#and of course I can't even sleep. I can't even rest for a moment

[annwe24]

KINDRED serie

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X READER

Part 1

Summary: The past still haunts him as a painful reminder of being played at love. Even with such opportunity, Lucifer refuses to open up his heart.

People often say death is the well-deserved eternal rest after a life of hardship. That, unfortunately, has been proven wrong. Hell is like a punch in the face for those who seek escapism in the afterlife, leaving undone business to the living. So why the Hell would sinners be able to redeem themselves in the first place? Lucifer frustratedly thinks to himself. He is totally baffled at the idea. Even, hypothetically at best, they somehow made it into heaven, would they be accepted? However, seeing how determined his daughter is, it would break his heart to not support her only grand goal in life. He hates how he cares enough to awkwardly pour tea into your teacup with a shaky pinky at the moment. Charlie has been pushing him to leave his usual working desk to spend time socializing. It's a bonding exercise, she said. Given how well-mannered you usually are, he is glad she chose you instead of the other sinners. Ah, you. Always so caring, always so polite, always so-

Your Majesty, your tea is getting cold.

Coughing loudly, he drinks all the tea in his cup at once and silently cringes at himself.

Sorry, I’ve been having too many thoughts these days. Many things, you know.

Is there any way I can help? I noticed you’ve been so paranoid lately, I’m just worried but of course! You don't have to agree to that just because I ask you but please don't feel pressured to keep everything to yourself because I know-

Hey, it's alright! I understand your sentiment.

He softly cuts you off seeing that you are getting worked up. You always have this rather odd excitement for helping people. Your kindness stands out too much compared to others, something almost too pure. A question he's been asking himself lately is how did you end up here. It has been fun contemplating the possibilities during his free time, imagining your sweet face distorts into madness. Wait, what? Sweet face?

…

The fuck is your problem? He knows good people, even a rarity, still exist in this hellhole. Not all good people end up in Heaven, something Lucifer has long accepted. The problem is your goodness is absurd. Ever since your arrival at the hotel, it is clear that you are one of the most eager helpers, going as far as taking Charlie’s exercises almost too seriously. It irritates him to no end how you are so easily exploited.

He noticed many guests at the hotel use you as an errand runner unknowingly from time to time. There is certainly no malicious intent underneath, they themselves don't even realize that. It’s just that you are too easy, too gullible. Angel Dust is one glaring example. He has been known to ask you to fetch him stuff when he is “too fragile and sore due to overwork”. In reality, he sleeps through the afternoon and just gets too lazy. Lucifer can't help but find you suspicious. Afterall, who is going to trust someone in Hell, suffers memory loss, no identity and came to this hotel saying they wanted “a second chance”. He is determined to see through your facade, peeling you out like an onion.

Ouch!

A loud yelp followed by the squeaks of a hundred rubber ducks echo though his mansion. He quickly puts down the boiling kettle and dashes to his room. Piles of rubber ducks scatter across his room with you being the center of it all, dumbfounded. Panic reaches your eyes as you stand up hastily and say small “sorry” over and over. You look like you're about to cry.

Lucifer calmly squeezes through piles of rubber duck to get to you and places an assuring hand on your shoulder:

It’s nothing I can't fix. Here!

With a snap of his finger, the ducks magically fly back into place and the room starts to look like a room fit for a king rather than a depressed single dad. Lucifer is quite pleased with your wide-eye expression. Letting out a sigh, he guides you over to the tea table where you two would spend the rest of the afternoon. This kind of “date” has been going on for a while under the encouragement of Charlie. She is ecstatic to see her father finally be able to find someone to confide in and is a sinner. Although Lucifer can hang around the hotel whenever he feels like it, he prefers somewhere more private and quiet so that no one judges him. He hates being judged. It reminds him of his time in Heaven which he absolutely wants to forget. This is where Hell steps in. The place is literally his playground, albeit a bit grotesque, but at least he is free.

…

As time flies, the little hangouts between you and him occur more often. It has reached to a point that he finds his mansion eerie without your presence. You are not a talkative person nor a charmer, but you carry yourself with such sweetness that makes him feel peaceful, a warmth he has long forgotten. He wonders if the same happens to you. Do you find yourself incomplete without meeting him at least once a day? He certainly is not a mind reader but a keen observer at the very least. You seem to light up every time you see him, always looking, listening in his direction. He is scared. What if this was all a ploy you set up to get closer to the King, to have some kind of privilege down here? You are first and foremost still a sinner. Although he believes not everyone in Hell is bad, being in Hell means breaking some morals while you were alive. He can't handle another failed relationship. Not right now, not when Lilith still lingers hauntingly in the back of his mind, not when he can break at any moment and Charlie is the only thing that keeps him going. He can't let her get hurt too. She is just as fragile as him after the divorce.

Tonight’s hangout is just the same as every other hangout: comfortable silence. You are rolling on his king-size bed while fidgeting a rubber duck he especially made for you. You have been quite comfortable in his mansion, letting yourself go as if you were at home. As for Lucifer, he is at his working desk as usual. He likes it this way. Lucifer is not a chatter at heart and you are the same. After a while, you decided to break the silence:

What are you making today? You rolled over on the bed to face him.

Oh, just rubber duck, you know.

You have so many already. Why don't you make something new every then and there?

What do you like?

Huh?

What do you like? He asked, turning back to face you.

Well, um… I like stuffed animals? I guess?

Okay, it's a deal then! He said with a toothy grin.

Y-you don't have to!

It's alright. I’m running out of ideas anyways.

Thank you!! You say as you hug the rubber duck.

What am I doing? Lucifer silently thinks to himself.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer fluff #lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin imagine #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfiction #fanfic

[bekkachaos]

Fuck it Friday 🔥

starting this because it's Friday here and I wanna know if y'all would read this because I'm a SICKO and started writing some post-apocalyptic Buddie (because I can't stop thinking about the book All That's Left In The World)

tagging these wonderful people if they wanna share x

@monsterrae1 @the-likesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @bi-buckrights @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @loveyourownsmiilee @doublecheekedkinard @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @jackluvsdaniel @belovedbuddie @bidisasterevankinard @wh0rebehavi0r @thewolvesof1998 @bucksbisexualawakening @weewootruck @daffi-990 @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @loveyouanyway

He pushed through the pain and got himself back up. It was starting to get dark and he needed to find a sheltered place to rest for the night, if he could call it that. He had barely slept in the three days since he injured himself, even before that it's not what he would have called it. Fitful bouts of sleep and nightmares and evenings in the dark listening to the wilderness come alive and looking up at the stars imagining he was anywhere else.

As he hobbled through the woods he caught a glimpse of something between the trees and felt his heart begin to pound, he was either in so much pain and hallucinating, or by some miracle he had managed to find a cabin for shelter.

He struggled towards it, he couldn't focus on anything other than making it to the door, his hand gripping tight to the wooden porch railing, the other to his makeshift crutch, and then he heard the sound of a gun cocking behind him.

"Not another step."

Eddie was frozen in place. How long had it been since he heard another person speak? Weeks? Months? He wasn't even sure anymore.

"Turn around."

Slowly he shuffled his crutch around, wincing in pain again and still using the rail to support his weight as he let himself look back and past the barrel of the shotgun now pointed steadfastly at his chest.

It may have been odd, given his predicament, but for some reason his first thought was 'so I'm not the last one left'. He knew he wasn't of course, but it was easy to forget that fact.

The man who held the gun stood only slightly taller than he did, shoulders hunched up so his arms looked bigger as he adjusted his hold around the barrel with his finger on the trigger. His jaw was set, nostrils flaring as his unnaturally bright blue eyes stared out at Eddie's unwaveringly. He was intimidating, sure, at least he would have been if Eddie wasn't close enough to see the fear in his eyes. The gun was certainly helping though.

"Not here to rob you," Eddie said, and had he been in better shape he might have put his hands up.

"What do you want?" the stranger asked, inching the gun closer.

"I'm hurt, it's getting dark, just looking for a place to rest," he said.

"Well you can keep walking," he said roughly, and it made Eddie grind his teeth together.

"That's not working so well for me," he growled, and for a fleeting moment the man's eyes flitted down to his leg, the latter half of his jeans torn and drenched in a mix of fresh and dried blood.

"I know," he said, eyes back up to Eddie's. "I watched you walk up here."

"And you're still going to send me away?" Eddie scoffed.

It didn't surprise him, people didn't trust each other anymore. If you saw someone, you stayed away from them unless you absolutely had to. A desperate and hungry person would do just about anything to survive. Lie, steal, kill. Eddie had had plenty of uncomfortable encounters since he left the base, and each one gave him even more reasons to steer clear of people. If you were out on your own, you had to do what you needed to if you wanted to survive. The minute you let your guard down around someone, they'd betray you. He didn't say anything, just kept his hard stare on Eddie as if waiting for him to give in, but Eddie was in too much pain, too tired, too hungry, and too sick and tired of the woods to go back out there. "Listen man, all I need is some shelter, I'll sit under that porch while you barricade that door if that's what it comes too," he said. "But I'm not leaving." "Do you not see that I'm holding a gun to your chest?" he said, raising an eyebrow and making Eddie look him over for a moment. "You're not going to shoot me," he said, and maybe it was not the right time to be calling someone's bluff, but there was something in the stranger's eyes that made Eddie take the risk on it. "And why not?" he asked, an irk of irritation spreading across his face. "Because you don't want to shoot me," Eddie said. "You think I won't?" Eddie nodded towards the side of the gun. "Not with the safety on."

#fuck it friday #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 fic #post apocalyptic au

[melit0n]

.

#tw vent #I am so. so tired #this week hit me like a freight train #I have final coursework to hand in in less than a week and I'm stressing because I was most definitely not given enough time to do it #and everything inside me is telling me I'm going to fail and I'm pretty sure my teachers think so as well #all my friends are high achievers who always get high grades and put their soul into their work and then there's me. Constantly failing #I try so hard but no matter what I do I never make any progress and I'm afraid I'm going to be stuck here #and that eventually my friends will move on academically and maybe socially and I'll be left behind and feel like a scared kid again #I can't go outside for a walk to try and calm myself down because I fucked up my ankle #and I got laid off one of my jobs which means I'm also stressing about being able to actually eat and on top of that I'm stressing about -> #getting another job because otherwise I can't eat or pay gas or shit #so I'm sat here in my room surrounded by work and I can't go outside and I can't leave my room because my roommate has friends around and #I just want to explode #I'm getting to the point where I'm just being unproductive because all I do is sit in bed and rot #and if I'm not doing that I'm working or I'm at school #and of course I can't even sleep. I can't even rest for a moment #this is shit man #so utterly shit #mel's thoughts

[feyascorner]

Astarion considers himself a rather proficient actor.

So after the first time you offer to carry him on your back after his insistent complaining about how terribly sore his feet are, he decides he's found the ultimate loophole to be constantly by your side without making it sexual.

It's been only an hour since you've left camp? He has a leg cramp.

He has to carry an ounce more than his usual load? He cannot possibly walk a step further.

He gets a suspicious look from the other companions when he feigns exhaustion for the umpteenth time? He purposely gets himself a small cut during battle for you to fawn over, worry painting your expressions in a way that makes his chest swell.

This extends past adventure too. Even when you're resting at camp, he insists he's far too cold to rest. And, of course, you offer to sleep beside him to conserve body heat, even though he knows damn well a bit of cold couldn't actually harm him in any way.

"He's lying, you know," he overhears Shadowheart tell you one day outside his tent. "He doesn't actually need you to coddle him so much."

Astarion doesn't hear your response, as you've gone too far off. But even he can't deny the pit forming in his stomach as he wonders if you'll return to his tent as usual tonight.

By some miracle, you do. And just as usual, you snuggle into his chest, in hopes of "preserving the heat."

For a moment, he contemplates not bringing it up. However, seeing as you aren't as quick to fall asleep as you usually are, he thinks he must face the inevitable. "About what that cleric said, I--"

"I know you're lying."

He blinks. You adjust so that your chin rests on his chest, and you're staring up at him now. Then you sigh and pull him closer again. He's not sure if he should be relieved you didn't just leave, or scared that you'll pull a knife on him.

You mumble. "It's fine."

He's quick to bounce back. "No, you must know why I've been deceiving you when it comes to my capabilities and that there is some truth to them to some extent--"

"Keep doing it."

His eyes grow wide. "What?"

"I could've let anyone else do all this, or at least share the burden," you shake your head. "I didn't want to. I didn't want anyone else to be close to you like this."

Astarion thinks his hearing finally must have gone out after all the explosions he's heard during battle. But somehow, his voice remains. "Darling, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He feels you nip at his collarbone. "What do you think?"

Astarion considers himself a rather proficient actor. But the smile stretching on his lips as he runs his fingers through your hair is no act. Not at all. Especially as he feels you intertwine your fingers with his free hand.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #astarion x oc

[ohdeerfully]

I just read one of your works with Alastor ears and KAKAISKSNSMSDHJSJ IT WAS ADORABLE, can you write one about the reader finding out Alastor has a tail and he's all flustered and nervous about it because well HES THE RADIO DEMON HES SCARY and he can't be scary when his tail wags when the reader praises him (MAKE IT WHOLESOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)

HELLOOO I LOVE ALASTOR TAIL!! tail + more sleepytime = deadly fic combo THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!

Silky Fur

alastor x reader (comfort/fluff) TW: none? join my discord!

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After a year of being together, you and Alastor had fallen into a rather steady nightly routine, though sometimes he was too busy with Satan Knows What and would leave the hotel and you wondering if he would come back to you for the night. When this happened, you often didn’t see him till the next morning—or, even the afternoon.

Lately, that “sometimes” had turned into every night. For the past week. And it was starting to make you feel… kind of shitty, you couldn’t even lie to yourself. You spent so many hours reasoning and making excuses for him—he was an Overlord, after all. No wonder he was so busy! Plus, you just so happened to fall into his life; you shouldn’t expect him to just give up his duties for you.

You looked at the ceiling, arms spread out on either side of you as you tried to convince yourself to stop feeling bad for the sixth night in a row. You missed him next to you, and started to find it harder and harder to get to sleep without his company. You craved him, and you wondered if he craved you in the same way—if he even missed you.

You sat up with a groan after a few more minutes, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. It was pointless, you decided, just laying down doing nothing. If you couldn’t sleep, you might as well go do something productive. You threw on a hoodie and made your way down the long corridor, and then down the steps.

This late in the night, the sky had an eerie red glow. It filtered through the curtains of the large hotel windows, casting long, sharp shadows that made your skin crawl if you looked too long. No matter how long you lived in Hell, you never got used to the unfriendly ambience. You had to remind yourself that you were safe in the hotel. You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your hoodie and looked towards your feet as you walked.

There was some paperwork regarding a couple residents you promised Charlie you would help her process. So, you decided you could get a headstart on finishing them, although you didn’t really see the point in the paperwork itself; it was all just going to be horrible criminal records that Charlie would try desperately to ignore.

You opted for the hotel lobby over the cramped office, spreading out the papers across the low coffee table. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you were glad to at least be out of the room.

You sat for a mind numbing amount of time, only listening to the ticking of a faint clock as you processed the information for the residents. It was times like this that made you want to curse Alastor for refusing to allow any sort of modern technology into the hotel. You get it, of course, with Vox and all—but, man, what you wouldn’t give to just have an easy spreadsheet to type this all into.

If you weren’t tired before, you sure were now. Your eyes drug across the papers, blearily taking in the information. You blinked heavily, trying to rid your vision of the tears of exhaustion. You slumped back with a sigh, the pages loosely held in your hands as you rested your eyes for a moment.

Bad idea.

Almost immediately, sleep overtook you, papers slipping through your fingers and drifting across the floor in every direction as your consciousness faded away.

You woke again when you felt your body jostling, then suddenly lifted. It took a minute to wake up enough to peer through cracked eyelids and see that you were being carried up the hotel stairs. You felt familiar arms cradling your back and legs, and the firmness of a chest that your head rested against.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That staticy feeling in the air and prickling your skin was enough to know. You let your body relax again, but couldn’t seem to catch sleep again.

He hummed a gentle tune as he walked, using his knee to turn the doorknob to your shared room. He pushed it open with his shoulder and walked you in.

You felt the plush sheets of your bed as he sat you down, but you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position to look at him. Stare at him. You hoped he could pick apart your emotions just by the way you glared. If he did, he made no attempt at asking what was wrong, and merely looked back at you with his slightly glowing red eyes and wide grin.

“You’ll hurt your back, falling asleep on the couch like that!” He started to chastise you playfully. He turned his back to you and opened up a drawer against the wall.

“Where have you been, Al,” You asked, ignoring his comment. You looked towards your feet. It was hard questioning him, because he didn’t take much seriously, no matter how serious you felt. There was a lump in your throat as you spoke.

“Busy as usual, my dear,” He replied in a sing-song voice. A quiet jazz tune emanated from the microphone atop his cane. Or, would that make it a radio? Both, probably. He rummaged through that drawer for a moment, before pulling out a thin, plain shirt and fuzzy pajama pants.

He walked back over to you, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked across your face, examining your expression. Still, he said nothing. You’d like to think he felt guilty, and didn’t want to admit it—but, truly, you doubted it. He wasn’t one for guilt, after all.

“I’ve been pretty lonely for a week, you know,” You said, folding your arms. “I’d at least like a better explanation.”

You allowed your arms to fall when he pulled at your elbows. You lifted them above your head as he gingerly gripped the edges of your hoodie and pulled it off. He quickly replaced it with the shirt he had grabbed earlier. He followed similar motions with your pants.

As angry as you were, you appreciated intimate moments like this with him. Moments so close, so vulnerable and bare, but still comfortable and sensitive. It was weird, with him being the Radio Demon and all.

“Maintaining turfs and deals is exhausting work, ma moitie, and there’s a few souls that haven’t been keeping up with their side of our bargains,” Alastor explained rather indifferently. Though, you could tell by the strain in his smile and the clipping in the radio static that he was trying his best to be delicate and honest—as possible as that is with Alastor.

“Just– tell me something next time, at least, ‘kay?” You felt embarrassed by the practically begging tone in your voice, but Alastor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suppose it is wrong for a gentleman to leave his lady questioning,” Alastor joked. He meant it, though, and he carefully smoothed your hair in an attempt at comfort.

He stepped away from you, and you frowned at the sudden space. The frown was quickly replaced by a wide smile when you noticed Alastor removing his sharp coat and carefully hanging it by the door.

What a treat, you thought, as you watched him discard the layers of his outfit. Your mouth fell open when he turned his back to you.

“You have a tail?” You asked. Alastor’s ears twitched back for a moment, stiff.

Clear as day, right in front of your eyes, was a tail you had somehow never seen before. Delicate, fluffy, and red with black—just like his ears. You couldn’t stop the stunned laugh that escaped your mouth.

“Regretfully, I do,” Alastor responded. He quickly turned back to face you. His nose was scrunched in disdain and his lips were curled in a frustrated smile. “Don’t talk about it. To anybody.”

You laughed again and quickly beckoned him towards the bed. He complied and sat down next to you. He had noticeably sat in such a way that his waist was angled to keep his tail out of sight. 

You pouted at him, wordlessly motioning towards what you both knew you wanted.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not a pet, nor a toy,” He said roughly. The static in his voice was heavy. You knew he was embarrassed, and that made your grin all the wider. It probably rivaled his own harsh smile.

“I’ll never, ever, ever ask again, ever,” You promised, holding out your pinky. Alastor’s eyes rolled at the motion. Alternatively, he held out his palm for you to shake.

You eyed his hand, then looked back up to him. You jerked your pinky towards him, urging him to take it instead. You weren’t about to actually bind your promise in a real deal. You knew in, like, a week you would probably beg him to see his tail again. 

“How incredibly childish,” He sighed. Still, he curled his hand into a fist and connected his sharp pinky with your own. “I won’t forget about this.” He threatened.

“Yeah, yeah, show me the goods,” You said with a sly smile. Alastor stared at you for a few seconds, narrowed his eyes, and roughly twisted his waist so that his tail turned towards you. He kicked his leg up and over the other, and folded his arms all sassy-like and impatiently waited for you to finish your very important mission.

You smiled gratefully, and gingerly settled your hands on the tail. It was so incredibly soft. As much hatred he seemed to hold for the thing, Alastor obviously took great care in the fur, keeping it silky smooth and combed. 

It seemed sensitive, and you noticed how his ears twitched and turned in response to your touch. His eyes were cast away from you, and his brows were furrowed. Was he blushing? No, probably a trick of the light.

“Your tail is super soft, Al,” You complimented. “Probably the best in all of Hell.”

“Are you quite finished,” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut. His own body betrayed him, though, as his tail wagged at you slightly. You held in a squeal of delight at the sight, knowing he would probably leave you right then and there. However, you had been at it for a few minutes and didn’t want to push your luck any further. You sighed in response, and removed your fingers from his tail. 

“I guess, for now,” You said playfully. This elicited a sharp look from the Radio Demon.

“For forever,” He claimed. “We shook pinkies.” 

You managed to hold in the laugh from his words. It was impossible to take him seriously as he said that, especially as he sat with a tail on full display and ears quirked backwards in embarrassment.

You yawned, opting to stop responding to him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt as you fell back into the mattress, and he easily let himself fall alongside you. He was settled next to you, and you practically magnetically attached yourself to him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but slowly unwound and relaxed next to you.

It didn’t take long at all for you to fall asleep. With the familiar heat and weight of his body in the mattress next to you, you were comfortable again for the first time in a week. The feeling of Alastor’s nails playing through your hair was the final straw as a deep sleep erased your senses.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #alastor is kind of a butt at first #his tail makes up for it tho #i imagine its super sensitive bc he ignores it so much #he might be touched starved but u didnt hear it from me!

[awearywritersworld]

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure

gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.

you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.

he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"

you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"

"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"

"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.

you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.

~~~

some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.

when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.

"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.

"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.

after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"

there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"

your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.

"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.

rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.

you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."

"p-promise?"

"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.

gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.

gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.

~~~

the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.

you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.

he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.

your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.

gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.

he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.

he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.

~~~

leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.

you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.

crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.

"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."

gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.

"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?

"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"

he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.

he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"

god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.

i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.

"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."

#m!writes #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

[yongbokkari]

interrupted ₊˚. ୭̥

𖦹 pairing — bf!seungmin x reader

𖦹 word count — 1.5k+

𖦹 warnings — hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst, veeeery small misunderstanding, pet names of babe and baby, seungmin had a bad day and accidentally released it on reader 😿🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n — result of sentences formed on multiple of 3 am-s (also posting this at 3 am), hope you enjoyyy <33 oh and there may be a few like undercase letters lolol we'll see if i am willing to find them

You were resting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. As soon as you heard the sound of keys jangling, you immediately got up and opened the door before he could even try to unlock it.

You were standing there, waiting for him to come in, but he judt stared at you as if not expecting to see you. "You're here," he said, his face full of signs of exasperation, tired after a long day at work.

"Am i not supposed to?" You joked, raising your eyebrows. but he just muttered a 'nevermind' before walking past you. "Long day?" you asked, attempting to make conversation with him, in hopes that it could distract him from the tiredness.

"Yeah. Think im gonna shower then take a nap," You had made a joke then, about him getting old and acting like an old man, attempting to lighten his mood. "Whatever," he replied to your jokes, making his way to his bedroom and you followed.

"Ah, come on. Old man can't take a joke anymore?" You giggled, poking at his sides when he just stopped in his tracks and turned to you.

"Can you just stop? I'm already having a bad enough day so you can you please stop bothering me?" He snapped, eyes tired but also glaring at you at the same time.

You were shook by the slight raise and edge to his voice so you couldn't really think of anything to reply to him. A few moments passed with you just staring at him and him you.

"Why are you even here," You heard Seungmin mutter before turning away from you, closing the bedroom door and leaving you alone.

"Right," you said to yourself. "Why am i even here?" it wasn't unusual for you to appear at Seungmin's house at random times, and he even made a spare key for you. But that didn't mean you could just come whenever you wanted to.

You gathered your things and got out of the house to drive yourself home. You weren't mad at him, far from it even. Of course you weren't, you didn't have the right to be.

You were more worried about what he said though. Were you really bothering him? Should you just stop going to his house unannounced again? You probably should. He probably just gave you a key just in case he lost his.

When you got home, you immediately started an assignment that was put on hold for quite long, hoping that it could distract you. It seemed seungmin had wanted some distance and space, so you were set on working on it until he reached out so you'd know when it was okay between you.

˖❁ˎˊ•°.

You were typing away on your laptop, earphones plugged in, slightly bobbing your head to the song playing, when you heard a knock on the door. You yelled, allowing your housemate to come in. Except it wasn't her, and when you turned back you were surprised to see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.

"Min?" You paused the song and took off your earphones, turning around to your boyfriend directly behind you. "Min, what are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" He asked, ignoring your question. he looked absolutely tired, you wondered if he even got to sleep before coming here.

"Texts? My phone..." You looked around the desk you were working on, searching for your phone, discovering that it was on your bed. So you walked over to pick it up to check your notifications but the screen remained dark as you pressed the power button. "Ah... my battery ran out," You lightly chuckled, looking at Seungmin.

"Why didn't you charge your phone then?" He asked, his facial expression serious. It almost scared you how serious he looked, worrying if he had texted you about something important.

"I didn't notice my battery was low... and i was using my laptop for work, so i didn't check," You gestured to the laptop sitting on the desk. "Did you have something important to tell me? I'm so sorry Min, for not being there, I-" Your words were cut off when seungmin just pulled you in for a hug. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist.

"So you're not ignoring me?" He asked. Usually, you were the one who had to reach up slightly to hug him since he always insisted on seeing you on the tip of your toes. But this time it was him who lowered his body, tucking his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Min, why would i ignore you?" You asked, genuinely curious as to how he had come to that thought. Then he sighed, as if relieved his worries were only what-ifs afterall. You started to rub his back then, and he had started to give in to your body warmth, almost letting his whole weight fall into your care.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

You racked your brains for a while, honestly having forgotten about what happened back at his house.

"Oh, that? You don't need to apologize, Min. You were tired, I understand."

"No, it was unreasonable. I shouldn't have let my tiredness out on you," He insisted.

"Then it's fine, I forgive you," you replied, to which he silently thanked you by placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, still not breaking the hug. "But... do you really think so?" He hummed, questioning what you meant. "Do i really bother you?" he slowly pulled away, looking at your face.

"I won't get mad or upset Min, i promise. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable because of me. So just tell me what you feel, and I'll act on it, I promise." You said, holding his hands in yours, affirming him that whatever his reply was, you were going to be fine and it won't cause even a slight damage to the relationship, if that was what he was worried about.

He only looked at you then, eyes darting from your left eye to the right, back and forth, mouth a bit downturned, and you were starting to get afraid that what you said made him upset when he cradled your left cheek in his hand.

"You're so good to me," he muttered, frown slightly deepening. "No, i didn't mean it, I don't know why I said that," he threw his head back and blew from his mouth, like he always did when he was about to but didn't want to cry.

He hugged you again pressing his nose even more into the crook of your neck, his eyebrows furrowing at his efforts to not cry. "I'm so sorry babe. You'd never be a bother to me, never. I- I love it when you wait for me to come home, I always do, but today I just- Today was so hard that I just-" He choked on his own breath so you pat his back, trying to get him to calm down. After gaining a steady breathing again, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"Well... A bit, but I knew you would never say that without a reason. My sweet boy would never," You chuckled, your hands patting his head, your fingers going through his hair.

He pulled away, meeting your eyes. "I'm so sorry," His eyes were slightly red, the bags under his eyes more prominent now you were seeing them upclose.

"Don't cry, Min, it's okay," You wiped the tears stained on his cheeks, caressing his under eyes. "Did you get any sleep? You look tired, my poor baby," You coo, trying to lighten the mood.

He shook his head. "I couldn't. Was thinking of you," Your heart ached at his soft eyes looking at yours like a puppy lost.

"Oh baby," He leaned into your hand that was cradling his cheek. "Should we get some now? Hm?" When he nodded, you continued, "You go lay down first, I'll go turn off my laptop."

As soon as you reached the bed, Seungmin took you in his arms, your head resting on his chest while one of his hands was on your waist, the other in your hair. Yours were wrapped tightly around his waist, melting into his warm embrace, contrast to your cold skin.

Suddenly he took one of your hands, his thumb caressing the back of it. "Thank you, Y/n, for always thinking of me... I love you."

You raised your head to look at him. "I love you too, Min." You pecked his lips, smiling softly, before laying your head atop his chest again. "Now sleep. Who should I look at after this if you really do turn into an old man?"

He lightly chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, as you slowly drift into sleep, hand in hand.

Seungmin wanted to show you how in love with you he was. Everything about you he adored and cherished and he was always on the verge of combusting from how much love for you he contains. Maybe someday that day will come, but for now he'll slowly take small steps into making that moment come true.

#seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin skz #seungmin imagines #skz #stray kids #seungmin fluff #seungmin hurt/comfort #seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #case 148

[selarina]

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

-

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

#the idea was to make gojo as pathetic as possible #but ya'll asked and i'm delivering #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader angst #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next? #or is it good as is? #these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me) #buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

[beeing1alive]

Tokyo Revengers Boys, if you kiss them without warning

Note: You are not yet in a relationship in this scenario, but about to be. I hope you like it

Mikey didn't think about it at all and just kissed you back a few seconds later. You couldn't tell by looking at him, but he was naturally uncomfortable. He doesn't regret it though, he loves your soft lips and wants to kiss them again, but he knows that he'll probably have to make the first move.

Darken just looked at you for a few seconds and realised what you'd just done. As always, he tried to play it cool, like he didn't really care, but I can tell you, later that night, he thought about it and he couldn't stop smiling and he hoped that he'd get to kiss you again someday.

Mitsuya blushed, but pulled you close. Honestly, he likes you either way, so why wouldn't he do that, it's one of the best chances he'll ever have. He would have acted on intuition and of course he let you go as soon as he realised what he'd done and apologised. Still, his thoughts kept going back to it, he doesn't know why himself.

Chifuyu definitely enjoyed it and even closed his eyes to savour the moment even more. But unfortunately, this magical moment had gone as quickly as it had come. When your soft lips moved away from his again, he woke up from his own little bubble and got a little scared. Of course, he apologised to you and disappeared as quickly as he could.

Baji took you by the shoulders after the kiss as gently as he could at that moment and asked you what you were thinking. You might think at that moment that he didn't like it but, let me tell you, he loved it. Since that moment, he hasn't been able to think straight or sleep. He wants you to do it again. Again and again and again, but of course he won't tell you that.

Takemichi has stopped breathing, but still puts an arm around you. With his arm gently wrapped around your waist and your face so close to yours, your lips on his. He doesn't quite know why, but he thanked you for the kiss and maybe cried a little, not crying, but maybe a single, happy tear running down his cheek.

Angry returned the kiss. Simply without thinking about it and, in fact, at that moment without any charm. Unfortunately, the embarrassment only came afterwards and, much to his regret, much more strongly than usual. He ran away, to be honest, but he couldn't do anything but think about it all day until he finally lay in his bed and replayed the whole moment in front of his eyes, like a film, over and over again and he also wondered what would have happened if he had stayed there.

Smiley pulled you closer to him and asked you what you thought you were doing. Paired with that mischievous grin, he looked very amused, but don't worry, you'll just have to remain constant, withstand his gaze and, if you're feeling particularly brave, kiss him again. I promise you, his confident facade fell away and he did the anoint like his brother, he ran off to think about it, which he actually did. He couldn't think about anything else, but that's another problem.

Hakkai's brain has stopped working. He can't remember almost anything, just one thing. Your soft, gentle lips on his and how much he longs to kiss you again. He probably left without a word, didn't talk to anyone else that day either, and this memory, this realisation, only came into his head in the evening and he thought about it for the rest of the night and his cheeks glowed red, like fire, the whole time.

Kazutora asked you directly what you had done. He didn't understand why this, objectively speaking, so simple touch felt so good. He's just so starved for touch and will also ask you if you can do it again. Please, just give him another kiss, then he'll be satisfied for a while and think about it for a while until it occurs to him that he might like you. It hits him like a wave of emotions, he wants you to touch him more often, but he doesn't know whether and how to tell you.

Koko was confused but happy and asked you what the kiss was for. For a few seconds he was afraid that you might have just kissed him because you wanted money from him, but this thought quickly disappeared when you told him with that sweet blush on your face that you just wanted to kiss him and hadn't thought about it. He also gave you a kiss and then just carried on with what he was doing before, leaving you confused. But honestly, he didn't sleep that night because he had to think about your soft lips.

Inupi returned the kiss and he loved it, of course he didn't show it outwardly, his usual expression adorned his face, but the slight, sweet blush on his face gave him away. He actually thought about it for a long time and came to the conclusion that he liked you. I mean, what else could be the reason that he wants to kiss you again and again and that he really longs for it?

Hanma teased you about it, but of course he understood that it meant a lot, he's not as stupid as he seems. He laughed about it and made fun of it, but he caught himself thinking about it over and over and he wanted to feel it again. No kidding, he wants to be kissed by you again, but a little more intimate, more personal. As you can guess, he'll never admit it, maybe someday when you're in a committed relationship.

Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. All credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed please contact me.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x yn #mikey x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #draken x reader #ken ryuguji #sano manjiro #takemichi x reader #takemichi hanagaki #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno #baji x reader #baji keisuke #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya #inupi x reader #inupi seishu #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi hajime #smiley x reader #nahoya x reader #nahoya kawata #angry x reader #souya kawata #souya x reader #hakkai shiba

[nayziiz]

Dreams | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Lando's reputation for being able to sleep anywhere was legendary. Whether it was a noisy bus, a crowded airport terminal, or a bumpy aeroplane seat, he could effortlessly drift off into slumber while others struggled to find rest. It was a talent that often amused his friends and family, who marvelled at his ability to find peace in the most unlikely of places.

However, there were rare moments when even Lando found sleep elusive. These were the nights when his mind seemed to rebel against the tranquillity his body craved. Instead of surrendering to the gentle embrace of sleep, he found himself lying awake in the darkness, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind.

On these occasions, the silence of the night only served to amplify the cacophony of thoughts that clamoured for his attention. Memories, worries, hopes, and fears jostled for prominence, each demanding to be heard. Lando would toss and turn, trying in vain to quiet the relentless chatter of his restless mind.

In the quiet darkness of the night, she sensed his restlessness, a subtle shift in his movements that spoke volumes without a word being spoken. As he rose to attend to the call of nature, she felt the absence of his warmth beside her, a fleeting moment of solitude that emphasised the stillness of the room.

When he returned, she instinctively reached out, her arm finding its way around his waist, seeking to offer comfort in the embrace of physical touch. She hoped that the closeness would ease his troubled mind, anchoring him to the present moment and soothing the restless thoughts that plagued him.

But despite her efforts, sleep remained elusive for him. As he rolled from one side to the other, she mirrored his movements, a silent dance of companionship in the darkness. With each turn, she felt the tension in his body, the weight of his worries pressing against her own skin.

Feeling the weight of responsibility pressing upon her, she knew she couldn't let his sleeplessness persist, especially with the looming journey ahead. The urgency of the situation propelled her into action, her mind racing with solutions to ease his troubled mind and usher him back into the embrace of sleep.

With each sigh that escaped his lips, she felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins. She couldn't stand to see him tossing and turning, his restlessness a palpable presence in the darkness. He needed sleep, and she was determined to help him find it.

“Lan,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

“Mmh,” he hummed in response, his tone heavy with weariness.

“What's going on, baby?” she asked him, her concern evident in her voice.

“Nothing, just can't fall asleep again,” he lied, his words a feeble attempt to brush off her concerns.

“I know you better, Lan. Just tell me what's bothering you,” she implored, her voice gentle yet insistent. He sighed softly, feeling the weight of her gaze even in the darkness.

“It's just... everything,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. She shifted closer to him, her hand finding his in the darkness.

“Talk to me,” she urged, her voice a soothing presence in the stillness of the night.

“My mind just won't shut off,” he told her, his voice heavy with frustration. “I'm constantly thinking of every bad thing that could possibly happen.”

“You're scared of your dreams?” she clarified, her voice gentle but probing, seeking to understand the depths of his anxiety. He hesitated for a moment, grappling with the vulnerability of his admission.

“Not just my dreams. "I'm scared of what lies beyond them, too. The uncertainty, the unknown…” he confessed, his words a whispered admission of his deepest fears. Her hand tightened around his, a silent gesture of solidarity in the face of his turmoil.

“It's okay to be scared, Lan,” she reassured him, her voice a soothing presence in the darkness. “Tell me about your dreams. Maybe that helps get them out of your system.

He hesitated, the weight of his nightmares heavy upon him. But her gentle encouragement urged him to speak, to release the demons that haunted his restless nights.

“Sometimes I dream of the plane crashing, or sometimes it's me in the car,” he began, his words halting as he recounted the terrifying scenarios that played out in his mind. “Other times, it's the two of us driving somewhere, and we crash.”

As he spoke, the images of his nightmares came flooding back, each scene more vivid than the last.

“Then I have dreams about you literally disappearing off the face of the planet, and I can't find you no matter how hard I try,” he confessed, his voice trembling with the raw emotion of his fears.

“Lan, you know bad things can happen at any moment,” she tried to reassure him, her voice filled with compassion. “We can try our best to avoid them, but if it's meant to happen, it will. I know this is probably not what you want to hear, but you can't dwell on them. It sucks the joy out of life, and you love life.”

Her words echoed in the stillness of the night, a gentle reminder of the fragility of existence and the resilience of the human spirit. Despite the darkness that threatened to engulf him, she offered him a glimmer of hope, a lifeline to cling to in the face of his fears.

He listened, the weight of her words sinking into his soul. In her voice, he heard the wisdom of someone who had faced their own demons and emerged stronger for it. And though the shadows of his fears still lingered, he felt a spark of courage ignite within him, a determination to embrace life in all its uncertainty.

“I love you more, though,” Lando countered, his voice filled with affection despite the weight of his worries.

“And I will say it as often as you need to hear it - I love you so much, Lando Norris. And I'm not going anywhere,” she told him, her words a steadfast declaration of her unwavering commitment. With a tender gesture, she kissed the tip of his icy nose, her touch a gentle reminder of the warmth of their love.

“Now don't let silly dreams keep you up all night,” she teased, her voice laced with playful affection.

In her embrace, he found solace, a sanctuary from the storms that raged within him. And as they settled into each other's arms, he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

He kissed her tenderly before he slipped away into a blissful slumber, his heart lighter knowing she was by his side. All he needed was her assurance, her unwavering love a beacon of comfort in the darkness of his fears.

As he drifted off into sleep, she marvelled at the paradox of his own nature. The fun-loving guy, known for his infectious laughter and zest for life, harboured within him a wellspring of fear and anxiety about the uncertainties of existence.

But in her arms, he found respite from the tumult of his thoughts, a sanctuary where he could lay down his burdens and simply be. For she saw him not just as the jovial persona he presented to the world, but as the complex, multifaceted individual he truly was.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #formula one #mclaren racing #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff

[waldau]

ruminations — jeon wonwoo | 1,289 words | fluff

gender neutral reader. warnings: alcohol.

you're about to get up from the sofa and go to the bathroom to carry out your nighttime routine when the doorbell rings. that's odd; you're not expecting anyone at the moment.

but when you open the door, you see your tall boyfriend standing in front of you, being held up by his best friend, mingyu. literally being held up in the sense that mingyu has an arm around his waist and his other hand on wonwoo's back. wonwoo looks like he's putting zero effort into standing. his eyes widen when he looks at you, but he says nothing.

right. your boyfriend had gone for a party with the rest of his bandmates, and you'd asked him if he wanted to spend the night at your place afterwards, but you didn't expect him to be here almost an hour before the party ended.

you open your mouth, a couple of questions on your tongue, but mingyu shakes his head. "don't make him cry."

you're bemused by what he's said. "why...would i do that?"

"not that you'd— he's very wound up today. he just looks like he's going to cry at any moment."

you look at wonwoo. he's looking at you very seriously, like his actions are going to depend on what you're going to say next.

"hi, baby," you say carefully. wonwoo moves out of mingyu's grasp and into yours.

you're hardly as strong as mingyu, and you admit it takes quite some effort to make sure wonwoo doesn't fall. "just how much did he have?" you ask mingyu. wonwoo's hand finds its way to yours, fingers intertwining.

"not much at first, but then he lost a bet to hoshi, and..."

you tut. wonwoo is never really into playing drinking games. "you didn't stop him?"

"i would have, if we had been on the same team. it was funny watching him tug joshua's hair again and again."

you chuckle. "you're evil, you know that?"

mingyu's about to say something when wonwoo mumbles. "what's that?" you ask him.

"tired."

"of course you are. mingyu, thank you so much for—"

"hey, no problem. i know he'd do the same for me."

"get a girl first," wonwoo says, looking at his friend. you let out a surprised laugh while mingyu stands there with his mouth open.

"that's how you show your thanks to me?"

you push wonwoo inside, bidding mingyu goodnight before he shuts the door. "i think you need to sleep before the alcohol really hits you," you say. wonwoo hasn't let go of your hand even now.

you decide to take him into the kitchen to make him sit for a while and see if he needs some water, but he stands resolutely when you try to tug him forward.

"what is it?" you ask gently.

he blinks at you. "you look really good."

your words catch in your throat. it's not very often that wonwoo's verbal with his affection. "aw. thank you, wonwoo," you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

he shakes his head. "i mean it. did you know you look really pretty tonight?"

"now i do. thank you, baby. do you want some water?"

he shakes his head again, and doesn't budge when you try to get him into the kitchen.

"something on your mind?"

wonwoo simply takes his hand out of yours and holds your face with both his hands, tilting your head up so you face him. he looks tired, like he said, but his brown eyes are sparkling under his glasses. you can't tell if it's from the light, or—

"do you believe in reincarnation?"

"huh?"

"do you...believe in reincarnation?"

you rest your hands on wonwoo's, taking them off your face so you can talk easier, but you don't let go. "where did that come from?"

"i asked you first."

you sigh. "well...no."

wonwoo's lips part, and you realize those sparkles in his eyes are unshed tears which are now collecting along his waterline. "oh," he says in a small voice.

you're beyond confused. what the hell happened for mingyu to warn you not to make him cry? "wonwoo?" when he doesn't respond, you sink down to the ground and pull him, so he's sitting cross-legged in front of you. you're still holding onto his hands like they're a lifeline. "what made you ask me that?"

he shrugs and huffs. so you've hit some sore spot you didn't even know existed. "i'm taking off your glasses, okay?" he says nothing when you reach forward to slide them off his face and hook them to the collar of your shirt. then you push his hair back from his face.

"stop," he mumbles, but he doesn't make any effort to push you away.

"what? sorry, am i annoying you? do you want to go to bed?"

"no. this. being...cute."

"i'm just taking care of you? i haven't even done anything yet."

wonwoo sighs and takes one of your hands again, tracing it with his thumb.

you stand up, hoping he'll keep holding your hand so you can pull him to his feet. instead, he remains put in his place and that makes you fall into his lap.

"wonwoo?"

"minghao said something about...if he could become a mosquito, he'd trouble jun in every life. and i wondered if...you know."

you wait for him to gather his words, even though you think you know where this is headed.

"if you'd be with me in every life, too. but now..."

oh. "won—"

"it's okay. i'll...manage."

you can't help but giggle. he looks at you like you've offended him. "you're acting like i made my choice," you explain.

"didn't you?"

you trace the bridge of his nose. he closes his eyes. "wonwoo," you say slowly. you need to think it through, not hurt him. it's not like you've been dating very long; a year is just enough time for you to be serious about your relationship, but the fact that he's been thinking about being together in all your other lives too...

"hm."

"do you really see us together in every life?"

"you don't."

"i never said that."

"but you just said that you don't believe in—"

"i don't, but if i could always be with you...then i don't mind."

it's magical, seeing the hurt in his eyes vanish and be replaced by almost childlike wonder. "you'd...always be with me?"

"if i could trouble you forever, yes."

he laughs. he looks really good, you realize, sitting in your apartment, his hair hair all askew and his hands locked around your waist. the fact that he came back to you, to your place, and took up your offer instead of being hungover all by himself makes your heart warm.

"did i ever tell you?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"probably not?"

"i love you."

it's not often that you say this particular phrase to each other, because you're both better at actions than words, but you think this is a good time to say them.

wonwoo smiles dopily at you, and you can almost picture your future with him if you close your eyes. the thought makes you tingly inside, and even though he probably won't remember everything he's said tonight, you can't help but feel like your heart is beating loud enough for him to hear.

wonwoo pulls you closer, and you're filled with the sudden urge to press yourself as close to him as possible so this moment never passes. "i have another question."

"ask me after you change into something more comfortable than your jeans?"

"it won't take long." he tilts your chin down and you're so, so gone. "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

"...hoshi's so dead."

#1.2k is not the same as 1289 im sorry 😤 #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #wonwoo #fluff #waldau writes #🍃 — svt

[whateveriwant]

Can you please do Task force 141 finding out they’re having quintuplets! I’d imagine that they wouldn’t plan to have that many….at least not all at once 🧍‍♀️

Ghost

When the technician points out the five distinct dots on the ultrasound, he immediately goes dead silent

I mean, he's always pretty quiet anyway, but this is like quiet quiet

He doesn't utter a single word for the rest of the appointment, nor on the ride back home for that matter

This has you more concerned than you care to admit because you know that, not that long ago, he didn't think he'd ever have (much less want) kids of his own some day

So now that he's learned he's about to have five? You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now

It isn't until you're walking through the front door that you're being stopped with a gentle hand tugging on your wrist

You turn to look at him and, without a word, he drops to his knees before you, rolling up the bottom of your shirt to expose your belly

He'll press the softest of kisses just beside your navel, before looking up at you with expressive eyes that convey the foremost thought in his head: Thank you

Soap

Nearly shits a brick the moment the words leave the technician's mouth

All the color swiftly drains from his face and he has to sit down before he keels over right in the middle of the office

It's not so much fear that has him going paper white but pure shock at hearing the unexpected (yet not unhappy) news

While you'd already discussed having a big family together one day, you didn't think you'd get it done in one fell swoop

However, maybe you should've seen it coming since you both come from families that have had multiples

The possibility of this happening was decently high, so in a way, you're not all that surprised by the revelation

Once he's composed himself and is a little less ghostly pale in the face, he's eagerly requesting the technician to print out an excessive number of copies of the ultrasound

Why? Well, he's gotta send them to everyone, of course! His family, your family, all the lads at work. Hell, maybe your neighbor Charlie would like one too. Better print several just in case

Gaz

"C– Come again?" He thinks he misheard the technician at first

However, even hearing it a second time, he has to stand up, round the bed, and get about an inch away from the monitor to confirm for himself

It's almost comical the way his eyes widen at the screen, darting around the black and white image like he can't comprehend what he's seeing

It'll take some coaxing to get him back in his seat, and as he does, you hear him mumbling to himself – something about nappies, never sleeping again, and *shudders* University

At some point, out of the corner of your eye, you see him messing with his hands

He's putting his palm in front of his own stomach then drawing it about a foot or two away, as if trying to visualize the size your belly is destined to grow

Even when you get back home, it's like reality hasn't fully hit him yet

It's not until you find him at 2am looking up double decker prams that you realize it's finally starting to sink in, and he's more than ready for the challenge ahead

Price

Seems awfully calm when the technician breaks the news to you two

Based on his reaction – a light smile and mere "Oh, that's wonderful" – you'd think he'd just been informed of the weather or something

To be honest, his reaction (or lack thereof) is a little disarming, but you don't comment on it until you're buckling up in the car, mentioning his seeming total lack of nerves about the future

He chuckles and jokes that he already has to look after three big kids at work. What's five little ones at home to compare?

Though you think you can see what he's getting at, his cool-headedness about it all still has you in a bit of a tizzy

Is he not even a little surprised by the news? After all, it's not every day that people fall pregnant with quintuplets

At your question, he smiles and leans to press a bristly kiss to the back of your hand. When he pulls back, he's smirking, giving you the smuggest look you've ever seen from a man

"Told you I've got strong swimmers, love"

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #kyle garrick #john price #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #wiw asks

[stormberry-12]

the pogues/ESPECIALLY JJ would protect innocent!reader SO MUCH. like she could be the youngest or something and they would go back for her (for ex. when they had to leave jb in s3). anyways jj would so definitely say something like, “you’re like their little sister, but you’re MY girl.” yk

my woman ~ jj maybank x reader

Ahh yes, I totally agree, and I LOVE the innocent!reader and JJ trope>>>

summary: in the ask! not from season 3 but a close concept. :)

pairing: jj x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: slight language, reader in danger, mega fluff.

notes: lowercase intended, this was made late at night and not rlly edited srry if its bad lmao, (jj requests open still)

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

you shifted around and felt the sun on your face as your eyes fluttered open. you were in the twinkie bumping along a winding road, clinging onto jj, who was sitting in his seat, like a koala. or as jay called it, "the front pack", it was like a piggyback but on his front because he always wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.

you shifted your legs around his torso and lifted your head from the crook of his neck.

"hiya, cupcake," he whispered softly, taking one of his arms that was wrapped around you and moving it so he could brush strands of hair from out of your eyes. "good nap?"

you nodded, wiping the sleep from your eyes, and he smiled. you suddenly recalled how you had gotten here and relief washed over you.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

you were running through alleyways on the cut, you felt betrayed. where had the pogues gone? they were there with you five seconds ago and now you were running away from those bloody square groupers alone.

over by the pogues, jj was having a mental breakdown, "where did she go man?"

"damn it!" john b exclaimed."pope, i thought she was behind you when we cut down this way!

"we have to go back for her-" jj houghed.

"i don't know jay..."

"no... no. we have to." he held his hat in one hand and ran the other through his hair in distress.

"he's right, we have to." pope agreed.

"come on man, we finally lost those guys and now you want to follow em?" john b sighed.

"jb you of all people should understand, she's like a little sister to you man! she's still only 16 and this kind of stuff scares the shit out of her, i can't do that to her guys-"

"john b we're going after her," kie pleaded.

"god! we're wasting time, i'm gonna go after her, even if i have to do it by myself!" jj ran off in your last seen direction. john b gave in and followed along with the rest of the pogues, they all knew jj was right, and their group wouldn't survive without you.

as you continued to run, blood pumping through your ears, you looked for the best spot to hide behind, trying to throw them off. you slid behind a large dumpster and listened as the sets of footsteps of the two men ran past you.

you waited a moment, calming your breathing before you moved from behind the bin. you jumped as the footsteps came back in your direction, but instead of those square groupers, it was jj and the pogues.

"y/n!" j sighed in relief scooping you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, that will never happen again-"

you just stood there too exhausted to complain, your face buried in his chest. john b brought the twinkie around the corner and you all piled in, driving off into the night.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

"you came back for me," you smiled at your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his neck, still facing him on his lap.

"of course," jj said. "you know you're like their little sister, we honestly would fall apart without you... and your my girl."

"your girl?" you giggled.

"my girl, my woman, my soulmate." he repeated smoothly pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. "you sure you're okay?"

"yeah," you said, leaning into his touch, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "perfect,"

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

#jj maybank blurb #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #obx fanfiction #outer banks #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope hayward #sarah cameron #innocent reader #obx

[feyascorner]

blurry eyes

summary. Orin takes Astarion as a hostage and you nearly lose your mind trying to get him back. Even when you do, things aren't the way they used to be.

warnings. angst/comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. fluffier break from TFBU bec it's draining the soul out of me🧍‍♀️ this is kinda messy but for me orin always kidnaps lae’zel and Im glad it’s never astarion but what if;;;

You're not yourself. Everyone knows it. Not since Orin showed up at camp wearing Astarion's face, his own blood smeared on the poor imitation of the cheeks you love so deeply. She taunted you, smiling wickedly in a way that made your stomach churn before you lunged at her with a blade, only for her to vanish into a mist of red.

You usually prefer to use your silver tongue to get out of a dangerous situation. But now, all you want to see is her blood sprayed across a wall.

There are bags under your eyes, going days without sleep. You hadn't realized how accustomed you'd become to his arms cradling you in the dead of night, his cold hands wrapped around your shoulders and your cheek pressed against the crook of his neck. You hadn't realized how attached you'd gotten to him.

The fight is quick. Despite your companion's warnings to get some rest, you charged into Bhaal's temple the moment you had access to it, and rightfully so, because she didn't stand a chance against your wrath.

And now, even with him at your fingertips, laying so peacefully on a stone slab with his eyes shut, all you can feel is the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You gently touch his cheek, and you find that it's cold, as it's always been. There's a slice of a knife, surely to leave a scar if it's not treated well. You smile a bit, the first time in days, thinking of how he'd complain about the blemish a few weeks from now.

He finally stirs, and when his eyes peel open to your face, his face falls.

"Gods above," he whispers. "Stop with the damn tricks, Orin. I'm no fool."

Your heart breaks. And while all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and wipe away his frown, the adrenaline holding you together is long gone. You're exhausted, you realize, only managing to grab the edge of the stone slab before you crumple onto your knees, vision going blurry.

Ah, maybe you should have rested.

No, not when he'd been here to suffer alone, forced to face Orin's blood-thirst. Not when you'd smelled his blood on her blade.

You want to comfort him, but nothing comes through your throat.

The two of you don't speak much. He doesn't speak much to anyone, for that matter, for a few days. You can sense the uneasiness of your other companions, who don't dare ask what Orin did to him while you'd nearly lost yourself trying to get to him. You don't approach him, fearing he might recoil away.

The only thing you can do is watch over him while he writhes in his bed, drenched with sweat and nightmares you cannot take away. You're not even sure if they're about Cazador or Orin anymore, but you can't bring yourself to touch him or the healing scar on his cheek in hopes of soothing him.

It's only two weeks later when most of your companions have gone out, and it's just the two of you on opposite sides of the room. You rub at your blade with a cloth, numbly focused on sharpening it for a bigger foe while he's still reading his book in a silence that should feel comfortable but only makes your mouth dry.

"Hells, I can't do this anymore."

You blink as he strides across the room, and he's suddenly sitting next to you while you continue staring at him like he grew a mushroom from his head. "Do what?"

"We must talk about---well, you know, darling."

Even in this brittle stage of your relationship, the way he says your nickname is loving. It makes your heart squeeze.

You place the blade on the ground. "Okay. We can talk."

There's a silence that hangs in the air before he sighs. "Torture is not a foreign concept to me, my dear. If my years under Cazador's palace did anything for me, it's made my pain tolerance impossibly high."

You frown. This does not make you feel better.

He eyes you from the side, leaning back on both his hands. "What I'm trying to say is, you don't have to worry so much about me. Even if I were to perish, I'm sure there are other vampires willing to help you with your cause to defeat the Elder Brain, though they'd be considerably less charming."

You're immediately on your feet. "Of course, I was worried about you! And I don't care if you've gone through hell and back, pain is still pain, and I don't want to see or think about you even stepping foot into something like that, much less the temple of the Lord of Murder!"

He stands after you. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Other vampires?" you say in disbelief. "Well, I don't want other vampires, I want the one that I can't even sleep without."

Your eyes are glossy now, and you hate yourself for it. You should be consoling him, not becoming emotional over the torture that he experienced. But the words come out like vomit, and you can't stop yourself.

"Love, please don’t ruin your pretty face with tears,” he tries, hands awkwardly hanging in the air as he struggles to find what to do.

“Don't act like getting kidnapped isn't a big deal," you swipe at your eyes. "You won't even talk to us."

He blinks. "Me? Avoid speaking with you?"

"Yes!"

"Well, forgive me for giving you space. You looked positively demented after you were done stabbing that vile woman to the death, I assumed you needed time to recover before I could approach you."

"What? I was giving you space."

"I assure you it was the other way around.”

“You were avoiding me!”

“Because you were avoiding me!”

You're both just staring at each other now, at a loss of words for what turned out to be a miscommunication that should have been resolved days ago. The silence hangs thickly in the air, and a rush of emotions runs between you two, expressions shifting every few moments before they simultaneously become one.

He purses his lips to refrain from smiling. You stifle a laugh.

Then you're both laughing and while the topic of discussion does not warrant as such, you can't help yourself when days of ignoring one another have come down to such a minor bump between you. When both of you calm, you sigh again, this time in utter relief. "This was anticlimactic."

"It was," he confirms. "But this one time, I don't mind."

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest while he returns the gesture by holding you tighter. You stand there a bit, quietly, until he clears his throat.

"For the record, I don't want you to go around searching for other vampires."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You decide he can tell you more about what happened when the time comes, but now, you're more than happy the way you are.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #bg3 tav #bg3

[moondirti]

Your ghostsoap x preg!reader!!??? I'm in love I need more of this. You have more thoughts for that universe? I just fell in love with your writing.

Let me camp in this corner of your blog, I'm friendly and don't bite (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

they're all i've been able to think about all day. of course i have more to say <3 if you're curious, anon is referring to this, which should be read before this part.

tags: DARK FIC. manipulation. vehicle tampering. planned abduction. pregnant fem!reader. established ghostsoap – who are not the fathers but would definitely like to be. mentions of somnophilia

Delusional as they might be, it's hard to justify something as egregious as blunt-force kidnapping. Though it briefly occurs to Simon – to pluck you from the parking lot and drive off the hour after they decide to keep you – the logistics don't iron out. Of chief concern, you're six months pregnant. What they'd typically use for POW's thus become's inconsiderable for you; Johnny's the wiz, but even he knows the effects chloroform can have on a foetus. The alternative isn't any better, either – his partner just balks at the idea of tying you up and throwing you in the trunk. (She'll never git ower it, Si. Dae ye want her tae hate us?)

So, things unfold in a far subtler manner.

They go home that night they first meet you. Can't coordinate without resting on it, they rationalise, without scoping their place to assure it's suitable for their soon-to-be-mother. They tuck away the knives laying on random countertops, air out the quilts gifted to them by Johnny's ma in an attempt to make their room cozier. And when they sleep, they dream of you tucked in between them, knocked out, sex-drunk. Dressed in nothing but a shirt, cunt bared for either of them to toy with throughout the night.

Hours upon hours later, well into noon the next day, Simon wakes to find his boy rutting into his thigh, still somewhat comatose, and sneaks a rough hand into his boxers to tug the tension out of the poor thing. They only get up as the fissures of dusk begin to spread across the sky, loading their car with a toolbox and making the drive back to The Dahlia, staking out in the parking lot as they wait for you to arrive for your shift.

(Johnny had deployed the old charm as you brought out their food in two baggies last night, disguising the trap with a lilting laugh as he audibly wondered why you picked up such a late shift.

You’d only shrugged and said you preferred to work nights.)

Sure enough, you pull up in a beat-up Kia at 2200, fussing with your bag as you stumble to the back entrance of the roadhouse.

"Forgot to lock it." He mutters, following your form until it disappears from view. Johnny only frowns, tightening his fingers over his thumb. A little nervous tick.

"Should we be doin' this?"

"And what is this?" Simon turns to appraise the scotsman, larger hand enveloping his, calloused fingertips smoothing over scarred knuckles. "Y'think they'd be kinder to 'er? The type of scum we know grace this earth? It's a wonder she made i' this far, Johnny."

He isn't convinced.

"Look a' me." Blue eyes widen to meet his, dark as their owner battles intuitions that have always been straighter than the Ghosts'. "Wanna give 'er a good life, yeah?"

"Aye. The best."

"Would she be so convinced?" But he knows the answer. They both saw the way you withdrew after being hit on, losing the effusiveness you initially greeted them with. Avoidant. Classic case of hyper-competency, perhaps the very reason you put up with such shitty circumstances to begin with. A stubborn knot they'll have to undo themselves.

And Johnny likes the challenge.

"Lass's got something tae prove." Moments pass in silence. Then: "Ah’ll get th' wire."

"Atta' boy."

They only enter the establishment an hour before the end of your shift. It’s 0600 and space is sleepy. At a point that had escaped their notice, someone had made the choice to shut the overhead fluorescents, and so all that functions to illuminate the dinette is the pale dawn outside. Johnny finds he prefers it like this, grumbling a tired endorsement, before branching off in search of the bathroom, hand rubbing the sore column of his throat.

The softening mass in his pants jumps once Simon catches sight of you, balancing two trays in one hand as you wipe down the serving hatch. He doesn’t need to say anything. You catch the dark blur of him in the corner of your eye, shuffling into a booth, where he occupies an entire side with the mere spread of his legs.

“Hello again. Just you today?” You’re twirling your pen, cradling your belly, and he notes the perpetual shadow cast under your eyes. Poor pet.

He shakes his head, then cocks it toward the loo. “Think he’ll have a go at the toastie today.”

“Good choice. Hard to fuck up.” You give him a tired smile. “And for you?”

“M’good.”

“You sure? Look like you’ve been on the road again, and-" You pause, the water of your eyes rippling as you appraise his mask. Something seems to click just then, because you nod and tuck your notepad away. “I’ll ask again at the end. Maybe you’ll want something to-go.”

In the end, they do take something to go.

Not as greasy as the toastie Johnny spends the hour tearing into, glossing the pads of his fingers with oil. Nor as sour as the coffee he sipped on last night, burnt and way past freshness, just like you’d warned them about. But a much, much sweeter keepsake. Something that’ll sate them for much longer.

You’ve already clocked out once they leave The Dahlia, faces grim but as innocent as they can possibly muster. Sure enough, you’re out standing by your car, wiping tears with the back of your hand. They’re close enough that they can catch snippets of your conversation on the phone (No, I don’t– and It is old but never–).

They wait until you grow desperate, hiccuping – Don’t have that kind of money. Please – before intervening.

“Hey. What’s the matter, hen?” Johnny approaches first, concern no faux thing, smoothing a hand down your arm. What Simon said earlier comes back around (Wanna give 'er a good life?) and his chest tightens at the sheer despair he sees etched across your face. You shouldn’t be this stressed about anything this far along, should have someone taking care of you.

He, they, can be that for you. Could give you everything you ask for and more.

“M-my car. I-I don’t– I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with it, and–”

“Shhh, issalright. Not starting, eh?”

“No. And I have to- to get home before… before–”

Simon steps in, crowding you against the side of your car. You don’t have it in you to look for the red flags; the glances they throw one another, the subtle crinkle in the masked one’s eyes as he smiles. No, you don’t– can’t consider it dangerous. Not when these two wonderfully kind men, who tipped you 100% of their bill both times they came in, are one of your only means of getting help.

“Where do you live? We’ll drive ya if it’s on our way.” A lie. They’ll drive you regardless, and you won’t be taken home.

“Oh- no. That’s okay, really. I’ll just a-ask my boss if I can get a sub on my pay, and–”

Johnny smooths a finger across your cheek.

“Nonsense, hen. It’ll be a skoosh.”

next part

#༄dee answers #ive got a massive headache this is probably the worst thing ive ever written #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x Johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghostsoap #ghoap #x reader #ghost #soap #cod #call of duty #simon riley #john mactavish #x female reader