself as he stepped deeper into the apartment, his heart sinking as he thought about how he almost left Kkami in your care. “There’s just… Mess everywhere…” He continued to talk to himself as he continued to look around. It looked like there hadn’t been any sort of cleaning done in weeks. This is the house that he lived in… He just couldn’t believe it. 

You had been sleeping so soundly, but he tripped over one of your crutches, causing it to fall over and hit the floor, the sudden noise causing you to jolt awake. “Hyunjin! You’re home! You wouldn’t believe the week I had.” You said, your smile bright as you looked at him over the back of the couch. How could you still be so cheerful when surrounded by such filth? You must be used to it… But he wasn’t. He couldn’t live like this, and he surely couldn’t be with someone who regularly lived like this, who pretended to be someone they clearly weren’t when around him. 

“I was just leaving.” He rushed the words out as he walked back towards the door. “I can’t be here… It’s just… Disgusting… I have to go.” He excused as he quickly walked out, accidentally slamming the door behind him. That was the irony of it though, the fact that your crutches had been the item that he tripped on, yet his mind had been so fogged by the filth that he didn’t even think to question what they were doing there. He didn’t even second guess their presence considering everything else looked so out of place. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t even mad… He was just upset. The person that he saw today in his apartment was not the person that he had fallen in love with, and surely not the person that he imagined a future with. It’s not that he expected you to be his maid while he was working either, he knew that you worked, you were just as busy a person as he was, but he just thought that maybe you’d want the house to be kept a little clean… That’s the type of person you made it seem like you were… He was upset that he had been wrong. 

Your blanket had somehow managed to get wrapped around you while you were napping on the couch, it made it impossible to kick it off in time for you to get up or for him to even see the cast around your leg. Of course, it would have been nice if he would have just let you explain, but you could understand his irritation. 

As you looked around the house, you finally took in just how unsightly it was. It looked like there had been parties going on since he left and you hadn’t cleaned up after any of them. It was disgusting, you hated it, and you yourself would have been just as upset if you walked into your house and seen it looking like this. 

“Shit…. Shit!” You hissed, unwrapping yourself from the blanket before trying to get up. It hurt, but nothing would hurt worse than Hyunjin leaving you, so you dealt with it, gritting your teeth to muffle your cries of pain as you started to clean up, trying your best to shift the weight off your bad leg, but it was almost impossible considering the mess that you had to avoid to get to the garbage can. 

You weren’t even sure how so much shit had accumulated, but there were pizza boxes stacked up on the coffee table beside the carry–out bags, and there were the discarded plastic bags piling around you from when you’d get out the shower and just rip them off and place them to the side, promising yourself that you’d throw them away later. 

Damp towels laid on the floor beside the dirty clothes hamper, towels from when you’d pull them from off your head, tossing them and hoping they’d make it in only for them to land everywhere but where you wanted. Again, you had promised to get to it, but you never had. It truly was disgusting, and even though your leg felt like it was on the verge of falling off right now just from walking on it, it shouldn’t be an excuse for how disgusting the house had gotten. 

Aside from walking… Everything else was also a pain in the ass. You couldn’t bend over to grab things off the floor, although you were trying your best, but the gravitational pull of the earth had different ideas and you ended up falling face first to the floor, managing to bust your lip and bloody your nose in the process. It wasn’t bad enough that everything was a mess, but now you were just as bad off as the apartment. 

What’s worse is that you couldn’t even get up. There was nothing close enough to give you the leverage that you needed, and your good leg was in just about as much pain as the broken one from you trying to catch your fall and landing right on your knee. Your phone was somewhere amongst the pile of garbage on the coffee table and you couldn’t even crawl over there to get it, you were left on the floor, and you felt that that’s where you belonged, alongside all the garbage that you had created. 

Hyunjin was quick to realize that he had been wrong… Not about you, but about the situation. Not as quick as he wished he had been, but he was back at the dorms and he couldn’t stop beating himself up about the way he had left you. He hadn’t been rude, not exactly, not the way other people would have been… But he wasn’t exactly nice either. 

He had gone back to the dorms, and the rest of the guys were still back at the hotel in the city they had just performed in. He felt more lonely than ever and he knew that he needed to talk to you to apologize for the way he had been acting, so he texted you. He would have gone back to the apartment, but he was so nervous about how you’d react to him suddenly showing back up that he felt it would be better if he just texted you first to ask if he could come back. 

There was no response, and that made sense… Obviously you’d be mad at him for walking out the way he did… And now he was playing back those moments in his head, the moments that led up to him walking out… And he couldn’t stop thinking about the crutches that he had tripped over. Why were they even there? They hadn’t been there when he left… But if something had happened to you that would require you to need them… You would have told him about it… Right? 

But what if you hadn’t told him about it… And something really bad happened… And that’s why you weren’t answering his texts. He hoped that wasn’t what was wrong… For the first time since being with you he was hoping that you were just mad at him and ignoring him. At least in that case you would still be okay. That didn’t stop him from panicking though. He called a cab and waited impatiently outside for them to pull up, not even waiting for the car to come to a complete stop before climbing in the back and giving the driver the address. 

As soon as he got to the building he ran up the stairs, bursting through the front door and it felt like he was about to die, his heart breaking when he saw you laying in the middle of the floor. You looked absolutely lifeless, a puddle of blood on the floor next to your face, and the cast that wrapped from your foot up to your mid thigh explained everything. “Help… Please…” Your voice weakly called from the middle of the floor, and the only reason any sound of relief came from his lips is because you weren’t dead. 

“I’m here…” He whimpered, already crying as he rushed over to you and helped you off the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist to help support you as walked you back over to the couch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you, my love… I didn’t even wait to hear your reason… I just left…” He was full of shame and guilt as he looked at you, the blood that had trickled from your nose now dried on your upper lip and your bottom lip busted open from where it hit the floor. “One second… let me get something…” 

He rushed off the couch and to the kitchen, grabbing a towel and soaking it in cold water before running back and lightly wiping away the blood. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I would have been the same way… It just hurt so bad to walk and… I hate the crutches, they hurt my arms and… I’m sorry.” You mumbled, and he quickly pulled you into a hug, lightly pushing against the back of your head to muffle your words against his shoulder. 

“I don’t care about the apartment, love… I care about you.” He whispered, repeatedly kissing the top of your head as he said the words. “Now… Tell me what happened… Please.” 

You were right… Hyunjin had gone from crying profusely when he heard about the accident, his head shaking as he apologized over and over for not being there for you, although you repeatedly told him that you were the one that didn’t tell him. As soon as the tears stopped flowing though, he was angry, angry at the driver who so carelessly injured and could have potentially stolen away his love. He was so angry in fact, that he planned on having management go to every store with a security camera and demand the footage from the day that it happened so they could track down the person who did it. 

After he had calmed down as much as he could, he called the guys to let them all know he wouldn’t be able to come back for the rest of the concerts, explaining to them that you needed him more than they did, and no, you couldn’t get him to change his mind, and none of the guys tried to get him to change his mind either. You were now stuck with a slightly overbearing and overly apologetic Hyunjin who didn’t leave your side at all. 

“Why were you walking around down that way though? Your work isn’t down there…” He mused one evening, still unable to get over what had happened and trying his best to piece it all together although you had explained everything to him. You sighed softly, suggesting for him to check the art room, and he gently moved your leg from off his lap as he ran to the room, his squeal of excitement loud enough for not only you, but probably the neighbors on all sides of you to hear as well. “You almost got killed to get me this?!” He called from the room, and you giggled lightly. 

“It’s the one you wanted, right?” You called back, as he came out from around the corner of the door, tears in his eyes as he clutched the box against his chest, his head nodding fast in response to your question. “Then it was worth it… I’m glad you like it, babe.” 

“I don’t deserve your love!” You cried out as he rushed back over to the couch where you were resting, leaning over the back to catch your lips in a deep kiss. “I’m gonna paint your cast and make it look so pretty… You’ll be my canvas until it gets taken off.” 

Felix

“You really can’t go with me this time?” Felix asked as he stood just off to the side of the TSA line at the airport. He had been asking the question since he found out he and the guys were going to Australia for a couple tour dates. Sadly your work schedule wouldn’t allow it to be done, and as much as you asked and practically begged for even three days off, they just couldn’t do it. You shook your head before kissing his lips softly, then doing the same to each of his cheeks, a salty taste clinging to your own lips from the tears that he had shed on the way to the airport. “I’m gonna miss you, angel… Be safe, remember to lock the doors, and look both ways before crossing the street… And don’t talk to strangers and don’t walk down alleys at night and-” 

“Lixie…” You whispered, cutting him off for the sole purpose of, you knew he was stalling. He hated leaving you, and you hated when he left, but neither of you really had a choice in the matter. “You’re gonna miss your flight…” You reminded him, and he looked down at his phone that was open to his boarding pass, his bottom lip jutted out. 

“So what if I did? Then I’d get to stay with you… Is that so bad?” He retorted and you truly wished it was that easy, but the both of you knew that it wasn’t, and the way that he said wasn’t the way that it would play out. 

“The company would be pissed at both of us… And they’d just send you out on the next flight…” You explained, although he already knew that that’s what would happen. It didn’t stop him from wishfully thinking though. “Go on… I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back. I’ll even have a big sign with your name on it… If management lets me.” 

He chuckled, although the sound was more sad than anything else and he pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly as he took a deep breath of you, holding it in his lungs as if he was going to carry it with him the whole time. “Always wait for me, okay? I’ll always wait for you… I love you… I already miss you… Fuck… I have to go… I love you so much… So so much…” He continued to profess his love as he walked backwards into the line, his eyes squeezing shut every couple of seconds as tears rolled down his cheeks once more. 

Every night he’d call you before you went to work, the joys of working the evening shift, and most of the call would be him just telling you that he loves you and how much he misses you and how much he wishes you were there with him. You’d tell him that it was going to be okay, that you’d be together soon and that you loved him too. The calls usually left you both crying, and you’d have to tell him that you’d be late for work if the call continued. Then he’d call you every night after work, asking you how your day went and once again telling you that he loved you, how he wanted so badly to be laying next to you in his hotel bed, holding onto you and burying his face in your hair, the smell of your shampoo filling his nose and helping him sleep better. He needed you, and you needed him too, it was only two weeks until he came back… It would be okay. 

“It’s getting dark out, are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Your boss asked as she stood at the door, leaning against it to hold it open for you. “I don’t mind it, I don’t want you walking out here by yourself.” 

You hummed softly, shaking your head as you walked past her, adjusting your purse on your shoulder as you paused just outside the door. “I’ll be okay, I walk home all the time. I’ll see you tomorrow, drive safely.” You said cheerfully, anticipating the call that would come from Felix as soon as you got home. 

The walk was always pleasant, the summer breeze that came with the hidden sun always felt nice when he blew around you, taking a deep breath and letting the fresh air fill your lungs… Until it didn’t. The breath that you tried to take now burned, the pain in your side wasn’t too bad, not until you tried to breath again and you couldn’t, it felt like your lungs were on fire. 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, angel. You could get hurt.” You remembered Felixs words from a time not too long ago when you had started to walk across the street before the traffic had even stopped, so happy just being with him that you didn’t even take the time to look around. The words rang true as you finally looked down, noticing the knife that was still plunged into your side. 

It was crazy how it didn’t start really hurting until you looked at it, and then, as if the world had been on mute for a couple minutes, all of the sound came back and you could hear bystanders screaming as they rushed over to you. “It’s okay! We’ve called an ambulance and the police! It’s okay! Just hold on!” You didn’t know who this person was, he simply caught you before you collapsed onto the ground, gently lowering you down, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood from your mouth every time you opened it. The taste of copper was nauseating and you couldn’t help but retch when it would coat your tongue. “No no… Don’t do that… It’ll make it worse!” 

The knife still hadn’t been pulled out yet, and you remembered reading somewhere that if it had been pulled out immediately that you would have bled to death… But god, the pain was worse than whatever death could possibly feel like. “The ambulance is on its way! Someone caught her! They’re waiting for the police!” You could faintly hear a woman scream, but the sound of your breathing, if you could even call it that, was much louder in your ears. The rattle of your lungs and the heavy wheezing was so annoying, but sadly you couldn’t mute that sound considering it was coming from you. 

There wasn’t much that you could do, there wasn’t anything you could do really… Just laying there, listening to the rattle and the commotion and the distant sirens that you knew were coming for you. All you could do was dive into your own mind, try to think of something, anything to make this moment just a little more bearable. Felix. He was the only thing you could think of. The way his smile brightened even the darkest nights, the way he’d come back home after performing and you’d have the honor of wiping off his makeup, kissing along his cheeks as his perfect freckles reappeared from under the makeup. The way his hair would drip onto your face after a shower when he’d climb on top of you, his fingers tickling your sides as he smothered you with kisses. He was your happy place, he always would be, and even if you died right now, there was no heaven that would ever be better than the one you got to live on earth when you were with him. 

“Woman in custody after random stabbing near Yangjae-daero. Eyewitnesses say that the woman was a crazed fan, screaming that the victim “didn’t deserve to be with him.” Although the “him” in question was never specified. The victim is currently in the hospital with no update on her condition just yet…”

Bangchan shook his head as he read over the report, tossing his phone to the side and running his hands over his face. “I never thought that people would go this far. It’s ridiculous, it’s scary. We need to keep our girls safe.” He said, and Felix nodded his head in agreement, having been the first one to read the news. He hated that it was so close to your place of work, and he tried his best to call you and text you, but he was sure that right now you were being questioned by police about what you saw and heard. 

“She’s probably so scared…” Felix murmured, checking his phone once more, but there were still no texts from you. “I don’t want her walking home by herself anymore… God, what if it had been her?” And while he wasn’t even 100% sure it wasn’t you, he wanted to believe you were okay, so he did. He filled his mind with every single scenario other than the one where you were the victim. 

“Try not to worry too much, we’ll be going home tomorrow morning and you’ll be with her.” Chan said, but Felix felt it was quite hypocritical since his girlfriend had been texting him the entire time while Felix was getting nothing but silence from you. “Just try to get some sleep, okay?” 

And he tried, he tried his best, but he couldn’t get even a wink of sleep without hearing your voice before bed, so many nights spent just laying on the hotel pillow that brought him no comfort since it didn’t smell like you, but he’d hear your voice, his phone on speaker but the volume low so that if he closed his eyes it sounded like you were really right there. He needed that, he needed you to call him, he needed you. 

He wasn’t even close to falling asleep, it had been 4 hours, and the vibration from under his pillow had him rolling over onto his stomach to look at the screen that was so blinding in the darkness. You finally texted him though, he felt like he could finally breathe, at least a little bit. “Sorry for worrying you. Don’t worry, I’m fine. These cops had more questions than I thought they would.” 

“It’s okay, I just needed to be sure you’re okay. Did you get home? Make sure to lock the doors, and if you need to go to work or anywhere, text Chans or Changbins girlfriends, they’d be happy to help you.” He knew you wouldn’t though, even though you’d be much safer if you did, you hated burdening people and putting them out of the way even if it meant you’d be safe. “Try to get some rest, it’s so late. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.” He texted and your response came quickly, telling him that you loved him too, that you hoped he slept well and had sweet dreams, and now that he knew you were okay, he knew that he’d be okay. 

It had completely slipped his mind to let you know he was coming home the next day, he had finally gotten to sleep at 4am and he had to wake up at 6am to get to the airport by 7. A 10 hour flight, and he hoped he’d be able to sleep a little bit on the plane before he got to you, he didn’t want to be exhausted when he finally saw you. 

By the time he landed in the afternoon his stomach was full of butterflies, his smile unwavering as he thought about how it would feel to hold you in his arms again. Of course you weren’t going to be at the airport waiting for him, you didn’t know he was coming home early. Nobody knew, but after the report, all of the guys wanted to go home to be with their girlfriends, there had never been such panic felt by Felix as the guys raced through the airport to get to the cars to go to see their girls. Felix felt the same way though, and while he hated comparing his emotions to anyone else's, his panic was far greater considering you had been so close. 

Now, Felix loved a clean house as much as the next person, but he didn’t like it to be so clean that it felt like a sin to even walk across the floors. He liked things clean, but he still wanted the house to feel like it was lived in, he wanted it to feel like a home, which is why when he walked through the front door and saw your hoodie balled up on the bench instead of hung in the closet he felt nothing but warmth in his heart. It was your favorite hoodie, it was his hoodie, and seeing it on the bench meant that he’d be seeing you soon. 

At least, that’s what he thought, but when he walked further into the house he still didn’t find you, but he did find a mess. Dishes still sat in the sink, begging to be washed. Your lounge clothes were discarded carelessly on the floor in the bedroom, not even brought to the dirty clothes hamper beside the washing machine, and speaking of the washer, the clothes that were in there had gone sour from being left to sit dampened in the bin for so long. There was a very big difference between a house being lived in, and a house just being dirty, and right now, the house felt dirty. 

“Look…” He started the text, trying his best to sound as understanding as possible while also getting his point across. “I know you’ve seen some shit, but that doesn’t mean you can just let the house fall apart. I mean… Leaving dirty dishes in the sink? Leaving wet clothes in the washer? That could cause vermin… It could cause mold to build up in the washer and in the clothes. I thought you knew better… I thought you were better than that. I love you, but I’m not gonna pretend I’m not annoyed right now. I’ll stay at the dorms right now… And I’ll come back home tomorrow to help you with some stuff but… I don’t want to come back home and see the house like this. It’s kind of upsetting.”

Why didn’t you tell Felix about being stabbed… He wouldn’t have texted you that if he knew… He would be sitting in the hospital with you right now and comforting you. Well, there were a lot of reasons actually… But the main one was that you knew he’d blame himself for what happened. You thought that you’d be out of the hospital and at least able to do a little bit before he got home, you never thought he’d come back home early, and the most shocking part was the fact that all of the guys did. 

It was a miracle that you were still alive, a little bit higher and the damage would have been way worse… At least that’s what the doctor said. It was also a miracle that you were being let out of the hospital only two days after getting major lung surgery, props to the surgeons and the amazing medical equipment that’s out now. Still, it’s not like you could really do much, there was actually more that you couldn’t do rather than what you could do. You just needed to keep your activity levels at a low and then you’d be totally fine. It’s not like you were running a marathon, you were just gonna go home and clean the house so that Felix wouldn’t be disappointed in you. Perfectly fine. 

You ubered home considering the fact that Felix was annoyed with you and the last thing you needed was an apologetic clingy boyfriend to spend the entire car ride home belittling himself for saying such things to you. It’s not like he knew what happened, and it was his honest reaction, and to be fair, he had a point. Nothing he said in the text was wrong, and it wasn’t like he was vicious, he just didn’t want mice or roaches to take over and he didn’t want to deal with mold. Nobody wanted that, you didn’t want that. His annoyance was valid, and you didn’t want him to feel guilty over something he had no idea about. 

And to be quite honest, the uber driver's face was priceless when he had asked you why you were in the hospital and you nonchalantly told him you got stabbed and had to have lung surgery. If laughing wasn’t on the list of things to do, you would have cracked up, but truthfully, it was painful to laugh. Breathing in itself was still quite painful, and it was crazy how you had to retrain yourself on how to breathe so that you weren’t in as much pain. 

Walking into your home was like a breath of fresh air, except you couldn’t take that deep breath and instead you had to do a little sniff and just walking up the front stairs had you winded and you had to take a five minute breather on the couch before actually starting any chores. Crazy enough, the dishes, although they were your least favorite chore to do, they had been the easiest. There was no heavy lifting involved, there was no bending over… You finally found a reason to love doing the dishes. 

While you were working in the kitchen, you had restarted the load of laundry that had been sitting in the washer, and it was just about done thankfully. All you had to do was switch the clothes into the drier and then you’d be able to take a little break. It was supposed to be quick and easy, and for the most part it was… Until that one last fucking sock at the bottom of the basin caught your eye. Everything, every bone in your body, your mind, your heart, everything was telling you to just leave it… But you couldn’t, and you stretched over the side of the basin, and you felt the tear, but in the moment you didn’t care because you were victorious, you had got that sock and you threw it in the drier and now you could rest. 

Except you… you couldn’t rest… Because the warm trickle that ran down your side finally caught your full attention, and when you looked down at your shirt you could see the dark red stain that completely soaked through the fabric. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t start instantly panicking… But who wouldn’t panic when their stitches from a surgery like yours busted open? And there was so much blood… So much… You started hyperventilating and that hurt even more and you ended up getting light headed and falling to the floor. You truly felt like you were dying, and you knew that you needed to get to the hospital and sure… You could have called an ambulance, you could have called Felix… But he was upset with you and now there was blood all over the floor and for some foolish reason you thought he’d be mad about that, so you called the only other person you could think of. 

Chans girlfriend was like a sister to you, and you quickly called her, and luckily she thought the same way about you and immediately picked up. You could hear the other guys in the background, you could even hear Felix… But you were more focused on the sound of Chans girlfriends voice, finding in it some will to keep from fainting at the sight of all the blood on the floor and the warmth that continued to pour down your side. “Hey, what’s going on? Do you need to be picked up from work?” She sounded so cheerful, her and Chan truly were a perfect match. 

“No… I need… Hospital… Can you take me?” You gasped out, and the silence coming from her end was deafening. If it weren’t for the sound of the other guys goofing off in the background you would have just assumed she had hung up. “Please… Bleeding… I’m bleeding… Really bad…” 

“Y-Yeah… Do you want me to bring him?” You knew exactly who she was talking about, but she was smart, she knew that there was a reason that you hadn’t called him, and whatever that reason was, you most likely didn’t want her to say his name to catch his attention… But she still wanted to be sure. 

“Just you… Please… Hurry…” You mumbled, and it felt like you had used the last bit of energy to say those four words. Your arm fell limp at your side and you didn’t even end the call, it felt like the room was fading in and out and this… this feeling… it was way worse than being stabbed initially. At least then the knife held everything in. Now it seemed like you were bleeding out and you couldn’t even breathe without getting lightheaded. It was the absolute worst. 

Chans girlfriend had rushed out of the dorms so fast, even Chan had no idea what was going on, and he had texted her non stop questioning where she went and what was wrong, but she hadn’t answered. With everything that was going on, it made him uneasy, and now Felix was the one telling him it would be okay, that is, until she walked back into the dorms. She was a completely different person, her eyes almost shell shocked, she looked like she had seen a ghost. 

“What happened?” Chan had immediately rushed over to her, and she only shook her head, and Felix could see the tears in her eyes as she looked at him and then back to Chan, motioning for him to follow her into one of the empty rooms. It’s not that Felix was nosy, but the way she had looked at him had him questioning what the hell she had seen, and why she hadn’t looked at the other guys the same way. “What?!” Everyone froze when they heard Chans scream, and then the rushed out shushes from his girlfriend. “Why didn’t she say anything?! He doesn’t know! Is she okay?! Oh fuck!” There was a panic in his voice, a certain fear that no one had ever heard from their leader before. It was concerning, but everyone was frozen in their seats, stunned into silence as they listened to the conversation, which was more like Chans screaming and his girlfriend's incomprehensible whispers. “Well I can’t just not tell him! You know how he is! For fucks sake, what if she dies?! How do you think he’d feel?! I’m telling him!” 

Everyone else pretended to go back to whatever it was they were doing beforehand once Chan came out from the room, everyone but Felix who had his eyes glued to Chan and his girlfriend who walked out behind him. They were both looking directly at him too, and it only made him more confused when they stopped right in front of him and now he was being motioned to follow them into the empty room. Why was this so secretive? 

“You should sit…” Chan started once he had gotten Felix into his room, and that only confused him more as he slowly lowered down onto Chans bed. “Do you know… Fuck… How am I even supposed to tell him this?!” He looked back to his girlfriend who was leaning against the door, sniffling so quietly that Felix hadn’t even been aware that she was crying until now. 

“Tell me what? Just say it!” Felix demanded, growing impatient with the back and forth of it all, and the urgency in their tones had him on edge and his knee was bouncing so fast that it was shaking the entire frame of the mattress. Clearly it was something important and it was meant for him… “Just spit it out!” 

“Y/N is in the hospital.” Chans girlfriend blurted out and that was the first shot, it was more like a gut punch, it was unexpected, and while it was definitely concerning… It didn’t explain what Chan had said earlier when he thought no one was listening. “She was bleeding a lot and… Her stitches from the lung surgery… They ripped and… She was trying to do the laundry I guess… There was blood everywhere and… She was unconscious when I got to the house and I called an ambulance and followed them there but they wouldn’t let me in…” 

Lung surgery… There was nothing wrong with your lungs, at least there hadn’t been when he had left for Australia. “She… She didn’t say anything… About that…” Felix stammered, his heart going a mile a minute and his mind reeling as he thought about what to do… What he could do. He felt helpless, there truly was nothing he could do right now to help you. “Why…. Why would she need lung surgery…. What happened?” 

Chans girlfriend sighed as her head fell forward, her eyes sticking to the ground now. “She was the one… From the news report…” It took a couple seconds for him to finally get it, but once it clicked, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “She shouldn’t have been trying to do chores… Why would she do that? She’s crazy… That stuff could have waited until you got home to help her.” 

It was his fault… Everything was his fault. His legs were shaking as he got up off the bed, and he almost fell forward, he would have fallen to the floor if Chan hadn’t been there to catch him. “Hey… Hey look… There’s nothing you can do right now… Just stay here, rest… I’m sure the hospital will call when they fix things… You’re not okay right now… Just lay down.” Chan urged, pushing him back onto the bed, and he couldn’t even get up, it felt like there was a thousand pounds against his chest, holding him against the mattress. 

“It’s my fault… It’s all my fault… Mine…” Felix muttered to himself through tears, rolling over and curling up into a ball on Chans bed, violent sobs shaking his entire body. “I’m gonna lose her… I’m gonna… She’s gonna be gone… I can’t… I can’t live… Not without her… I can’t do anything… I need her, hyung… I really do…” He stammered, and the only thing Chan could do, the only thing anyone could do was try to console him, and they did their best, but he only got quiet when he cried himself to the point of exhaustion, his puffy eyes closing as his sobs turned to hiccups, then to shaky slumbered breaths. 

“Damn… I’m back here again…” You muttered as your eyes opened to the familiar white walls of the hospital room. “Wanna go home… I’m ready to go home…” And you tried to move, but a familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar pain hit your side as you tried to get up, and when you looked down, you saw the long tube protruding from your side in the exact same spot that your stitches once were. “Now what the fuck is this?” 

“Ma’am…” The doctor that had been standing in your room waiting for you to wake up finally walked over and sternly motioned for you to lay down. “Do you remember me?” Of course you did, it was the same doctor that had so happily discharged you before, and you quickly nodded your head before pointing questioningly to the lung that was poking out of your lung. “Well, you went against every single rule that was written for you to follow, and you tore your stitches, every single layer, and then during your panicked hyperventilation episode, you managed to inhale a lot of blood and now it needs to be drained.” 

“I’m sensing sarcasm…” You mumbled, falling back against the bed since you had no other choice but to lay there. “So how long do I have to stay this time?” You asked, and the doctor rolled his eyes at your sassiness, tapping his pen against the clipboard that he was holding. 

“Considering your lack of self regard and the fact that we have to make sure your lungs are properly drained and then we have to stitch you up again… It’ll probably be a good week before you’re out of here. Now… You said that you’d have someone there who knew what was going on when you got home… Why did the person who brought you in seem so confused? Did you lie just to get out of here?” 

You sheepishly scratched the back of your head and then your face crinkled up as you nodded your head. “But, I was gonna tell my boyfriend! He just got home before me and the house was kind of a mess and I completely forgot about the laundry… You know… Getting stabbed kinda makes you forget about daily chores. I tried to do the laundry when I got home and then… Bam… Stitches popped. I blame the sock.” 

“The sock? You blame the sock?” The doctor repeated, completely exasperated by your sense of disconcern for what was going on. “You could have just explained to your boyfriend that… you know… you got stabbed.” He mocked you, placing his clipboard under his arm as he shook his head. “I’m gonna assume your boyfriend is the dark haired freckled boy who has been loyally sitting on the floor by your door and crying his eyes out… Does that sound like him?” You pursed your lips, nodding your head slowly. “I’m gonna let him in now, okay?” 

You barely recognized him when he walked in, his head hung low and his hair curtaining his face, but when the door shut behind him, he looked up at you, his eyes immediately focusing in on the tube in your side and then he was bawling once more. “Yah, why are you crying? I’m still alive and… painfully, still breathing!” You tried to laugh, but ended up hurting yourself in the process, wincing when the vibration of your chest caused the tube to shift. 

“How are you still so happy?” Felix questioned, not even coming close to your hospital bed which was actually really upsetting considering the one thing that would probably heal you better than any surgery was one of his hugs and maybe one of his kisses. “Is it the morphine? Do you not feel anything?” He looked at the IV drip that was connected to your arm and then back at your face that was smiling so brightly, he’d think that you were in any normal bed just waking up from a nap… 

“No, silly… It’s because you’re here.” You simply explained, holding your arms out to him. “Where’s my hug at? I’ve waited so long for one of your hugs, and you’re just gonna stand there and stare at me?” You pouted, looking down at the tube and letting out a quick sigh, it would have been longer and way more sassy if your lungs could have handled it, but they couldn’t, so a short bit of sass was all you could give right now. “I know I look like a lab experiment right now… but… A hug would be really nice.” 

“You’re like this… because of me… And you still want a hug? You still want me close to you?” He quizzed, and your eyebrows lowered as you looked at him with such shock, your eyes looking around the room before landing back on him. 

“Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about right now, I just want a hug and maybe some kisses if you feel so inclined to give me them.” You motioned your arms out to him once more, a little more forcefully this time. “I’ll let you have a couple bites of my flavorless jello if you give me a hug… Please?” 

He chuckled, although it sounded way more sad than usual as he finally walked over to you, carefully maneuvering his arms around the tube as he rested his forehead against yours. “You didn’t tell me…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your nose before pulling back. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew that you’d blame yourself…” You brushed his hair away from his face before lightly poking his freckles and smiling to yourself. “You’re still doing that right now though… Which is silly. I’m the one that decided to do the laundry even though the doctor told me not to. That’s not your fault.” 

“You didn’t tell me you got stabbed, angel. I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up about the house if I knew that… And you could have told me to go fuck myself after I sent that text.” He scoffed softly as he finally, carefully, sat down on the edge of the bed. “We’re suing her… The whole company is… And we’re gonna make sure you and the other girls have body guards at all times. Nothing like this will ever happen again…” He took a deep breath, and then pursed his lips apologetically as he let it out slowly through his nose and you snorted softly.

“Don’t feel guilty for being able to breathe better than me, breathe deeply for me since I can’t right now…” You joked and he rolled his eyes, his head falling back as he groaned loudly, but you could hear his laughter although he was trying his best to hide it. 

“God, you really are something else…” He murmured once he had calmed down, looking over at you with the softest eyes that held the whole universe in them, although you could only see your reflection in his pupils, but to him, you were his entire universe. “They tried to send my angel back home… I’ll never let that happen… I won’t let you go. If you go, I go… I love you too much to live without you here beside me.” 

You sniffled softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. “Damn…” You choked out before clearing your throat. “I love you too, Lixie… Don’t make me cry though… Makes it hard to breathe…” His eyes widened, and you knew he was on the brink of beginning to apologize again, and you knew that if he did he wouldn’t stop so you cut him off before he could begin. “You think we got time for like… a quickie before the doctor comes in to check on me?” 

“WHAT?!” He shrieked, his cheeks burning a bright red as he glanced at the door and then back at you. “You’re crazy… God I love you so much…” He chuckled as he shook his head, leaning in to kiss you softly as he pet his hands over your hair. “Maybe at night though… I missed you a lot… You know…” 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #dad!skz #dad!stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz headcanons #skz fic #skz drabble #stray kids imagine #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids drabble #stray kids angst #skz angst #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin angst #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix angst

[allysunny]

Hello! First of all, congrats for your 200 followers ❤️✨. Great job!

Second? I wanna request

8+ 19 in patching up wounds prompt with Nanami ❤️🤭

"Don't go to work today" + "I've got you" + Patching up wounds x Nanami Kento

Words: 3.4k words

Warnings: Some angst, established relationships, mentions of wounds, bruises and stitches, very soft Nanami. If I missed anything, let me know!

A/N: Aaaaaa thank you so much Tarja! It makes me super happy that you decided to request, you know I'm a huuuge fan of your stuff!

This was an entry for my 200 Follower Event, which is still ongoing, so you can request something, if you'd like!

I wrote this in practically one sitting because it was hurting my heart. I knew exactly what to do when I saw the prompts you picked (and I think your choice was quite deliberate as well hahaha!) and I wanted to deliver the best thing ever. It's a bit short, but I just knew if I were to extend myself, we'd end up with a whole novel and I'd get carried away.

Without much further ado, I hope you all enjoy this! I had a blast writing it - I want to hug this man and never let him go! <3

Nanami’s tired sigh signalled his arrival home.

Instinctively, you got up from your spot on the couch and made your way towards him. And the vision before you shocked you to hell and back.

There’s blood all over his clothes; his once white shirt was now tainted a dozen crimson shades, and he was holding onto his stomach as he walked.

You looked at him, at his calm and collected demeanour, at the way his lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes took you in. A sigh of relief left his lips and he all but collapsed on top of you, burying his face on your hair.

“Hey – hey, careful now,” you mumbled, holding onto him tightly but still making sure he wouldn’t fall. “You’re – you’re injured. Kento, what happened?” you asked, looking up and cupping his jaw, looking for any injuries in his face. Thankfully, you find none.

“Occupational hazards,” he muttered against your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It relaxed him. You relaxed him, kept him grounded and sane. As long as he got to come back home to you, he’d be fine – he was sure of it.

“Come on, let’s get you out of these clothes. You need to be taken care of.” You dragged him upstairs, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, and preparing a nice bath for him. While he takes off his clothes (assuring you that he wasn’t a baby and that he could get undressed by himself), you go fetch your first aid kid, far too used to the job of patching him up after long, hard missions.

He got inside the bathtub, warm water relieving his sore muscles instantly. He hissed softly when the water reached his stomach, but he said nothing and just sat down, leaning back against the marble tiles, and closing his eyes. He wasn’t going to complain, not when he knew you were about to probably do the very same thing and reprimand him. He knew you loved him. You cared about him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, sitting by his side, and gently beginning to wash him.

“It was nothing,” he replied, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” you scoffed in response, “Because a gash in your stomach is nothing. Why didn’t you ask Shoko to heal you up? I’m not a trained doctor, Kento.”

“It was late. Didn’t want to be out longer than necessary and possibly worry you even more about my location.” He opened his eyes, and you stared into those lovely amber pools that had never once failed to guide you. “Besides, I trust you to do it. You’ve patched me up before. Nothing you can’t do again. And I’ll heal up in no time.”

You sighed.

On one hand, it was sweet of him. Kento knew how much you worried about him, knew the restless nights you spent waiting for him to say something, text, call, just tell you that he was doing fine. It was considerate of him to get home right away.

On the other hand, it was so downright stupid. How could a man as smart as your husband think it was okay to switch the powers of a reverse curse user for your amateurish medical skills? Shoko had years of practice and experience. Your experience was based solely on fixing him up. They weren’t good, and he shouldn’t be relying on them as often as he did.

“I know that look,” he says softly, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. You could see the way he winced and tried to play it off as the water being too warm. Your husband never wanted to look weak in front of you. “I trust you. You’ve healed me up well in the past. This is nothing compared to what you’ve done before.”

You sighed and shook your head, continuing your process.

You cleaned the area around the wound, and once he was all clean, you helped him dry himself off with a towel. After that, you disinfected the wound and applied some healing ointments you knew had done the trick in the past. You covered his stomach with some bandage and gave it a soft kiss after you were done. It was sort of your magical touch – after the first time, Kento swore it was that simple thing that had managed to get him to heal up quickly and begs you to do it every time.

“There,” you said, caressing his jaw. “All done. But I’m not stitching you – last time I did it, it got all infected, and I’m not risking your health. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Shoko, and she’ll take care of this. Alright?”

“Yes Doctor Nanami,” Kento smiled dutifully and leaned over to connect his lips to yours. You could still feel some of the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, and tried to push those thoughts away as you kissed him back.

“And now, off to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You helped him up and brought him to your bedroom, where he sat down on your bed with a small grunt. You shot him a worried expression, but he just raised his hands as to assure you everything was alright. With your help, he laid down completely, and you were quick to slot yourself in between his arms. He brought you close and kissed your temple.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you said, yawning right after.

Nanami smiled and kissed your temple once again, muttering sweet words of adoration until you both fell asleep.

The next day, Kento stayed home.

The only time he left, was to go to Jujutsu High, to get checked on by Shoko. You went with him, not wanting him out of your sight – not when he was injured, and the world of curses never slept.

“Everything should be fine now, but you still have to disinfect the wound some more every time you shower,” she said, fetching for the pack of cigarettes on her pocket and lighting one up and turning to you. “You did a pretty good job patching him up. Why the lack of stiches?”

“I didn’t want them to get infected like last time. I figured he’d be better off like this.”

“You still did a good job.” She puffed out some smoke and shrugged. “You’d do a fine job here with me. How about you consider it? I could use an extra set of hands and – “

“With all due respect, Ieiri, I don’t want to get my wife involved in this world.” Nanami cut her off, placing a protective arm around your waist. “It’s bad enough she has to tend to me sometimes, I won’t let her see the gruesome sights I know you have to deal with on a daily basis.”

Shoko shrugged.

“My offer still stands.”

You both thanked her and made your way home, where Nanami offered to cook up your favourite dish as an apology for getting hurt last night. You sat by your kitchen table, happily watching him as he cut and mixed and did a wonderful job at recreating the food you loved so much.

While you two waited, he took you in his arms and spun you gently around the kitchen, swaying to the rhythm of jazz playing in the radio. He hummed in your ear and kissed you gently. It was soft and slow, and the day was yours to enjoy, so you let yourself melt into his touch. Your husband was safe and sound and nothing could reach you two.

It was good. It was great.

In fact, it felt far too good to be true.

And you feared something was coming up to disrupt your peace.

“I was thinking of staying in tonight,” you said against his chest, the soft beating of his heart almost enough to lull you to sleep. Staying in. Yes. Keeping him home. Safe and sound with you.

“And why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, it’s Halloween. I thought we could go out and celebrate it.”

“We don’t have costumes.” Nanami deadpanned.

“I’m sure we’d find something. But now I just want to stay in with you. Maybe order some takeout, watch a scary movie. What do you think?”

Nanami hummed and bent down to kiss you softly once again, swallowing the soft moan you rewarded him with.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

You spent the rest of the day lazing around, curled up on the couch, watching movies or catching up with old shows that had been long forgotten. At some point, you were sure your husband was taking a nap, and you could only smile, glad he was getting some rest.

“I’m going to shower,” you yawned, looking out of the window. Afternoon was turning into night, and you wanted to clean up the laziness off your body.

“I’ll join you.”

“Ha! No, mister, you’re not going anywhere. No funny business until you’re all healed.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t I shower with my wife anymore?” he faked a surprised expression, and you smiled, glad to see your husband allowed himself to be more laidback at home.

“You can, but you would have to keep your hands to yourself, and I know that’s not possible.”

“You offend me, darling. I am familiar with discipline.”

“The hell you are,” you chuckled, standing up and offering him your hand. “But come on. I need to disinfect your wound again.”

He did as you asked, and you found yourselves in the bathroom once again. You were sitting by his side as usual and were carefully tending to his wound when his phone rang.

“Just leave it – that’s Gojo’s ringtone.” He muttered with a sigh – a sigh that conveyed just how frustrated he was with his coworker.

You nodded and went back to working on his wound but were interrupted by the loud noise of his phone once again. You gave your husband a sympathetic look and he sighed once again, nodding. Standing up, you went to retrieve his phone, only to pick the call up while you returned to the bathroom.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Is Nanami in there?” Gojo asked, urgency clear in his voice.

“Wow, hello to you too, Satoru. What do you want Kento for?”

“Just – please, give the phone to him.”

“Is everything okay?” Now you were getting worried. Gojo was never serious, and he sounded far too worried right now.

“Just put him on the phone!”

So, you did. You couldn’t make out just what the conversation was about. Just that Gojo was extremely worried, and he probably wanted Nanami’s help.

“Hm.” You heard your husband mutter. “I see. Shibuya. Mhm. Who else? Kusakabe? Hm.”

You tried to put the pieces together yourself.

There was something happening in Shibuya, and Gojo needed your husband’s help. Other people were going too, and by the list of names Nanami repeated, you could tell it was probably serious – a lot of people were going.

“I’ll be there in 10.” Having said this, he hung up.

“So?” you asked, looking at him.

“Something is happening in Shibuya Station. Gojo needs my help leading a team of sorcerers.”

Your stomach fell.

Of course. It was far too good to be true. The little peace you’d crafted for yourself and Nanami – it wasn’t real. And something did come to disturb it.

Grabbing the hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball next to you, you dabbled it softly all over the wound, trying your best not to apply too much pressure. This whole thing gave you the creeps. You couldn’t tell what it was – wife’s intuition, a 5th sense. All you knew was that you did not your husband to leave the house.

You didn’t want your peace disrupted. You could feel something was about to happen.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t go, Kento.” You repeated, this time more firmly. “Don’t go to work please, just today” After you were done disinfecting the wound, he stood up and quickly grabbed his clothes. You knew the look in his eyes, the determined look that told you he was entering work mode, he was entering overtime.

He sighed and started walking towards the bedroom, picking the first suit he saw on his closet – the beige one, with the dark blue shirt. You liked that suit. It wasn’t very conventional, he could’ve picked a far more “normal” colour to wear like dark blue or even black – but the tan colour matched nicely with his brown eyes, and the dark blue of his shirt contrasted well with his fair skin.

“Gojo sounded worried. I think this is serious. I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see,” he told you, putting his shirt on and grabbing the holster his blunt sword.

“Please – Kento, you’re injured.” You told him, walking to his side. “You can’t go like this!”

“Shoko healed me up, didn’t she? And so did you. I’ll be fine, I promise.” His voice was as reassuring as always, but all you felt in your stomach was a pit that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Not tonight. I – I have a bad feeling about this, I really do,” you held onto his hand, and forced him to look at you, to see the fear and worry in your eyes. He did, and stopped in his tracks, cupping your face with both his hands.

“I promise you; I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured.

“You don’t get it – I have a terrible feeling about this mission. Please stay home,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found it hard to speak, anxiety clogging in your throat and making it burn. “Just for tonight. You can’t go tonight.”

“Honey, they need me. They need my help – what if someone is in danger?”

“Surely they can get someone other than you!” you exclaimed, tears now rolling down your cheeks. It broke his heart to see you like this, crying before him. Nanami brushed your tears away and shook his head.

“They can’t. Gojo knows how much I hate overtime. I can tell he’s being serious right now.”

“They have other sorcerers! Gojo can send in other sorcerers! It can’t always be you! Shit – Please! Kento, don’t go tonight. I’m begging you, stay home.”

Nanami looked at you, furrowing his brows ever so slightly. He knew you. Better than he knew himself, he was sure. He knew you cared about him deeply, he knew you worried like crazy. But you’d never stopped him from going on missions. Sure, you’d try to beg for just five more minutes in bed with him, wanting to cherish every second you got to hold him in your arms, and you checked up on him several times a day just to make sure he was doing fine.

But you never stopped him from doing what he had to do.

You understood how much Jujutsu Sorcery meant to him. You understood why he did what he did, and never once got in his way. You knew it was his calling, and you couldn’t stop him. After all, you loved him. And no matter how much you wanted to protect him; you would always let him do what he felt like he had to.

Today was different.

“And you want me to stay home because you… you have a feeling?” he repeated your words back, shaking his head ever so slightly. “[Y/N], you know I can’t. A feeling is not enough. They need my help.”

“They can get someone else’s!” You were crying now. Actually crying and holding onto his hands as if they were your lifeline. To you, they were. “I, I can’t explain it Kento. I just know something terrible is about to happen. And you’re injured, you haven’t healed completely yet, I… I can’t lose you Kento! I can’t – I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I don’t think I ever will!”

You embraced him tightly, burying your face on his chest and clutching his blue shirt in your fists as you sobbed.

“I just know… I know… I can feel it… I know something awful is going to happen… Please don’t leave me – don’t leave tonight… I love you Kento, I – I can’t lose you…”

Nanami hugged you back as you sobbed, running a gentle hand through your hand in an attempt to comfort you. He pondered his choices.

Gojo sounded desperate. Something big had clearly happened and he was needed. No other sorcerer could rival his technique alone – there was a good reason, after all, he was a Grade 1 Sorcerer. He could go out and help. They probably needed his help more than anything else. And his guidance.

But you… You just looked so frightened, so anxious. Scared that some force more powerful than him would take his soul, his life. He titled your head up with his other hand and took you all in. Your eyes were red from all the crying, your nose was runny, and your lips were puffy and open as you mumbled a string of pleas, all with the same intent. Don’t leave tonight.

He’d never seen you like this.

And he was positive he never wanted to do so ever again.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Your eyes were wide as saucers and your breath quickened.

“Really?”

Nanami hummed in response and kissed you sweetly. You, however, kissed him with all you were feeling. The anxiety and fear of losing him, the desperation to keep him by your side, the undying love you had for him. You poured all these emotions into your kiss, hoping they’d speak louder than the words you couldn’t come up with. You then looked at him and teared up again, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Bread, fireplace, and fresh new books. He smelled like home.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, still running his hand through your hair. “I’ve got you.”

You stood like that for a while, in his arms while he whispered soothing words in your ear.

After a while, he picked you up and took you to the living room, sitting on the couch and placing you on his lap. You snuggled into him, refusing to let him go. Your hands were all over him, and you tried to get closer to him, as if that were even possible. You were so tangled up; it was hard to tell where he ended, and you began.

Nanami silently took the TV remote and picked a movie you had mentioned wanting to watch for Halloween night. He held you close, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, his hand firmly on your thigh to remind you that he was here.

Gojo needed his help. That was true. And however dramatic he may be, he could be serious when he wanted, and forego his cocky, careless demeanour.

But you needed him. And Nanami had spent far too many nights out in missions, coming home battered black and blue, covered in blood and big purple bruises, worrying you to death. He’d seen how you looked at him earlier – like you truly believed he would be taken away from you. And it broke his heart.

Gojo could manage on his own. He’d done it before. Nanami had sacrificed far too many hours for Jujutsu Sorcery. Surely, he’d done enough to warrant a night off, to spend with the love of his life. Right?

“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry again.

“I love you. And I don’t want to worry you.” Was his ushered reply as he placed soft kisses on the side of your head. He felt you smile into his skin, and the gesture was enough to make him melt in your embrace.

Yeah.

He’d surely done enough to earn a night with you.

Gojo could manage.

For now, all he wanted was to curl up with his wife on the couch, and comfort her until she no longer cried, watch a movie or two, chuckle when she got scared and hid in his chest.

Yeah.

He’d earned it.

Because nothing could ever matter more than you.

A/N: And that's it!!! I hope I managed to give all Nanami fans some solance - in my head, this is how it went down. Nanami stayed home with us, and later he retired and we moved to Malaysia. All is well.

I hope you all enjoyed it! I certainly did - I love writing for Nanami. He's such an interesting character!

Have a wonderful day (and weekend) ahead, everyone! <3

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami drabbles #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami kento fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfiction #nanami kento #kento nanami

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 41

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: it's thursday and i'm thirsty.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You have no tears left. When you’re still and silent, standing in Odin’s arms, slumped against him, the birds sing a little louder and the sun shines a little bright. You feel almost cleansed despite the hollow at the pit of your stomach. You lift your head and wipe your damp cheeks as he slowly lets his embrace fall away from you.

You sniffle and peer back through the garden, towards the house. You’e not ready to face them all, not with puffy eyes and a heavy heart. Odin pats your shoulder gently, rubbing your arm as he coos your name.

“I have something else to show you,” he says and offers his hand.

You take it and gulp down the last of your grief. He turns you away from the great Odinson manse and leads you around the fountain. Leaves rustle softly and the water trickles soothingly. He guides you down a path hidden behind a cluster of bramble, overgrown with moss and ivy, littered with winged samara and sprouting blooms.

The noise of the fountain fades behind you as you enter an archway formed by outstretched maple branches, canopied in the spring leaves. There’s a small structure ahead shrouded in purple wisteria. A gazebo, smaller than that on Laufeyson’s property, forged in stone with rounded windows upon each side. Within, the walls have benches jutting out, another doorway opposite the entrance, looking out into a shadow swath of untrimmed foliage.

“It is old, a bit unkempt, much like myself,” he chuckles as he lets you go.

“It’s beautiful,” you preen as you admire the neat lines between each stone block, “wonderful… I… I love it.”

“It’s a perfect hiding place,” he muses, “a perfect place to have one’s breakfast without disturbance.”

You turn to him, a question stitches between your brows.

“I will fetch you tea? Yes? Perhaps some fruit and something more substantial?”

“I…”

“Dear, you think overly much of others and not enough of yourself. Sit, enjoy your solitude while you can, and I will return with all you need,” he insists.

“I can’t, Mr. Lauf–”

“You let me worry for my son,” he interjects. “I’ve no doubt his part in your despair.”

You don’t argue further. You wouldn’t dare. You lower your head and sit along the stone bench against the wall and turn to peer out the window. It is wonderful there. Like a little world of your own.

You glance over but he’s already gone. You barely even heard him with the buzz of insects and scratch of sneaky critters all around. You turn back to the long window and watch a dragonfly skim along the ground, whizzing up, down, and back and forth. It’s as if you escaped into a book you read as a girl, where everything was magical and spectacular. You don’t think you’ll get a happy ending though.

Your mind wanders through the greenery and back to the house. The bedroom, dark in the small hours of the night, laying awake, staring at the wall, Mr. Laufeyson’s warm breaths puffing into your neck. Those moments when he doesn’t seem so intimidating but remains perplexing. One moment, wrapped around you, the next toying with you like a puppet.

Your core tingles and you bend your legs on the bench, squeezing them together. The sensations swirl in your mind with the shower steam. As delightful as it all was, your heart rents with shame. The way he left you on the tile, the expectation you would get yourself up and go to him, ready to be used again. As always, you have a duty.

Mr. Laufeyson does not care for you as a person, you doubt you’ll ever be that in his eyes. You are just another possession, like his records on the shelf, or that telescope he polishes so vehemently. Just another number in his collection.

You hear a snap and blow away the anxiety as best you can. You can’t worry about it so deeply, you know what you agreed to. He has given what he’s promised; you’ve been fed, clothed, and housed. You need him more than he could ever need you.

You turn to the doorway as Odin appears again, a tray in his hands. He brings it to the next bench and sets it down. There’s a cup of tea and a stack of square waffles beneath a dusting of sugar and heaps of berries. It smells delicious as your mouth waters for a taste.

“I’ve brought this as well,” he stands straight and takes a book from under his arm, “I hope it will keep you entertained.”

“Oh?” You watch him set it down.

“Today is for you, dear, you won’t be disturbed, I will see to it,” he declares, “Walpurgisnacht approaches and we all must be ready for the spring. Lay the past behind so we can start again.”

You lower your eyes, “thank you, Odin.”

“No need for that,” he says, “I only ask that you do one thing for me,” he nears and pets your head. You peer up at him as you heart seizes. “You will be kind to yourself.”

“I… I’ll try.”

“You should take care of her,” he points to you, “I rather like her a lot and I hate to see those I care for suffer.”

You smile, “I will.”

“Better,” he grins and retreats, “I will be in to check on you periodically.”

“Thank you,” you call after him and he gives a half-salute before he’s off, whistling into the air.

You exhale and let the last of the tension slake away. You drag the tray close and cut into the fluffy stack. You remember how you always wanted a waffle maker. Instead, you always had the frozen waffles you slid into the old overheating toaster. These are much better, they’re sweet and oh so yummy.

Sitting there, in the small gazebo, amidst the wilderness, you feel like a bird in a nest. Safe, cozy, and alone.

✨

You lose yourself in the pages of the book. The sun shifts as you move with it, keeping the ink in its light as you imbibe every word like sweet nectar. It’s like staring in a mirror as you feed on the tale of one, Jane Eyre.

Your literary meditation is splintered by the sudden ripple of a shadow and the clearing of a throat; gentle, almost reluctant to tear through the serenity. You look up at Odin as he stands in the archway, a small curve amidst his thick white beard.

“Apologies,” he says as he comes forward to gather up the tray, “I’m afraid it’s time.”

You deflate and close the book. You stand and hold out the book, “I can get all that.”

“No, no, I can manage,” he assures you, “and that is for you, dear. Keep that as your own.”

“I couldn’t–”

“You have some to go, haven’t you?” He eyes the book, “please, I have enough books.”

You look down at the book and hug it. It’s like a new best friend. You just want to spend all your time amidst its pages.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you need,” he backs out of the gazebo, “come with me now. Let us put our masks on.”

You giggle and follow him. He says it so well. It’s like slipping back into a costume. You feel the peace chipping away and the tension once more has you rigid. Back to the real world.

“Now, we cannot give ourselves away,” he halts just out of sight of the veranda, “I shall go ahead and you will follow that path,” he turns and nods behind the row of hedges, “follow it around the front and you may slip in.”

“Oh, uh…” You blink and look over your shoulder, “that way?”

“Yes, it will take you right around to the front door.”

“Right, thank you… again.”

He bows his head and steps forward. You turn off in your own escape as the slippers on your feet clap against the ground. You come out in the golden sunshine and tramp across the stonework of the arced drive. As you come up the steps, the door opens from within. You stop at the middle stare and gape up.

“There you are,” Mr. Laufeyson greets, almost an accusation, “where’ve you been off to?”

Your brows pop up and you peer around, “reading.”

“Reading? You couldn’t do so in your room?” He challenges.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson. I broke the rules.”

“You broke the rules– get inside,” he points you inside as he steps back. You obey and he snaps the door at your entrance, turning towards you with a finger in the air. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I’m very sorry.”

He sighs and drops his hand, gripping his hip, “where were you reading?”

“Outside.”

“Outside– be straight, where?”

“In the garden,” you say plainly, lips down turned, “I only wanted to watch the butterflies.”

You look up at him, a pout in your lower lip, and bat your lashes. You clutch the book tighter and his eyes fall to squint at it. He reaches and curls his fingers around the top, wiggling it free. He flips it over to read the spine.

“This is a first edition,” he states as he examines, “where did you find this?”

The disbelief in his voice makes you nervous. First edition? 

“Is it very old?” You ask.

He winces and looks at you, his green eyes lit, “1847… I’d say so.”

“Oh?” You bat your lashes.

“Not in its original form,” he turns it over, “it’s been rebound into a single volume. The first print was in three parts and this cover… it can’t possibly be so ancient.”

You gulp and purse your lips.

“So I have to wonder, where you found this,” he sneers at you.

“Well, I… your father gave it to me.”

“Gave it to you? To read? He lent it to you?”

“Um, he just said… to keep it as my own,” you shrug.

“Do you--keep it? A first edition Bronte?” He sounds ready to explode, “so that is where you’ve been? With my father?”

“I saw him, Mr. Laufeyson, but I was mostly alone,” you sniff, “I shouldn’t have gone out. I’m sorry. Again.”

“Is that all you’re going to say? Sorry, sorry, sorry?”

You nod, “sorry.”

He closes his eyes and pinches his nose, “you will stay close.” He offers the book back to you, “put this away and put on some proper shoes,” he looks down at the oversized slippers, “I’ve some errands to run for mother and you will come along. Do your duty.”

✨

Mr. Laufeyson is quiet throughout the drive. So are you. You accept your penance and roil in the thick silence, fingers twiddling and twining restlessly. His sighs make you flinch as you await further reprimand.

He pulls in before a shop front of white trimmed in red. He gets out without waiting and you follow after him. You trail him inside as he strolls across to the counter where women in red aprons and caps smile back at him. 

“Hello, I’ve come to pick up an order for Odinson,” he declares flatly.

“Frigga? Oh yes,” the shorter of the pair flits into the backroom.

“You don’t remember me?” The other woman asks. Laufeyson’s eyes shoot darts at her and his brows arch.

“I recall you spilled vodka on my wedding shoes, yes,” he scoffs.

“Oh,” she makes a face, “I thought maybe you’d forgotten that part.”

“Mm,” he hums and taps his fingers on the shining countertop.

The other woman returns and slides over a large white box, a red seal stuck along the corner to keep it firmly closed. Laufeyson takes out his wallet, “how much then?”

“Paid for,” the woman proclaims, “all yours.”

“Right,” he slides the box off and pivots smoothly. 

You peer back before you scurry ahead of him to the door, opening it as his hands are full. That woman was at his wedding? Did she know Sif? Was it a big event? Did everyone go? You don’t ask any of the questions that flood your head. You’d rather not know.

He balances the box in one hand and reaches into his pocket for his keys, unlocking the trunk. He tucks the box firmly against the emergency kit to keep it in place. 

“Whatever it is, it should be kept cool in here,” he shuts the lid, “though I wonder why mother couldn’t have it brought with tomorrow’s delivery.”

You don’t say a word. You wouldn’t know either. He strides back along the side of the car and dips into the driver seat. You mirror him as you get in on the passenger’s and he presses the button to turn the engine. He sighs and rests the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. He glances in the rear view.

“I’ve another stop to make.”

That’s all he says. It isn’t a question, just a statement. Though you wonder why he even made the declaration. You don’t need to know, you just go along.

He backs out and rolls out of the lot into the street. You distract yourself with the other storefronts and the veneers of city buildings. He drives onto an avenue and slows along the curb, shifting to a stop before he once more shuts off the engine.

Again, he gets out without instruction. You follow. That’s all you can do. He heads up to the grey brick house. Where are you? It isn’t until you’re at the front door that you notice the metal placard mounted on the wall; Bragi Skald, Antiques and Artifacts. 

Laufeyson clangs the large knocker on the door and checks his watch. You wait. It’s quiet. You see no light through the windows but the curtains are drawn flush to the windows, as if they’ve been sealed.

The hinges whine suddenly as the door swings inward, “Ah, Loki!” A blond man at least head shorter than his visitor greets, “wonderful to see you again. I did have it in my ear that you were about, I was curious as you when you should darken my doorway.”

“Bragi,” Laufeyson replies tersely.

“And who is this gorgeous creature,” the man’s crystal blue eyes surprise you as the bow in his lip deepens. He sends you a wink and offers his hand, “forgive me, sweetheart, I nearly missed you there, and how could I overlook such a ravishing woman.”

“Enough,” Laufeyson girds.

“I haven’t even introduced myself–”

“This is Bragi,” Laufeyson introduces the man then utters your name pointedly in return.

“Ah, beautiful name but that hardly answers my curiosity. Who is she? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re marrying again–”

“Hardly,” Laufeyson swipes away the thought with his hand, “I only need to be away from my family.”

“Yes, yes, of course. With Walpurgisnacht, I can only imagine–”

“Be glad you only have to imagine it,” Laufeyson scowls. “Are you going to welcome us in or shall we continue to stand on your porch like tramps?”

“Come, come,” Bragi opens the door wider, “Lady, please, don’t mind the clutter.”

Laufeyson waves you ahead of him. You enter and hold back your shock at the interior. You can hardly see the walls for the stacks of books all around, many with sheaths of paper jutting out. It smells like cinnamon and hint of dust.

“What are we in the mood for? Tea? Or something stronger? I’ve some absinthe–”

“Don’t be mad,” Laufeyson rebukes, “tea will do fine. Just tea, none of your tricks.”

“You speak to me of tricks?” Bragi hums, “is that a sense of humour I sense, oh, dour Loki.”

You lock your jaw to keep from gaping. You’ve never heard anyone talk to Mr. Laufeyson like that, not anyone outside his family, and even Thor did not mock him so lightly.

“Do you want tea?” Laufeyson looks over at you.

“If it isn’t any trouble.”

“Tea,” Laufeyson snaps his fingers at Bragi.

“Do you like scones, lady?” Bragi turns his attention to you.

“I’m not very hungry, thank you–”

“Lady!” A squawk makes you jump, drawing your attention to the flutter of blue feathers that descends to perch on the banister post. A great blue parrot tweaks its head and repeats the word.

“Oh, hush,” Bragi shoos away the bird but only receives a nip of its sharp beak, “don’t listen to Fossegrim. He talks too much.” Bragi shakes his head and retreats down the hallway, “tea, tea, tea…” he chants as if he might forget.

Laufeyson tuts, “he speaks of talking too much…”

You stare up at the blue parrot as it stares back at you. Around its eyes and mouth are bright yellow strips. It’s a pretty creature.

“Lady,” it bawks again and hops off the banister, winging around the space to land on your shoulder.

You gasp as Laufeyson takes a step back. He just sends a troubled look to the bird and glances around, “in here,” he points you through the doorway behind him.

“Um…” you move carefully, trying not to disturb the bird.

In the next room, a large harp stands in one corner, a piano the other, and a litter of various instruments on shelves mounted on the walls. There’s a twelve-string guitar on the sofa, leaned against the armrest as if it was left there haphazardly.

“Be very careful,” Laufeyson returns, “it bites.”

“Bite!” The parrot squawks and snaps in Mr. Laufeyson’s direction. He sighs and once more eludes the bird’s breadth.

“Wish he’d lock that thing up,” he mutters.

You stand like a statue, nervous. You turn your head slowly to look at the parrot. It leans in and nuzzles your hair. You stay as you are, paralysed as you fear it might snap at you too. A grating chitter rises from its throat, softer than its former screech. It continues the purrlike noise as it rocks on your shoulder.

“Is it singing?” You ask as Laufeyson stares with arms crossed.

“I have no idea. Let’s hope it’s not growling.”

You frown and clasp your hands tight. If the bird keeps Mr. Laufeyson away, it can’t be so bad.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

[moonchildxoxx]

Zeykoyu tu yawnyewla

A/N: You are responsible for your own media consumption.  MDNI 18+ MDNI 18+ I usually don't post on Tuesday but since it's my birthday figured why not hop you all enjoy it . the reader and So'lek were hooking up prier to this and the tittle meant to say healer of broken heart in na'vi Pairing: So'lek x Sarentu! Reader Word count: 1.8K Synopsis: so'lek comes to realize that he really cares about the reader and even loves her after hooking up for a while. [ Request are open] Master List Rules

So’lek had returned from a scouting mission gone and was pretty banged up.( Y/N) had offered to clean him up she thought it would be quick but she was wrong he was squirming around as she applied the paste to his wounds. She sat on his lap cleaning the cuts on his chest as he held her by the plush of her hips. Everyone was out of the Na’vi quarters so they had some time for themselves ." Oh ... ouch!! Ouch!! Stop pulling so hard." He hissed out as his tail wagged and his ears pinned back obviously upset.

"You are acting like a big baby ." She cooed softly but teasing was evident in her tone.

He did not look happy .” He was covered head to toe in bruises, cuts and scars. The damage he'd sustained during fights and missions was clear .

"Ah..." He sighed as she checked him over, he was still annoyed that she babied him around after missions but didn't say anything. He was slightly annoyed and was tempted to just stand up with her still sitting on his lap and see what she'd do .She flicked his ear. He jerked his head to the side, frowning. "Did you seriously just do that?" The ear flick hadn't hurt but it had annoyed him. "Complain again and I make you go see the healer's instead"

"Shut up" he hissed through gritted teeth, his tail wrapped tightly around her leg but this time it was out of frustration rather than him being sweet and protective. She hissed back at him "You've been bossing me around since you joined the resistance." He scowled, one eyebrow lifted. "And I let you . But not when I'm injured."

“Stop being a big baby and just sit still "He glared but said nothing, his jaw tightening as he kept himself still and let her see to his wounds. He stayed quiet the whole time because for some unexplained reason, her telling him what to do had him feeling all sorts of ways. Was he beginning to... like it?

“See you need stitches on the one on your back, it's deep enough” she spoke . He sighed quietly and just allowed her to continue fixing him up.

Eventually when she finished his injuries he looked up at her, his expression a mix of

embarrassment and annoyance. "You know the worst part about this, " he grumbled. “ you're a jackass,” she bit back . That just made him snigger, his breath warm as he leaned in even closer until her lips were almost grazing. "I might be an ass but in your eyes I'm the most perfect one." She smiled and kissed him. He chuckled but kissed back softly, enjoying it despite himself.She finished cleaning his wounds. He groaned quietly and looked down at her.

"I can't believe a warrior of your stature is cleaning my cuts." He tried getting a raise from her. “ And I can't believe a man of your age is whining again" That made him snap out of it, looking down at her with a mocking smirk. "You are lucky I like that mouth of yours." He teased as he leaned back against the wall of the hut, letting one arm rest behind his head while the other was still wrapped around her waist. "You're lucky I like grumpy old men" she teased "Old?!" He barked, his tail whipping around furiously. '... I AM NOT OLD." She giggled a bit kissing the side of his face where a scare ran from the top of his cheek down to his chin "Shut up." He hissed as he rubbed his scarred cheek, his tail wrapping around your leg again before tightening to make sure she wouldn't go anywhere.

She kissed him , His anger faded away as he kissed back softly. His pride wasn't going to let him admit that she took care of him and him liking it, but deep down he did love it when she did things for him like braiding his hair or healing him after a fight it made him feel appreciated.

He'd never admit it though. She nuzzled him

all of his anger melted away in that moment, he wrapped his arms around her pulling hee closer, he wanted her in his orbit, always. He didn't want to let her out of his sight or his arms, this is how he'd felt for months now, he only cared for her .

He felt protective over her like she was his and only his. She tucked her head underneath his chin. He hissed again but couldn't help but to smile softly as one of his hands came to rest on the back of her neck the other on her head.

He didn't want to let her go, he just wanted her to be close to him and comfortable. She trailed kisses along his throat. He growled again but this time it wasn't an angry one, it was a low moan. One hand moved down to her back, the other wrapping around her upper body pulling her closer. “ Maybe we should take this somewhere more private?" She suggested "Hm...and what do I get out of it?" He asked teasingly. “Mmm what do you want?” She countered

"Hm...to make you mine permanently." He smirked as he ran his thumb over her lips, waiting for her answer . She looked at him shocked "I want you to want only me ...l want your love ... I want your trust... your body.... I want it all." He told her, and he did. He loved her and he didn't want to share her with anyone else but him.

He was more possessive of her then she probably realized, and saw him as a grumpy old man but he was much more than that in her eyes he was Na'vi who truly cared about her . He'd never admit it but she was his biggest soft spot and he didn't know how to handle his emotions around her .

"I....." she tried finding the right words But he wasn't letting her off that easy "Well??" He smirked as he leaned down slightly, putting his face right in front of hers. She nodded yes. That was all he needed to hear, his lips pressed against hers hard and deeply as he brought her closer, wrapping his arms around her and resting her on his lap where he held her like she was the most important thing in the entire world, which she was to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© Moonchildxoxx 2023 | all rights reserved. do not republish, repost, steal, modify, translate or claim my work as your own.

#avatar 2009 x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar movie #solek frontiers of pandora #solek x reader #so’lek x fem!human reader #so’lek avatar #solek smut #so’lek frontiers of pandora #so’lek smut #solek #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar #tsu'tey x reader #jake sully x reader #tsu'tey x y/n #neteyam x reader #jake sully #ao’nung #lo’ak x human reader

[luveline]

a hotch baby blurb along the lines of spontaneous phenomena where she works at the fbi or bau but not as a profiler and is a bit shy and quiet but he always notices her and thanks her for all her hard work ?? maybe he comes back from a case w a black eye or injury and she frets and they kiss ?? i love u mwah

I love you, thank you for your request! fem!reader

When people ask how someone as quiet as you ended up working in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, you love to say, "I just slipped in. They haven't found me yet to fire me." 

For the most part, you aren't lying. You'd worked your way up by accident, and with no intentions on moving any higher you're happy in your cushy little desk job filing paperwork and typing up reports. 

It also gives you a strange sort of happiness to help people out. Not for praise, though praise is nice, but just to see a usually sombre breed of people uplifted. It's why you're in Hotch's office so often. He has an abundance of paperwork. You have time to file it, or if not filing, sorting. If not sorting, tying up loose ends. You figure, why not? 

You wouldn't enter his office if he hadn't given permission. He knows it's you because you always leave the door open, and you know it's him because he sighs tiredly in the doorway. 

"You're here late. Go home." 

"It's only…" You check your watch. "Five twelve."

More tired sighing. You quickly finish up what you'd been doing at the chair in front of his desk (which, a few times, he's told you to sit behind rather than in front, because apparently his chair has better lumbar support) and click a lid back onto your pen. 

"How was– oh no, what happened?" 

Your lilting tone makes him smile. 

"Nothing happened." 

Standing from your seat, you tilt your head to get a better look at him. A shiner stains the skin around his left eye wine dark, and the sclera is bloodshot. It looks painfully sore. 

"Hotch," you say softly. 

"It's alright. I've had worse." 

You know he's had worse. You know he's been stabbed like a pincushion and stitched closed again, know all about his perforated eardrum, his bad shoulder. That doesn't make it any easier to swallow this injury. 

Somebody as kind as he is, how's it fair he hurts this often? 

You move forward in an act of brazen self-indulgence that is completely unlike you and stop just shy of his shoes, looking up into his face. 

He obliges you, looks down. 

You picture the violence without meaning to, the hand that had hit him. 

"Are you alright?" you ask. 

"I'm fine." His brows lower and he winces, but they're lowering in fondness. The corners of his dark eyes crease with it, and his tone is sweet. He sounds younger than he is when he speaks to you like this, and he's been doing it more and more. "You worry more than you need to." 

"I just think that… if somebody hit me like that, I'd be upset, so…" You meet his eyes and feel intimidated, not by him, though he's imposing and tall and handsome in the worst of ways, the way that's making professionalism impossible to maintain, but because you're staring your feelings I'm the face at the same time. You really care about him.

"I like my job," you say, filling a small silence he hadn't bothered to fill, his expression suddenly unreadable, "but sometimes I wish I'd been a profiler." 

"Well, it's never too late." 

"No, it is. And it's not because I want to do what you do, I don't even think I could, but it's–" 

You cut yourself off with a nervous huff of laughter. He takes the smallest step closer, his face dipping down incrementally. "What?" 

"I wish I was so I could be there." 

"Yeah? What would you do?" 

"I'd take care of you," you say honestly. Your face burns with heat, and you realise how corny and out of place you'd sounded instantaneously. You turn your face to the side, grimacing so hard it hurts. "I'd defend you." You attempt to save face. "I mean, I'd try to. I'm not saying the other profilers don't do that." 

"I knew what you meant," he says, and lifts a hand to your cheek. 

You hold your breath as he steers your face to his. 

"You do take care of me," he says. "In your way, honey. You do." His thumb skips over your cheek. He seems, for once, out of order. Unsure. "Could I kiss you?" 

Your fingers find their way to his shoulder. You don't know how to say yes to that, your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth, your brain a useless mess of neurons that refuse to fire. 

You close your eyes and hope he gets the memo. You lift your chin. You stay very still.

Hotch kisses like a gentleman. Chaste, completely, a firm and sweet press of the lips. Then, like he's losing a handle on it, his nose pushes into yours and his lips part just slightly, and you remember to kiss back only a second before he pulls away. 

You raise a hand to his face, a mirror. "You're sure it doesn't hurt?" you murmur. 

"It stings, but," —he closes his eyes again, resting his forehead on yours— "I'll be okay." 

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds