#and they fit so well because they freeze during the day

[ddejavvu]

asking anakin to pin you to the wall or choke you using the force 🥵

mei i would BEG him on my hands and knees

so this covers inappropriate uses of the force that go far beyond choking because i have far too many thoughts on the concept and couldn't stop myself there, oops!

obvious cw for choking/restraint, don't read if it will bother you.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

well we definitely know he doesn't have an aversion to force-choking !! he's very tactile, and he most likely already has asked, or you've asked him, to choke you during sex. he loves it. he loves feeling the rush of your blood under his hand, he loves feeling your life sitting completely bare beneath his fingers like that, his hand against your skin. with his flesh hand, which soaks up the heat of your neck as he slowly wraps his fingers around you, squeezing until he can feel your heart thumping wildly through your pulse and smothering his skin into your warmth. with his prosthetic hand, which is chilly and unrelenting without its leather glove, and darkly sexy with it. It doesn't matter which hand he uses, he gets remarkably turned on by the way that you lean into it, the way that you bare your neck- your life for him to use like a plaything.

you'd watched him crumple a can of booze with the Force the other day; something cheap he'd wasted his credits on for the thrill of it. his gloved hand had formed the shape of the can, then squeezed inward gracefully, and the metal had crumpled formlessly into a mangled wreck that Anakin had slipped through a rather narrow trash compactor opening. He'd only done it to avoid getting caught with the liquor, but your throat stings when you think about the way that his black glove had tightened slowly, deliberately, mercilessly around nothingness as the can crumpled.

you have to ask him.

you had meant to have a discussion with him about it, a structured, clear conversation about whether he was comfortable with it, not only the act but the blatant disrespect of the code by a rather improper use of the Force. but he'd gotten handsy after returning from a day of sparring, and when his hand reaches for your throat, hips pumping steadily against your own and driving his cock into you forcefully with each thrust, you reach up to stop it.

You clutch at his hand and pull it away from your neck, eyes pleading as he stares worriedly down at you. He lets you deter him from your neck, thrusts petering out into a slow rhythm when you whine after he stops them altogether.

"What's wrong?" He asks bluntly, because anakin has never beaten around the bush, "Why can't I choke you?"

"I want you to," You clear your suddenly dry throat, ready to explain but yanking his hand back down when he tries resuming his original endeavor, "Wait- Anakin, I want you to use the Force!"

that stops him. your core aches and begs for him to resume his steady thrusting, but he's sheathed himself completely in your cunt, so you're stuffed to the brim while he contemplates your words. You feel bad for putting him on the spot, but his eyes darken a shade as some of the light leaves them, and his brow twitches.

"What?"

"I want you to choke me with the Force," You repeat, craning your neck down to kiss at the black leather pads of his gloved fingers, "Please, Anakin, I- I just want- just like you do normally, but with the Force. I know it's- improper, and- and disrespectful to the Force, but-"

All of a sudden, your lungs freeze in their pursuit of oxygen, and words fail you. Your chest is still, no air entering or escaping, and Anakin's fingers twitch slightly where he loosens his disembodied grip on your windpipe just enough for you to take in a proper breath.

"I am the Force," He speaks through gritted teeth, and his words flood your core with heat just as much as the relentless grip on your throat does, "Holding back would be disrespectful." He leans over you, his hand maintaining both pressure and distance as he fits his body around it. He remains fully immersed in your cunt, his dick stuffed inside of you as you clench around him desperately, and his breath is hot on your face as he towers above you.

"Not telling me what you want, would be disrespectful." He lectures, eyes only growing darker as you feel your lungs burning in your chest. You gasp for air, only able to drag in a miniscule amount as he continues closing his fingers around your windpipe, "I never feel closer to the Force than when I am inside of you. I am the Force, we are the Force, and hiding anything that would strengthen that force would be disrespectful."

You take in another rattling breath, but his fingers cut you off completely, sending a bolt of overwhelming pleasure to your core as the leather of his glove creaks slightly with the twitch of his fingers.

"Understand?" He asks, and you nod vigorously.

"Speak." He commands, loosening his grip so that you can gush, 'Yes! Yes, Anakin, I understand!"

"Good." He seals off your airway once more, that delicious burning feeling transferring straight from your chest to your cunt, your thighs trembling slightly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

the two of you share intense orgasms that night, both now enamored by this concept. it's a complete power trip for anakin, the fact that he doesn't even have to touch you to have your life in his hands? his hand doesn't need to contact your skin for it to get you hot and bothered, he can turn you on from a mile away.

this might be a problem for you, though. because anakin is nothing if not creative and inventive, which means that you feel invisible fingers gently nudging themselves against your cunt one day. you're at home, anakin's reading through a report while you're curled up watching something, but you startle at the touch nonetheless, eyes peeled for whatever had touched you.

you notice anakin's hand poised with two fingers outstretched, that dark glint in his eyes once more as he leans back in his chair. he nudges his fingers forwards again, and you feel that prodding at your core, an embarrassingly intense gush of raw lust aching below your stomach.

"Anakin..." You warn, but you're not sure if the apprehension is leveled at him, or yourself. warning him to be careful, warning yourself to maintain composure, neither work.

He strokes his fingers slightly back and forth, rubbing down the length of your slit, then ending at your clit. it's such a familiar sensation but unnervingly new at the same time, and you can't withhold your gasp as he pushes ever so slightly to breach the tension of your lips. with a twitch of his finger he rubs against your clit and though you're woefully underlubricated, all he has to do is continue running those tantalizingly invisible fingers over your core and soon enough you're clenching around emptiness that's quickly filled with his nonexistent fingers.

it's a strange sensation, but anakin's eyes are glued predatorily to the way that your cunt widens and narrows with every pump of his fingers, and his hand twitches in mid-air as he brings you towards your climax. he's mesmerized, he's never been able to see such an unobstructed view of your convulsing cunt before, and you'll be lucky to escape from his relentless fingers before you're nearly passed out in exhaustion from cumming so many times in a row. he studies you, gets down on his knees in front of the couch to peer transfixed into your cunt as he finger-fucks you with a hand that isn't there. he's now addicted to force-fucking you, so expect it to happen at rather inopportune times.

another favorite tactic of his is to force your mouth open with just a wave of his hand. he loves to see you choking yourself on his cock but you've both discovered there's something deeply sexy about being restrained, and instead of just kneeling above your face and throat-fucking you, he decides to take your mouth with the Force. he holds it ajar, the perfect circumference for his cock, and fucks your mouth, using that invisible appendage to keep your lips parted as you gag and sob on him. your hands fly up to grab at his hips but you're not trying to push him off, no, you're yanking him forwards, dragging him down, begging him to stuff his leaking, twitching cock even further down your throat. even when he cums down your throat and releases his hold on your mouth you leave it hanging open, panting with the effort of simply breathing, and trying to wrap your head around just how fucking hot what he just did was.

if/when you ask him to pin you to the wall, he's so fucking cocky about it. these insufferable smirks as he pushes you up against it, pinning your limbs in place and leaning in to talk with his nose brushed against yours.

'Yeah? You want me to hold you down, baby? You want me to take whatever I want from you, don't you?'

you nod, the only part of your body still at your free will being your head, and it bumps against the wall in your vigor but you don't care. all you care about is letting him take control of you, is being splayed out on the wall like a trophy for him, and letting him do whatever he pleases.

'Good,' he leans in to kiss you, hot and wet and careless and sloppy, 'Good, angel. Maker, I'm obsessed with you. You're so good, so pretty-" as he trails his hand across your still torso, his thumb dipping between your legs to nudge fondly over your clit, 'you're mine.'

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Bridal Shop ft Nanami Kento

Rating: 18+, MDNI Warnings: Sex, vaginal and clitoral fingering, oral Featuring: Nanami Kento x female reader Word Count: 2590 Summary: A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner takes over your appointment A/N: All images are from pinterest and are linked at the bottom of the post for credit. Inspiration for the wedding dress was this.

Nanami masterlist

You skipped merrily into the bridal shop, ready for the final fitting. The wedding was only 2 weeks away. A healthy pink glow was visible on your face. Most would say it’s because your wedding day is approaching. Your best friend would tease you that it’s because of the bridal shop owner.

The sweet old woman who had assisted you during your first fitting spots you immediately and waves you over to her. She grasps your hands with wrinkled knotted hands and smiles brightly at you. “Not too long now…You must be very excited!”

“Indeed I am!” You chirp back excitedly. “Will it be a while or…?”

“Not at all! We’re ready for you now. On straight through to the back. Fitting room 2.”

You thank the woman and waltz back into the stall. Not too shortly after the tailor comes in, exchanging warm greetings with you, asking you how wedding planning was going, as she carefully helps you fit into the dress, gently buttoning up the pearl fastenings on the back as she fusses with the skirt, whirling it out around you. Your breath catches as you look at yourself in the mirror.

The dress had been fitted perfectly, the waistline pure perfection to the last millimeter. With the tulle and illusion sleeves, it was like right out of a dream. You feel yourself tear up as you see yourself in the mirror. It was so pretty, beyond your imagination. Ever prepared, the tailor quickly offers you a tissue and a gentle smile. 

“I’ll let you have a moment. Let it all soak in. Let me know when you’re ready to have it taken off.” The tailor exits quietly through the door. You spin around, admiring yourself from all angles. You’re so happy you listened to your fiance when he had insisted on going with this one. 

A fairy tale dress for a princess, he had said. Your smile widens as you do one last twirl. You hear the handle of the fitting room rattle, and turn to tell the tailor you’re ready to change, then freeze when you see who’s standing in the doorway.

Sharp brown eyes look at you with such intensity that you blush. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he takes in the sight of you in your wedding dress. The owner of the bridal shop was quite a striking man, with his physique, styled blonde hair, and impressive height. 

“I wasn’t aware that you visited brides during their fittings.” Your mouth had gone dry. He looked so immaculate in tailored pants and a waistcoat, shirt fitting beautifully to his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing corded, well toned forearms. 

He chuckles at your comment, then steps in, locking the door behind him. Your heart skips a beat and you almost miss his next words over the rush of blood in your ears. 

“Never. But this dress…I have a special affinity for it.”

He stands right behind you, admiring you in the mirror. His eyes rove over the small details of the dress, the little plunge of the neckline, almost modest, between your breasts, the cups of the dress pushing them up flatteringly. 

Nanami Kento was a heartthrob in this locality. Who wouldn’t notice the handsome bridal shop owner? Women were known to wander into the shop to catch a glimpse at him, pretending to be window shopping. Many a bride had blushed as he walked with them through the shop, pulling gowns and asking questions about their dress preferences, giggling as he politely asked to see their rings. 

“Yes…I think this last fitting was much needed. Look at how flattering it looks on your body now.” His large hands softly rest on your waist as you feel rushes of heat run through you. You try your best to not look at the mirror, lest he see how flustered you were getting. His cologne was filling your senses, a deep musky scent that added a forbidden allure. 

“I was right in thinking this lace would look flattering on you.” One of his hands moves towards your front, his long fingers gently tracing the line of fabric near your collarbone, sending skitters of electricity through you. Your heart thumps in your chest as you try to keep your composure.

“Ah…thank you.” You manage to say. “You do have a good eye for what looks best.” You can hear how your voice has taken on a breathy quality and try to focus. You had plans after this, meeting with your bridesmaids for dinner. 

Nanami smiles at your praise, then says, so close to your ear, “Why aren’t you wearing any jewelry today? Apart from your ring I mean.”

His breath makes you tingle with need, making you tongue tied, words stumbling over each other. “I-ah-ahem. Should I be wearing…jewelry?”

“You should. Most brides wear a necklace after a fitting to make sure it doesn’t clash with the neckline.” His fingers creep up from your collarbone to the hollow at the base of your throat and your breath catches. 

“And earrings,” he adds, his other hand abandoning your waist to gently massage your bare earlobe. You feel uncomfortable heat starting to gather between your thighs and resist the urge to lean back against his muscular frame. Your eyes close as he continues to fondle the soft piece of flesh then almost jump out of your skin as his hot breath tickles your other ear.

“Earrings help you figure out if you've chosen the right veil or not.” His lips were practically touching the shell and a strangled gasp leaves your lips.

“You really are the ideal representation of a blushing bride,” Nanami murmurs softly. His hands start to play with your hair, and you swallow, trying to gather the vestiges of your rapidly fading sensibility. 

“Have you decided if you’re wearing your hair up or down?” His fingers swirl the locks of hair flowing down your shoulders, making a loose bun with them at the nape of your neck. It takes you a moment to process his question, the movements of fingers feeling deliciously seductive. 

“Up.” You didn’t trust yourself to say another word.

He nods, leaning forward to look over your shoulder into the mirror. “I think that’s a good choice. Plays well with your features.” His fingers skim over your cheek which looked positively rosy now.

“Were you done with your fitting?”

You give yourself a little shake mentally. “Yes.” You wished he would stop stroking you so tenderly. You were starting to have thoughts quite opposite to the image of a demure bride. 

“I actually need to call back the tailor to help me with this-”

“No need.” He cuts you off smoothly, leaving no room for objection. “I assume she’s busy. And it’s a small task. I can help you.”

With patience, Nanami starts undoing the small pearl buttons. You stand, embarrassment rising, but unable to resist. He was so charming, eyes focused on his task, while you stole glances at him in the mirror, the sharp, chiseled features of his face, the lovely hue of brown his eyes were. You shiver as air hits your bare skin, his fingers going lower and lower, finally reaching the last few buttons near your waist. He spreads apart the fabric, hands caressing your back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, waiting until your eyes met his before sliding the dress off your shoulders, carefully holding the skirt to avoid wrinkling it, revealing the adorable pink lace bra you had worn in hopes of surprising your fiance later. He grips the bodice carefully and moves away from you.

“Step out.” Nanami’s voice isn’t demanding; it was a request. Feeling like your legs had turned to jello, you lift one leg, then the other, stepping out of the dress before he grabs a hanger to put it away. You can feel your sex throb from need and squeeze your legs together, acutely aware that the matching pink panties must have a stain now from your dripping core. 

Once he’s secured the dress, his attention falls back to you. His eyes stop at your thighs. “No garter to go with the dress?”

You glance up at him shyly. “Are garters part of the dress fitting?”

“They should be,” he murmurs before closing the gap between you, his lips covering yours. The tension that had been building inside you snaps and you respond hungrily, body pressing unashamedly against his, feeling the hard muscles under his clothes. 

“You do look good in pink,” he says in a husky voice as you both break apart, only for him to start placing wet kisses on your neck, his hands expertly snapping open the catch of your bra with the same ease as he did with the buttons on your wedding dress. His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them, before his thumbs rest on the centers of your hardened nipples, moving them in circles, the friction making you feel weak at the knees. Your mouth finds his again, tongues brushing against each other, his fingers softly tweaking and pulling the hardened peaks. Your moans are muffled, lost in the greed of his kiss. 

He pulls back before guiding you over to the chair that sits in the corner of the fitting room, helping you comfortably straddle him, softly suckling on one of your nipples while his hands roam down your back, squeezing your waist, holding you tight as you whimper and moan. His hands eventually slide down to your ass, gripping the fat covetously, before slipping below the scanty lace that covered your pussy.

“Why do brides always abstain from sex a few weeks before the wedding?” Nanami muses as he presses dexterous fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp.  

“I-it’s not-” You choke out, unable to form coherent words.

“Look at this.” There’s a raspy quality to Nanami’s voice as he pulls out his fingers for your inspection, covered with your arousal. “Hardly did anything and you’re already making a mess. Honestly, why do you brides do this to yourselves?”

He licks his fingers clean before gripping you under your thighs, momentarily lifting you up, before standing and seating you on the chair instead. Your legs spread apart wantonly, thoughts of decency thrown out the window. Nanami hooks his index around the fabric covering your crotch, pulling it to the side, spreading apart your glistening labia with his other hand. The tangy scent of need hits his nose and he licks a line up from your entrance to your clit, before laying his tongue over the swollen bud, licking sensually. 

You’re trying your best to muffle your noises and failing spectacularly, moans getting louder and needier as he tenderly alternates between sucking and licking your clit, the variations driving out all reasoning, leaving only primal thoughts in your head. Unashamedly, you grind against his mouth, desperate for a release. You sob with delight as he inserts a finger, followed by a second, stretching you out, making you feel deliciously full. You had been abstaining and didn’t realize how much you had missed it. His fingers curl up into that small patch inside you, matching his movements to the pace of his tongue on your clit. Your hands move involuntarily, pulling at his hair, back arching against the chair as he pushes you over the edge. 

A loud, lewd sound leaves your lips as the orgasm takes over, feeling your pussy spasm pleasurably, clit pulsating, wave after wave racking your system. He doesn’t spare a second, quickly unzipping his trousers and adjusting you before slipping his cock into your wetness. 

You were unprepared for the sudden intrusion, making you gasp in shock as you adjust to his thickness, pussy still fluttering from your climax. Your legs wrap around his waist as he moves closer, almost folding you in half and he starts to thrust into you. 

“Fuck…so tight…looks like abstinence…made your pussy forget…how to take cock…” he says between breaths, his movements so sinfully slow, ensuring you feel every inch of him, taking note of every small spasm your body makes around him. 

You whine at his slow thrusts, needing more. “Kento…”

“Did you need something my dear?” You want to shake him for his ability to sound so polite, like you were having tea together instead of him being buried in your cunt. 

“I need more…please…” You can’t keep the urgency out of your voice. His eyes darken at your request.

“Desperate to cum on my cock are you?” he teases, pulling back until he’s almost about to pull out the tip before slamming back into you, making you moan noisily. His hips snap into you, placing his fingers into your mouth, the unspoken command clear in his eyes; wet them.

You suck his fingers, moistening them with your saliva before he removes them, using the lubrication to rub circles onto your clit. The sensation combined with the force of him fucking into you makes your eyes roll back into your head. You were so close, and judging by his grunts and movements getting sloppier, so was he. 

“Such a sweet bride…you’ll be an even sweeter mother someday…” He pants as he maintains a rhythm, close to his own climax. You feel the familiar feeling of heat and tension building in your belly, coiling like a spring waiting to be set free. Soon enough, a second climax rips through you, stealing the breath from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as it grips you. With a grunt, Nanami’s hips snap forward aggressively and you feel his cock spasm, little twitches inside your pussy as he empties himself into you. 

Sated, both of you pant, trying to catch your breath. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues, using one to clean up and catch his cum as he slips out of you. He gently runs another one down your slit, cleaning you up as best as he can.

“Not just good for an emotional bride,” he jokes as he wads up the used tissues.

Your muscles ache in protest as he lowers your legs to the floor. He smiles at your state, exhausted, fucked out in the sweetest way possible. Nanami fusses with your hair, trying to bring it back to a state of decency before handing you your bra.

“You’d better hurry up and get dressed. Dinner with the bridesmaids at 7, yeah?”

OUTSIDE THE FITTING ROOM:

The tailor who had been assisting you was relatively new and she was now waiting in the back break room along with the elderly woman who had greeted you earlier. She clicks her tongue impatiently. 

“I saw Mr. Nanami go into the fitting room she was in…should I be concerned?” she asks the older woman.

The wizened lady giggles at her. The tailor frowns. “What? Am I missing something?”

“That’s his fiancee that came in for a fitting. I say let’s give them a few more minutes. I’m sure he’s already helped her put away the gown.” She laughs heartily at the dumbstruck look on the tailor’s face. 

“Wha-but-” the tailor splutters. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in the wedding dress before the wedding?”

“Considering he’s the one that designed it, I think an exception can be made. Now hush and get back out front. There’s other customers that need attending to.”

wedding themed divider by: @/ fairytopea Image 1Image 2Image 3

Support banner by @/cafe kitsune

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento smut #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 17

Attempt #2

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, mentions of smut but SFW chapter, he's such a scatterbrain

Length: 1k words

Callob with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After pushing through the rest of the dinner, and simultaneously creating a new plan inside his head, he’s currently slowly waking up again.

The bed in this home truly is amazing, and he makes a mental note to ask Maria after this trip what kind of mattress she uses here. One look to the side offers him a good look at you still fast asleep, hugging one of the pillows while your legs are very much thrown entirely over his lower body. You always sleep this close to him- and he loves it, wouldn’t have it any other way if ever asked. Even his hand is still holding yours- something you do even if you end up fighting. Or rather, most of the time.

During your biggest low yet, he’d only been able to latch his hand onto the hem of your shirt maybe, and even then, only if you were asleep already.

But right now, you’re fine again- and he can hold you as much as he sees fit once more. So he sleepily reaches over to pull you close, just to freeze halfway through it, remembering yesterday’s dilemma he’s had to face. He’s got to make sure it’s there this time, because if it isn’t he’s royally fucked, and everything was basically for nothing.

He slowly unravels himself from the covers and you as well, before he walks towards his travel bag, just to find it zipped shut. Fuck. There’s no way he can open this without you waking up- so he has to find a different moment to check on it later, possibly after a good breakfast. Yeah, that makes sense- perfect plan!

He jumps on the bed again, this time absolutely with the intention to wake you up, body covering yours above the covers as he presses kisses to your neck and cheek until you begin to stir awake. “Jungkook.. What the fuck..” You mumble, turning away from him to hide your face into the pillow you’re holding.

“Come on baby, let’s go have some overpriced breakfast somewhere!” He beams down at you, arms pushing and lifting from the mattress to make your body shake. “Baby~!” He whines, hands moving towards your sides-

“Jeon Jungkook, tickle me and I’ll kick your balls I swear.”

His hands move away again, fairly quickly, as he moves to sit up properly and have you turn over, just so his hands can pull you up by your wrists into a sitting position. “Come on, I’ll go get ready first while you wake up-” He smiles, pecking your lips before he gets out of bed. “-and you can try and wake up a little.” Your boyfriend laughs, before he disappears into the bathroom close by.

You’re not a morning person. In fact, you’re not a waking-up person at all. Especially considering that he kept you occupied in bed until 4 AM this morning, and it’s now not even close to 10 AM. How he can work on such little sleep is beyond you- but you’d love to sleep the entire day away, if he’d let you.

And if you wouldn’t get a raging headache from it.

But a few hours later, after both a good shower and some physical love during that shower, you’re now at a random restaurant that’s not very fancy at all- but the burgers online looked great, so you insisted on going. Jungkook isn’t sulking either, excited as he spotted other people’s food around you at other tables looking just as portrayed in the web search earlier. “Do you want to go to that museum later?” He asks, as someone puts down your food for both of you.

“I don’t know?” You shrug. “It was just a suggestion.. It looked pretty cool.” You say, and he nods.

“Listen, this trip is mainly for you baby.” He smiles, watching how you happily beam at your food. “So whatever you say is what we’ll do.” Jungkook urges, making you nod happily.

“Oh, by the way-” You say while he’s starting to eat. “-did you bring some of your equipment to the trip?” You wonder, and he frowns a bit in confusion, shaking his head. “Cause there was a small box on the bed yesterday, and I thought I’ve seen it on your table at home before, so I put it in your bag just to not have you forget it or something-” You mumble between bites of fries, and his blood runs cold.

Fuck. He completely forgot about that.

“Uh-” He coughs from trying to talk too quickly after swallowing, needing a sip of his soda to calm down again. Think Jungkook, think! “Yeah, it’s the uh, box from my smart watch.” He offers.

“Oh?” You say, drinking as well. “But you never really wear it.” You chat away, making him sweat.

“Yeah but like, I thought it was pretty expensive you know, I should probably wear it more often.” He tries to wiggle himself through his web of lies he’s creating right now, hoping that you’ll drop it.

“Huh, makes sense.” You shrug, much to his relief. “Should I remind you to wear it more often? I mean, you’re literally not wearing it right now either.” You laugh, and he nods, trying to keep it in mind that it’s safe, in his bag, everything’s fine.

“Ah, yeah!” He nods, before biting into his burger just to have an excuse not to talk about it much further. He’s got no clue how to make his next move again- the restaurant was supposed to be the perfect moment and place for it, and now that it got fucked over, he’s got to improvise.

And he’s not good at being spontaneous. Not at all.

Especially not when later, on the way back to the house he’s rented out for the week, you’re busy riding him in the driver’s seat, car parked somewhere where you both can’t be easily seen, and his brain is just empty once more as he holds your waist. You fail to make it home in time to get ready and really visit the museum, instead lounging around in the large living room area drinking wine and eating all the different snacks that Maria had stocked up on, while watching trash TV.

And only later, back in bed, does he realize that none of what you both did today was any different to your normal days off back home. Another day, another wasted opportunity.

How the hell is he supposed to make his move now, with only three days left to go?

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic

[margaretoakgrove]

Taking care of Heisenberg

If once you decide to open an old huge dictionary and find the word ''workaholic'' within this book, i bet the name of this handsome man certainly will be its definition.

It is just incredible that each day Heisenberg finds so many hours to build his metal army of mechanical undead soldiers and, unfortunately, such a small amount of time for taking care of himself.

The lord tends to put his own self-care and state of health aside, but you, on the very contrary, put them on the first place along with yours.

Actually, it will be fair enough to say, that you enjoy taking care of your loved one, and the undeniable fact that you are able to make his life easier and better turns you into one of the happiest people in the world.

Heisenberg is definitely a man of a good appetite, but in spite of that he prefers a simple food over rare exquisite dishes. Therefore if you just cook a fried meat with boiled potatoes and a simple vegetable salad, be doubtlessly sure that your pretty hands will be covered with little kisses of his endless gratitude.

Oftentimes, the old worn clothes of the lord become dirty and damaged as he usually works with motor oil and different metal scraps with rather sharp edges, but you are always ready to remove any oil stain from his trousers and sew up every hole in his shirt.

One needs to mention that your loved one's work is not only physically hard, but it's also hazardous, and, at times, sharp tools, metal scraps or even his own creation that, all of a sudden, went totally crazy can injure him. After such unpleasant situations you carefully patch his bleeding wounds up, and Karl, seeing a concerned look on your face, every time gives you a reassuring smile and tells that you shouldn't be so worried because of just another scratch. (Well yeah, just another scratch which, in the afterwards, turns into another deep scar.)

As Heisenberg strictly forbids you to wander the lowest levels of the factory completely all alone, warning that it's super dangerous, you cannot go down there and check on him when he burns the midnight oil, creating one more addition to his army.

But when the lord sits in his workshop on the highest and safest floor of the building, designing and improving scatches or writing down important notes, you always bring him a healthy snack and a mug of aromatic strong coffee even in the middle of the night which is not a problem for you at all.

When your loved one, after working hard during all day almost in nonstop regime, tirely flops down on your shared cozy bed, you don't ever mind to provide him with a wonderfully relaxing massage. The caring hands of yours slowly and gently rub his weary neck and shoulders, and Karl doesn't even try to hold slight moans of an absolute pleasure, letting you understand like this how unbelievably good you make him feel.

By the havoc which practically daily happens in his life Heisenberg, rather often, feels very stressed out, and you perfectely know that at these gloomy days of his Karl needs the comfort of your company more than usual. You caringly offer him to drink a nice cup of hot relaxing herbal infusion and take a slow walk on the fresh air somewhere in the woods, trying to speak on positive themes in the process of your little trip, at the same time listening to the calming ambient sounds of the nature.

In winter you are especially worried about the health state of your dearest man, noticing that despite a cold weather he is quite lightly dressed, and his neck is perpetually open to the strong gusts of freezing northern and western winds. Does one need to say how surprised the lord was when you timidly gifted him a simply-looking yet so soft and warm scarf knitted with your own golden hands? No, the man wasn't just pleasantly surprised, he was baffled, even shocked by this gesture because literally nobody in his entire life has ever done such a nice thing for him.

Having the new accessory wrapped around his neck (which fits him well, by the way), Karl attends special occasions by the name of family meetings where he with a smug-ass smile on his face lively brags to the siblings (especially to Lady D) about what a kind, caring and attentive person his precious darling really is, unlike someone's annoyingly buzzing bloodthirsty bugs.

Heisenberg is sure as hell that he will never be grateful enough to you for everything you do for him every single day, understanding very well that without your divine presence in his life he would never ever feel so truly loved and cared for.

But the lord does not even imagine that the short sincere ''thank you, Buttercup'' of his makes you melt like a sweet sugar cube in a hot fragrant tea.

And each new day you are willing to keep tirelessly surrounding him with your priceless love and tender care because this so close to your heart man means the world for you and, surely, even more.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village #re8 #re8 village #re village #Lord Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #House Heisenberg #Lord Heisenberg headcanons #Karl Heisenberg headcanons #Heisenberg headcanons #Lord Heisenberg x reader #Karl Heisenberg x reader #Heisenberg x reader #Lord Heisenberg x you #Karl Heisenberg x you #Heisenberg x you

[sleepiexx]

I Still Love You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.1

Note: I’m not even going to tell u the excuse for why this took so long, terribly sorry for that, more stuff is coming I love y’all 🫶

Summary: How can you expect to get the woman you’ve loved for such a long time out of your mind?

Warnings: small mention of blood, someone threatens someone w a knife

Word count: 1463

A familiar scene was spread across the prison floors, the deep crimson that Valeria knew all too well along with its pungent metallic smell and the unmoving bodies of prison guards. Carnage.

Valeria could be a philosopher with how often she thought poetic thoughts of carnage. It followed her around— or rather, she created it— how could it not take president in her mind? Be it guilt, or justification of her actions, or even past traumatic events she had witnessed, carnage was always there. But during her time behind bars, the time it seemed the most fitting to reflect, she found that something else took up her every waking thought.

This led her not to one of her many safe houses, as she had planned in the event of her capture and prompt escape, but to an apartment she’d only narrowly been able to discover through research she had her lawyer conduct. Fourth floor, number eleven. She repeated it over and over, until it may as well have been etched into the tough bone of her skull. Y/n’s place. All she wanted was y/n.

At night, in her cell, it wasn’t the stiff mattress, or the freezing cold air which was barely combatted by the all-too-thin blanket that kept her awake. No. It was the constant replay of y/n walking away from her that had her staring at the concrete ceiling. She could still feel her lips, as if they had only just parted despite the months they spent apart. You can never just forget the woman who ran through your mind rent free for years, especially not when she makes an exit like that after you see her for the first time since you left the army to start a cartel.

So she followed her gut, followed it all the way to the fourth floor, and all the way to number eleven.

The room was dark, but cozy, sleepiness seeped from every pore in y/n’s body as she sat nearly fused to the couch, yet despite that, she continued to raise the tv remote and click “play next episode” on the series she had been watching on Netflix. It was mindless, truly, she hated it. The show was lame with it’s bland plot lines mashed between mediocre sex scenes, but y/n would not dare consider the alternative. Sleeping ever since she had left Valeria in that shipping container was not an option. When she tried, all she was met with was a gut wrenching guilt which left her staring at the ceiling like her eyelids were stapled open.

She wondered what Valeria was up to. If she was getting any sleep in prison, y/n guessed not so she rationalized her own insomnia by saying she did not deserve sleep as long as Valeria could not. In the beginning, she almost hoped Valeria would break out. It was wrong, sure, but y/n couldn’t force herself to want the woman to rot in prison. Now, though, as the months dragged on, her hope seemed to dissipate and what had happened felt all too real. Valeria was stuck in a cell now, all because of her. The guilt ate away at her spirit like acid.

So, yeah, maybe she did really need sleep, but no she would not turn off the trashy Netflix series because it was the only thing keeping her mind off of it all. Until her attention was caught by a slight noise in the kitchen. Nothing loud, in fact it would have gone undetected to the untrained ear, but y/n was anything but. She left the tv on, so as not to alert any possible intruder to the fact that she knew they were there. Ever so carefully, she crept into the kitchen, grabbing a pocket knife she left on the coffee table after opening a package earlier in the day.

A figure stood in front of the window which led to the fire escape outside, closing it quietly. Y/n let it close all the way before shoving them into the wall, knife pressed against their neck. The lack of fight that the opposing party put up was a shock, that is until y/n got a good look into their deep brown eyes.

“Valeria?” Shocked, y/n pulled away. She dropped the knife on the dinner table, in favor of walking a few paces backwards away from the woman.

“Did you miss me?” She smirked, that same smirk y/n had seen time and time again.

Y/n scrunched her brows in disbelief, “Christ, what are you doing here? And why did you come through the window?”

“I thought you would be asleep, and isn’t it obvious why I’m here?” Valeria stretched out a hand.

Y/n shook her head and turned away, furious, attempting to walk away. Maybe she could just crawl back under her blanket on the couch and everything would all just go away. But that couldn’t happen with Valeria chasing after her, grabbing onto her shoulder and spinning her around.

“I told you this couldn’t happen again.” Y/n fumed.

“Yeah, well, we both know you didn’t mean that.”

Valeria pushed y/n up against the wall of her apartment, breaking the tension without hesitation by kissing her. Where the prior kiss had been tender and loving, this one was rough. Fast paced and dirty, with Valeria digging her teeth into y/n’s bottom lip. The girl let out a yelp from the pain, only giving Valeria further access to her mouth.

The kiss was reciprocated, as y/n threw all coherent thought and caution to the wind, grabbing onto Valeria’s shirt and pulling her closer.

All at once it was like she was taken back to years ago when all she knew was her love for the spitfire lieutenant who saved her like she were nothing more than a damsel in distress.

She stood in her own apartment and yet the walls seemed to morph into the one Valeria used to own. She felt younger, as though her sergeant patches and all of her ribbons had been ripped off in exchange for her old private ones. Years of separation and the passion had not changed.

They parted for air, y/n still clutching Valeria’s shirt. She stepped forward, closing the space between them as she wrapped her arms around Valeria and buried her face in her neck, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely hers.

“As much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s so good to see you.” Y/n whispered.

Valeria pushed away, only so that she could stare at y/n’s face, “what, didn’t think I’d come back?”

Y/n shook her head, scratching the nape of her neck awkwardly, “I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

“Do you want me here?”

The abrupt silence that followed was overwhelming. The answer was yes, god, yes y/n wanted her there, but how could she ever admit that?

She worked hard to get to where she was, trained tirelessly, and fought tooth and nail for her rank. It was not an easy feat, not from how she had started, and especially not from the major set back Valeria’s disappearance had caused her. But she persevered through it all, reigning victorious, claiming the rank she proudly wore against her chest every day; with no help from the woman who stood before her, mind you.

So how could she cave in that moment? How could she give it all up for someone who was not even there for support? Neither without great internal struggle.

“I shouldn’t.” Y/n muttered, beginning to pace around, “fuck, I really shouldn’t, everyone- everyone would be so mad at me but, damn it, I can’t help it.”

Valeria made her way closer and closer, until y/n was up against the wall again, unable to focus on anything but her. No more pacing, no more fighting with herself, just Valeria. Valeria pressed the palm of her hand to the side of y/n’s face, running her thumb over the girl’s lips, mesmerized, “no one else is here. Just you and me.”

“Just- just you ‘n me.” Y/n whispered, “you gonna leave me again?”

Valeria shook her head, “never meant to the first time.”

Y/n nodded and tilted her head so she could press a kiss to the heel of Valeria’s hand, content with her answer, allowing herself a moment of respite in her old flame’s grasp.

“‘M tired, and I bet you are too. Come to bed with me?”

Valeria agreed, following her into her bed and shortly thereafter into a deep sleep. It wasn’t much, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but they were right where they belonged: together.

#valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria cod #valeria garza cod #call of duty valeria #valeria x fem!reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic

[bep1erfics]

hiiii welcome back!! can i request having a big argument with ricky and ignoring him for weeks (yn has a heart of steel 😓) before he finally walks up to you and starts crying in your chest begging you to forgive him? take your time iloveyouuuuuuu 💋💋💕

shen ricky - forgiven ⛅️

‼️ slightly suggestive, semi angst, happy ending

thank you for requesting! i havent property written in a while so the quality might not be there. nevertheless, enjoy reading :)

tossing and turning in your sheets, your puffy eyes felt heavy as tears started to tremble down your flushed cheeks, absorbing in the corners of your mouth where you could taste the saltiness. to your surprise, you had argued with your boyfriend, ricky, for the first time over something so petty. being upset that he ignored your existence for the whole duration of his friend’s party you tagged along to, your frustration got the best of you during the car ride home.

in silence, you crossed your arms and looked outside the dark, secluded area via the window. ricky knew you well enough to know that when you zipped your lips, something wasn’t right.

“baby, Is everything okay? what’s wrong?” he asked, while being soft spoken. ricky never raised his voice at you because he despised the people who treated their partners badly. this made his head spin as he didn’t quite realise why you were so upset. you’ve never acted like this before.

ricky being oblivious made you even angrier. the fact that he didn’t realise what he had done to cause you to shift into this state was like a sharp sting. suddenly, you raised your voice at him as you got out of the car, opening the door to his house to grab all your belongings. you were done with him.

shirts, photos, decorations magically appeared in your hands as you aimed them at ricky. after your fit, you finally got your things and left him behind as he begged you to not turn your back against him. being too angry to finally come to your senses that you had ruined a once loving relationship, your back turned against the boy you had been head over heels with. sometimes, you wished that you weren’t so hot-headed when it came to the stupidest things. however, what ricky did today made you furious.

 you knew you were in the wrong and that he got in the midst of catching up with his friends, but it was too late to apologise. you had already made up your mind. 

starting from today, speaking to ricky was not the ordeal. to be completely honest, you wanted to avoid him at all costs because you didn’t really know how to fully express the word sorry. so when the boy knocked on your door, you ignored him. when he came inside your room with flowers, you went outside and threw the bouquet in the bin. little did you know, this broke ricky's weak heart. what did he do wrong? he asked himself.

never once did you give in to his pleads, even though your heart told you otherwise.

as weeks had passed, you thought ricky would eventually take the hint that you didn’t wanna see him, and he did. in fact, he gave you space until he couldn’t take it anymore. so on a saturday night when your parents were out of town, he came crawling back to your feet.

you were getting ready to message ricky, but all of your messages got deleted as you frustratedly shut your phone and tossed it to the side.

“if only i wasn’t so harsh on him” you murmured into your pillow. as you had your little meltdown, you jump up in surprise as you hear a faint, but loud knock on your window.

“who’s there?”

streaks of blonde started to fly in the wind as you tried to contain your laughter. ricky, who was literally floating in the air hanging onto your window, was panting like he had just ran a marathon.

reluctantly, you let him in because you felt a little bad he did this all for you. within a second of climbing through the glass, ricky leaps into your arms and your whole body freezes.

his desperate hug felt like the warmth of the sun on a cool, winter day. he brought the light back in your eyes after what had seemed like years with no contact.

“i missed you so much, angel. i know you’re sick of me but i don’t think i can sleep tonight without checking up on you. i’m sorry for waiting this lon-“

not letting him finish his apology, you cupped his face and pressed your lips against his rose tinted, delicate lips. observing his glistening eyes, your heart softened as his tears were threatening to fall. with your hand still on his cheeks, you could tell that he lost a bit of weight.

“it’s not your fault. i’m sorry for ignoring you because i was mad that you weren’t paying me attention, but i realised how selfish i acted. i missed you too, ricky”

your voice broke as you embraced ricky tightly, reassuring the poor boy that you weren’t mad anymore and that it wasn’t his fault. he caressed your head and kissed your temples, repeating sorry all over again while he trailed his pecks all over your face to make up for the time you’ve spent away from eachother.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you. don’t shut me out again, please.”

the neediness in his voice was heavier than you could imagine. leaving faint marks on your neck, you didn’t know what to expect next. like a lion targeting his prey, he picked you up with ease and gently placed you on the bed, locking your gaze as the hunger in his movements gave you butterflies to the pit of your stomach.

that morning, you woke up to the face of the one and truly person you cared about. smiling, you tuck the front strands of his hair behind his ears. closing your eyes, you drifted back to sleep with relief, knowing you were safe in the presence of your knight in shining amour.

🤍

#zb1 ricky #zerobaseone ricky #zb1 #ricky shen #shen quanrui #kpop imagines #ricky boys planet #zerobaseone imagines #ricky imagines #shen ricky #shen ricky imagines #lovelicky #fanfic #kpop fanfic

[giyuji]

SLEEPING NEXT TO THEM!

ft. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, ryunosuke akutagawa.

cw. cursing, gn!reader (i think; i tried to keep it as neutral as possible).

#𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — this man, this fucking asshole. his side of the bed is his. your side of the bed? also his. the entire mattress is his paradise and he’s the king of it all. you? during the day you’re his royalty. during the night? you may as well be another servant tending to his whims. sleepy dazai is clingy, whiny, and will start of the night with a fit if you don’t cuddle up next to him. so, because you love him (and the 20 minutes of peace in his arms before he dozes off to sleep) you give in. it’s nice, it comfortable, it feels safe; a complete 180 of the situation as soon as that 21st minute hits. dazai sprawls himself around the surface, arms wide, legs strewn about, long and lanky limbs moving around all night. if you’re particularly unlucky, he’ll kick you a few times and you’ll wake up with excruciating pain in your back. if you’re lucky, the only thing that happens is him pushing you towards the very outer edge of the bed as he takes all space for himself. you tried building a pillow wall once. dazai tore it down within 7 minutes. and god forbid you move to the couch when you’re especially tired. if he wakes up and you’re not within arms reach? OUTRAGE! you’re his love, he needs you close :( why would you ever leave him all alone in the bed? :( that’s right, it’s unacceptable. at the end of the day, his sleeping habits are just another part of him. and being allowed near him in such a vulnerable state is an honour on its own. besides, it could be worse. at least he doesn’t snore. not super loudly at least.

#𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 — such a small man, such a ridiculous amount of blanket. there’s no need for him to wrap himself in the covers entirely, leaving you with, well, nothing. that’s right, chuuya nakahara hogs the blanket. he starts off completely different, though. will insistent on tucking you in (with a scowl on his face if you’ve been particularly bratty about it that night) before he goes to brush his teeth and all that. when he comes back, you’re already dozing off to sleep. he’ll carefully lift the duvet and snuggle closer to you, holding you against him and making sure the both of you are warm and comfortable before even thinking of going to sleep. you usually wake up around 2am, cold, freezing, and seeing your darling of a boyfriend wrapped in his own little heap of blankets. if he didn’t look so ridiculously cute, with those puffy cheeks and pouty lips, you’d be mad. but, as it was, he did look utterly adorable and so your brief anger quickly washes away. with a heavy sigh you’d inch closer to him, brushing the soft, red hair away from his forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it. he’s lucky you love him so much. if he were any other person, you’d kick him off the bed and feign sleep when he gets startled awake. but how could you be mad at him? especially when he smiles in his sleep at the delicate kiss you place on his forehead? that’s right. you can’t. so you instead keep a few blankets in a drawer in your room. it started with one, but as the night progresses he takes those, too. so, now you have multiple ones. it works out, as 4 blankets seem to be the magic number that leaves you with covering for the next morning. chuuya feels super bad about it each time, though, hence why he’s so insistent on tucking you in. will get you a bouquet of flowers as an apology. you get fresh ones each day <3 your appartement is a flower shop at this point.

#𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 — sleeps like he’s dead. full on laying in a casket. arms crossed over his chest and on his back. not moving once. entire body tense, eyebrows pulled into a frown, lips downturned. always on high-alert, too. it annoys and pains you at the same time. it pains you to see him not ever being at peace, not even in his sleep. and it annoys you because, well, you love him and want to be close to him. you want to cuddle, to tangle your legs with his, to rest your head on his chest and to feel his fingers carding through your hair. some nights you want to be the one that holds him, clutching him against your chest while you kiss the top of his head. but the way he sleeps makes it so damn difficult. he isn’t even being actively annoying. in fact, if you were a coworker instead of his partner, you’d absolutely choose him to share a room with on business trips/missions. but—you weren’t a coworker. and you wanted ryunosuke closer to you. so, one night, you decide to try your luck. bad choice. you knew he was on high-alert, and the sudden appearance of rashoumon while you try and lift one of his arms to sneak underneath it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. the squeak you let out at the ability rushing towards you has him snap out of it, and it quickly disappears again as he realises who was trying to get near him. he scolds you at first, berating you for trying to test him and that you could’ve gotten seriously injured. only when he sees your down-casted eyes, and slightly wobbling lip (c’mon, you’re sleepy and needy for you boyfriend, okay? you can be emotional) his harsh words quickly die down. when you mutter an apology and whisper that you just wanted to cuddle with him, he goes even quieter. will scoff and wrap his arms around you, pushing your head on his chest and hand in your hair. just like you imagined. he manages to feign nonchalance, but even in the dark you can see the blood flowing to his cheeks. still sleeps on his back, though. at least you’re in his arms now while he does it.

#is this 100% canon? no probably not #BUT it is in my head so #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya headcanons #dazai headcanons #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader

[1-800-kami]

as the world caves in | nanami kento

warnings: fem!reader. major spoilers for shibuya arc. canon-divergent.

to think that the grade one sorcerer, nanami kento, would be fated to be killed by the very same cursed spirit that he’d just about ripped apart with itadori yuuji. the circumstances were almost comical—barely paying any attention to mahito during their previous encounter—now, he’s dying from his very own hands.

nanami could almost laugh at his situation, except…

he was with you.

the one constant in his life. the lively dandelion in this vast field of dead grass. the reason why he’d prefer not to go overtime anymore—all so he could spend his time with you.

with the both of you on the precipice of death, nanami wonders if this was a fitting end for him.

sometimes, he’d stay awake late at night and think about the dangers of both your lives as a sorcerer, knowing that a long life was practically out of the picture. he thought about safety often, but mainly yours. he’d trade his life for yours in a heartbeat—he knows that. he’d do anything to keep you safe. he declared that a long time ago.

he didn’t think about this, though—the notion of dying in each other’s arms.

like a seal of fate. walking into the afterlife, hand in hand.

“nanamin,” you whisper, voice hoarse, a few coughs of blood with the meek call of his name. “are we going to die?”

he can’t find it in him to answer that question. instead, he uses all of his strength to take your limp body in his arms, making sure to interlock both of your hands. “i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you, love.”

you squeeze his hand with a laugh, though it just comes out as a painful wheeze. “that’s bullshit. you know i don’t mind dying if it means that i die with you.”

i don’t mind dying if it means that i die with you.

nanami doesn’t seem to mind either.

“can i ask you something?” the strength in your voice is slowly running out. he knows you’re spending the last of your energy through talking to him, and he’s doing the same. nanami hums in response to your question.

“will you marry me?”

he freezes at that. because nanami realizes that at that moment—he’ll never get to do the things that he eventually wanted to do with you. the parts of adulthood that make life seem worth it: getting engaged, getting married, having kids, watching them grow up, and holding hands in the porch of your old home as you find peace in retiring as a sorcerer.

all of that bliss was forcefully ripped from his grasp. the aspects of life that make humans human—he can’t even do them with you. so, he seizes this opportunity.

“yes—of course i will, darling..” you can feel your eyes water.

“i now.. pronounce…” your words are interrupted with another fit of coughing up blood. still, you continue talking, despite how much energy this simple task takes. “the newlywed couple.. husband and wife…”

you pictured your eventual wedding with kento as a traditional style wedding. all of your friends would be invited—as well as your students. maybe you’d even make yuuji the flower boy. and you know that nanami would still choose gojo as his best man, despite his feigned annoyance towards him.

the wedding wasn’t ought to be grand. you didn’t even need an abundance of people to attend. your friends, students, and others that you held dear were enough to make you happy during your special day. you didn’t expect your wedding to happen while you were dying in your newlywed husband’s arms. though there was one thing you were sure of—you did not want to leave this earth simply as nanami’s girlfriend.

there were no wedding arbours. no rings, no congratulatory cheers from your friends. no cheeky flower toss that you were excited to do during your day. just you and your husband, slowly bleeding out on the floor, hand in hand.

with your free hand, you shakily cup his cheek and pull him in for one last kiss. your “altar” kiss, per se.

your own actions make you tear up, and you could feel the salty teardrops dripping down your cheeks. still, nanami finds the strength to wipe away your tears.

“i can’t believe i get to call you y/n nanami now.” you both laugh, noticing how kento also has tear stains on his cheek—the man is not one to cry easily.

the adrenaline pumping in your veins is slowly leaving, replaced by a soul crushing tiredness—the immense need to go to sleep.

“i’m tired, nanamin…”

it seems like the time has come.

the time to say goodbye.

“my beautiful husband.” you whisper, eyes slowly lulling itself to sleep. a squeeze of his hand, one last time.

“thank you for everything, my wife. i love you. don’t you ever forget that.” he squeezes your hand back, beginning to shut his eyes as well.

silence rings around the room as you don’t return his words. it was almost deafening.

#jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami angst #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x y/n #jjk spoilers #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

[bailey-dreamfoot]

Working on a wee comic with the octonauts grampa squad bc animation burnout is hitting HARD

I realized I dont have established designs for Natquick or Ranger Marsh, so heres them in both their work outfits, plus casual clothes ^^

Right- So, some notes ab their work fits:

you may have noticed these guys are my only octonauts designs w/ proper shoes. There is a reason for that, and no its not just bc i figured out how anthro footwear works.

Ranger marsh gets thick soled boots because working in the everglades means venomous snakes and spiders such as coral snakes and black widows- which would not be fun to step on barefoot. Even for a rabbit with thick fur on their feet. Not to mention, said fur also traps mud very easily.

As for Natquick, He gets fluffy boots because his paw-pads on his feet are very sensitive. Arctic foxes have thick fur not just on their bodies, but on their paws as well to protect them from the cold. Natquick however is much less fluffy than animals of his species tend to be. This is because during his time in the Antarctic- there were struggle periods where it became hard to find food. He became malnourished and started shedding fur. As a result he spend more time in the research station, and the rough floors weren't exactly the most pleasant to walk on.

Other than that, its basically exactly the same as their cannon fits besides minor color changes.

Now for their Casual Fits:

Natquick's is a cozy sweater, + a Tshirt Tracker gifted him. :D it reminds him of summer, which is certainly comforting in the cold. The scar on his leg? a result of frost-bite. While he was doing feild research in the Antarctic- and avalanche caught him of guard. His leg got caught under some ice. He waited there for almost a day before a group of penguins found him and helped him out. (i dont have a story for the scar on his snout yet)

As for Ranger Marsh, his is the same shorts he always wears, + a tanktop. when he was much younger, he went on a family camping trip at a national park. As their family traveled a lot, it was a pine-forest, somewhere in North America rather than the swampy everglades he was used to. the trip was what made him wanna be a park ranger. The tank-top was something he had gotten from the parks gift shop. As for the wrappings on his shoulder- The green patches of his fur are much more sensitive to the harsh sun than the brown patches are. He does his best to shield himself from the sun- by using things like his hat and working in the shade. But Sunburns still happen, and they can be pretty nasty at times.

Hope you guys like these designs! They were really fun to make!

+ it gave me an excuse to rewatch "Operation Deep Freeze" ^^

#bailey’s art #octonauts #octonauts fanart #octonauts natquik #octonauts ranger marsh

[druidshollow]

Was reading through your AU stuff again and came up with some more questions

What was Phrases and Rivers experience going over the mountains? Since in the map showed them going over the divide instead of through the chasms.

Would Phrases have some days where they wouldn't able to get water for themselves while escaping Dune?

i sketched a little comic about them sleeping in a shelter one night crossing the mountain range (actual answer below i wanted the image to be visible over the cut lol)

going over the divide was difficult for the two, not because of creatures but because of the cold! the cold can be very harmful to them just like the heat can. the real danger of the cold is becoming TOO cold and having your pipes freeze. if this isnt fixed the rest of them freezes (so long as they stay in the cold), but if theyre warmed up they can be alright, and they would have to be exposed for days before it got that bad. its still uncomfortable and inconvenient though, and a much longer trip as well. vultures and some alpine lizards would be a problem as well

as for the water thing, i think they would have prioritized finding enough water while escaping, because if they dont stay cooled they will overheat and quickly slow down. they needed to stay as fit and strong as possible. they stay low to the ground during their escape, and with the frequent rain finding water isnt TOO hard on the surface

#druid answers #oc posting #off string au #sequential #os rivers #os phrases

[the-sweet-madame]

ᴍᴇʟᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ. (𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

Im alive? haha wow hi!

Warnings: OOC (first time writing him)

Female Reader! Fluff! Happy Reading :)

Relationships.

They were simply a distraction, an annoyance and completely unnecessary. A period of time that was simply an encumbrance. That is what he had taught himself, to never be held within the invisible confinements of a loving relationship with anyone.

But why did he wish to be alongside with her? Why did he wish to console her during her unbearable days and see her smile effulgently continuously? To feel her skin against his? To let her past his tall and sturdy walls he had built?

He was a man with a remarkable intellect.

Yet, ever so often in her presence, his mind would go blank, and his usual intelligible responses stuck in his throat. He knew the meaning of the tingly blooming sensation dwelling within his chest.

The aching desire to have her for himself, it was infuriating. She was so close yet so far. Sitting in front of him, oblivious to the contrast of his stoic face and the raging war inside of him.

The frequently had silent sessions of reading together, just basking in each other's presence. She often complained about how her couches weren't as "soft" and "comfy" as his, so they would only occur at his place. So, there she sat comfortably on the light, lime green couch. Disappointedly, in front of him instead of beside him.

"Al-Haitham?" She called gently, looking at him with her novel open in hand. "You have been reading the same two pages for the past 3 minutes. And I know for a fact that you are fast at reading. What's on your mind?"

He hummed. Her voice was euphonious.

"Well?" She looked at him expectantly.

He looked back at her, holding long eye-contact.

"I like you."

She choked on her own saliva.

"Al-Haitham, you don't say that out of nowhere!" She exclaimed before falling into small fits of laughter. "But I suppose you made it quite obvious."

He paused.

"What?"

She smiled, putting down her book before taking a few steps ahead to where he was seated and took the leathered covered book out of his hands, placing it beside him. Then, she leaned in and put both her hands on both sides of the couch's armrest. She was so close. 'Pretty' was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Your cheeks always turn light pink whenever we touch," She chuckled. "You are usually a composed man, so it is a rare yet pleasant sight to see. And luckily it seems it is only for me."

"I never took you to be a bold one." He remarked in response. "A rare yet pleasant sight."

"Thief." She whispered as he gravitated towards her. Or was it her?

"For stealing your line or your heart?"

"That last one's a big assumption, pretty boy. You called me bold?" She laughed but he only smiled. Which made her freeze instantly. A genuine smile.

"Because your cheeks also go pink around me, and you wouldn't just get this close to anyone." He said, leaning in closer to prove his point. "I take it that our feelings our mutual?"

She rolled her eyes. "For such an intelligent person, you are quite dense."

He held her chin, not roughly yet not gently. "Then, may I steal a kiss from you?"

She beat him to it, pressing their lips together as he then pulled her close to his body. Wounding her arms around his neck, she sat on his lap, and he replied by wrapping his arms around her waist. Passion and unlimited love running through their veins like electricity, the feeling was addicting, as if they were intaking a drug. They couldn't stop, it was so sweet.

"Thief," She murmured against his lips, feeling him smile in response.

His heart stuttered and the familiar feeling in his chest plagued his chest yet this time, he welcomed it.

He never thought he'd find himself in love with another. If someone told him that he'd be hopelessly in love with [Name] when he met her, he would have called the thought absurd.

But here he was. Letting her through those walls around his heart to steal his heart as he did the same. He had fallen in love. Though, perhaps, it was not as bad as he thought. 

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #hoyoverse #fluff #mihoyo #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #female reader #alhaitham genshin #pretty boy #im alive

[leggerefiore]

How would the submas and larry react to a s/o who is VERY affectionate and sweet? Not necessarily pda but being showered with kisses, soft coos of love, cuddles and presents? Loves to shower them in adoration??

cw: fluff

characters: Subway Boss Ingo, Subway Boss Emmet, Gym Leader Larry

---

▲Ingo▼

● He, honestly, is quite used to being smothered in affection. Well, in a familial way. Emmet likes to lean against him or sneak a hug while at work because his twin adores contact, as it helps reassure him that Ingo is still there. You, however, don't give him quick sibling hugs and lean more into sweet kisses, adoring words, and long cuddles.

● He deeply enjoys your praises. Ingo's heart simply races after you give him a compliment after a long day of work or after a particularly challenging battle. His face grows warm as he truly feels honoured by your praise. When you coo sweet words into his ears, he simply feels beside himself in joy. Words are how he usually bears his affection, so something about your use of them really makes him happy.

● Your hugs and kisses truly do become an important part of his life. A lazy morning kiss, whole cuddled up in bed? Something he admits makes waking up and going to work all the more easy. A greeting peck to his cheek and warm hug after walking in from work? He's in heaven. Cuddling lazily on the couch and forgetting about the stress from earlier? Ingo has found peace. He hopes nothing will ever change in his life.

● Gifts are where he struggles. Don't get him wrong! He loves them. Bravo, good job! He does love the model train or the cute Litwick plush, but he just feels the urge to give you a gift back. Poor guy leans into sentimentality, so he struggles to pay you back what he feels you are owed. You will definitely have to reassure him many, many times that you don't expect anything back because the poor man feels inadequate.

● He deeply enjoys your sweet and loving demeanour and absolutely tries to give everything back to you. Even though he worries about PDA, if you came up to hug him, he would return the affection easily. Ingo wants to devote his time to you as best he can. You will often see his rare smile break out across his face for you.

▽Emmet△

○ He loves affection. His love language is almost entirely physical touch. His brother, Elesa, and any other friends or family know very well not to try to escape his hugs. So, when he discovers his partner is much the same? Emmet is over the moon and giddy about it all.

○ Your praises and adoring words make him call off into a fit of giggles. When you tell him how good he did during a battle or reassure him softly after a long day at work, Emmet feels so unbelievably happy. You may find yourself being the receiver of affection, as he likely wants to scoop you up and squeeze you to him. The younger twin lives for praises. Ingo's bravo habit started somewhere, and that somewhere was his younger brother feeling a bit insecure. This is to say, complimenting him really warms his heart (if it's genuine).

○ Oh, he simply adores how much you enjoy being physically close to him. It truly is a debate if you are trapped with him or if he's trapped with you with how much time you must spend cuddled up together. Emmet loves your kisses and hugs and anything else you offer him. The Depot Agents will gag at how simply “gross” you both are. Sweet kisses exchanged when parting, warm hugs when meeting, it's all too much for onlookers.

○ With gifts, he freezes. He enjoys them. Yes. But he feels insecure suddenly. The model train gives him endless joy, as does the Joltik beanie. Like his brother, he finds himself caught on how to repay you for such fine gifts. He needs you to reassure him that you don't expect anything back and just love to see him happy. Emmet understands but still struggles. You will suddenly be gifted anything you mentioned wanting in passing by Emmet. Be warned.

○ He deeply enjoys an affectionate partner, as he feels as if he has finally met his match. His giddiness and joy are unparalleled, and you will find yourself receiving as much as you give. Emmet is a monster for affection, however, be warned.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Stoic man struggles with an affectionate partner hanging off at him as he tries to fight existential dread, more news at ten. Larry is not used to this. At all. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, but that he doesn't know how to handle someone giving him this much attention as praise. He is painfully average, an everyman. Does he truly deserve all of this? Larry will not deny you, at least. Which leads to you clinging to him while he looks like he's drank twenty coffees and barely making it through the day.

🍙 When you praise him and cheer for him during his gym matches, he hates how much more effort he puts in. It's tiring, but knowing that you are watching and wanting the best from him encourages him so much. Larry sighs when you continue to lavish him in adoring words and praises. He thanks you for your kindness. There is no way to escape this, so he might as well keep on trying his best to impress you. He admits that being praised for his hard work does truly make him feel more motivated.

🍙 Larry is stiff as a pole when you squeeze him into hugs or litter his face with kisses. He simply has no idea how to react. Medali locals giggle to themselves at the sight. It's local knowledge that their gym leader is showered in affection by his partner, while he barely gives a reaction. Well, at least in public. In the privacy of your home, you find him returning the hugs somewhat and pecking a kiss to your cheek. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, but that he's not used to it. He does deeply enjoy it for the most part.

🍙 Gifts make him nervous. A new ball-point pen for work? How kind. A Starly themed robe. He loves it. Poor guy is taken aback by all your gifts. They are all things he enjoys and uses, but he is just continually caught off guard. He tries to get you gifts that you enjoy in return, but you tell him that it's not necessary. Larry simply feels lost. This certainly isn't what he's used to with his bosses. He thanks you genuinely and tries to make as much use from your gifts as he can. Everyone finds Larry's joy odd as he uses a random pen. It's scary, even.

🍙 Larry struggles with it all quietly but makes no move to stop you. He does care for you, so if showering him in affection is what you wish to do, he will not stop you. Just be ready for many jokes relating to how you are so sweet and loving, and he is entirely indifferent.

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #larry x reader #pokemon x reader #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #larry/reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon emmet x reader

[thesmpisonfire]

okay im here with actual headcanons this time, no misclicks fortunately

soulfire

bad is the pillow of the group because even while freezing cold he's still somehow the warmest, so he is buffered by the whole team. he's always got an arm around someone (usually pac), wings covering as many people as he can and tail wrapped around anyone farther away. pac, tubbo and tina are usually the ones situated close to him

tina and bad are usually the ones make food or drinks that aren't alchoholic. tina obviously brews a bunch of tea during the day and theres not a lot of food but they make do with the crops and resources they have. now that the greens have merged, forever helps out now too as well as fit!

since they couldn't go home before the bounty hunting nerfs, everybody still managed to flock to each other. or at least anyone who wasnt being tracked. and when it was finally time for every to rest, they all curled up in a hole and made it as warm as possible for the new wolves joining them

they have a specific corner for sleeping in and, once everyone is awake or those who aren't can be moved, tina always makes sure that the bedding is fixed. now she has bagi to help her :]

pachalo

because i can never stop thinking about it: bad's collar was handmade by pac but was originally a bit of a joke gift considering the joke about bad being soulfire's guard dog. unbeknownst to the rest of the team, bad wears it constantly underneath his bandanna, expertly hidden. pac's the only one who knows and teases bad lightly for it

before purgatory there were very few people who got to see bad's hair, much less be able to touch it. but now the list of people allowed to touch it has pac added to it

bad likes to rest his head on pac's chest to hear his heartbeat, to make sure he's alive and to pick up on nightmares. he's very careful of where he puts his horns

fitpachalo

fit sometimes, mostly when they've exhausted their energy, bridal carries bad or pac back to base to get proper rest. this happens less with bad cus he's cautious of his energy. the first time it happened though it spooked him completely awake because he was so flustered, pac laughed at him (albiet very sleepily)

considering bad and pac are the more teasing by nature, they make it just a tiiiny bit of a game to see who can fluster fit more. pac is usually the winner 9 times out of 10

when bad gets growly, fit is the only other team member aside from maybe tubbo who's allowed to come near pac. the downside of this is that bad proceeds to get growly over fit as well. -screamingallium

YEAAAA

Under read more bc it got long :]

About the soulfire one where they can't go back home and have to huddle together somewhere, there's actually a secret nook in Soulfires old farm!! Bad made some ghost dirt blocks and hid a small room with emergency chests and a fireplace in case of need. They all huddle there when they can't be safe at home <3

ALSO YEAAAA SLEEP CORNER. At first the new members from green find it weird that they're that rich but all sleep together on a bunch of mattresses and pillows, but soon they notice its because they feel safer and comfier and warmer (even if it's just an illusion) when they sleep on a pile <3

Now to pachalo.

Omg the fucking leash thingnsnfnekgsocksfm yesyes. They know this thing will only last 2 weeks and they're gonna get freaky with it‼️‼️ pac doesn't mind bad being the mad dog but he loves to tease and wait for when bad gets too blood thirsty and he goes "don't make me leash you, bad"

It usually makes bad worse :]

Hgghhhhhh okay so in brazil we have a word called cafuné, cafuné is when you caress/play/scritches someone's hair with lots of care. Pac making cafuné on Bad and listening to him purr <3

Also aaaa bad making sure pac is alive and he will stay alive the entire night... The fear something will take Pac away from him on his sleep bc nothing is sacred in Purgatory

FITPACHALO FITPACHALO

Bad being a flustered mess when Fit just YOINKS him is such an imagery. He immediately tries to squirm away like a cat but eventually gives up

Pac is the KING of making Fit flustered, but Bad and Fit tag team to make Pac a flustered mess

Those are HIS humans (or partially humans) NOW!!! GET AWAY!!!

#qsmp #fitpachalo #fitpac #team soulfire

[munsons-maiden]

A lots been said about Eddie’s level of hygiene and cleanliness but I think it’s important to point out that while in hiding, he seems to have changed out his underwear about 1-2 times. In one scene(I think in the boat when he’s trying to get away from Jason) he wears underwear with a white band, and they don’t poof out like boxers, and ofc the scene with the boxer with the blue checks. I think there’s another scene where he’s wearing a pair with a black band but not 100% sure on that. Maybe while he was hiding out at reefer ricks he found a pair that fit him and was like, shit might as well switch out while I can. So he’s clean enough to change his underwear when he can.

This. Exactly!! He definitely changed his underwear and even if he hadn't...he was literally on the run 😅

I absolutely hate posts making fun of Eddie's hygiene. I don't know where the "Eddie stinks" sentiment comes from and frankly I feel it's because he's poor and from a trailer park and there's this ugly stereotype in our society assuming poor people have bad hygiene/stink and it's absolutely appalling.

Eddie is on the run the entire week during ST4. He witnessed a girl he liked getting snapped to pieces on his ceiling, ran away from monsters he didn't even knew existed until then, was chased by the police for murder and hunted down by a jock's lynch mob because said jock had a White Male Vigilante Fantasy to fulfil. And that was day 1-3 of Eddie's horrible week. Right afterwards, he was thrown into a freezing lake (lakes stink btw, that's a fact. Every lake stinks, that's the only stinky stereotype I'll accept), witnessed the second gruesome, cruel, traumatizing supernatural murder, spent the night freezing and wet and panicking in the woods (again), before he jumped into said lake for a second time twenty-four hours later to save a guy he only recently found out was Not A Douche from a bunch of supernatural mutant monster bats.

Eddie Munson is absolutely allowed to stink. What was he supposed to do while in hiding? Take a bubble bath at Rick's, light a few scented candles for good mesaure and maybe a little moisturizing face mask because running from an assortment of people wanting to kill you for different reasons (none of which were your fault) really makes one's skin a little dry? Was he supposed to cower in that boat under the tarp and going "oh hey while I'm here I could just as well put my clothes into the washing machine so I'll smell nice when the police arrests me for a gruesome murder I didn't commit/ when the jock who always hated me beats me to death because his narcissism found a channel to feed his hero-complex/ when the supernatural undead dark wizard from another dimension snaps my bones and pops my eyes :)"?

And that one normal day of Eddie Munson's life we witnessed? He didn't look dirty, and neither Dustin nor Mike nor Chrissy fucking Cunningham Queen Of Hawkins High even flinched in his presence to indicate he was stinking. And his hair? As someone with the exact same hair structure and curls as Eddie Munson's I can assure you, those curls wouldn't look like they did if he didn't wash them regularly (and with conditioner). He might smell of weed and cigarettes and maybe a bit of cheap cologne but he doesn't small bad/stinks/have a bad hygiene. People need to stop assuming Eddie stinks because he's a metalhead/poor/messy.

Sorry for that essay, I needed to get this off my chest 😂

#kiki answers #eddie munson

[p0isonyouth]

Flurry | Spencer Reid

Summary: After bringing your childhood best friend, Spencer Reid, to a family gathering at your hometown, you car breaks down on the way back and a winter storm is brewing.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: fluff, pt. 2?

When you and Spencer took a day trip over to your parent’s house for a family dinner, you hadn’t expected being stuck with a busted tire, your childhood best friend whom you’ve had a crush on forever, and a blizzard. You expected to be back to Quantico a couple of hours ago, as both you and Spencer had work the next morning.

You were huddled in the back, wrapped up in the awful colored coat that your great aunt gave you, and boy did it provide the warmth. Peering out of the windows, you checked to see if Spencer was anywhere near the car. The boy genius, both worried about the both of you catching hypothermia and the wrath of Hotch if you arrived late to work, had decided to trek two miles to the nearest ounce of civilization that he could find to see if he could find a spare tire or repairman.

Your eyes moved to the door as it opened, seeing the intelligent man with snow in his hair. “Finally!” You exclaim, adjusting yourself to sit up straight. Spencer entered the driver’s seat, tapping on the wheel in frustration. “What took you so long? Did you get any help?”

“Y/N, I had to walk two miles.”

“So, are we gonna die in here or did you get any help?” You pressed, leaning forward in between the seats. The snow began to fall harder, and the sky was getting darker by the minute.

Spencer pursed his lips, turning to face you, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “Someone should be here in half an hour with your new tire. I can’t believe you threw out the spare, why would you do that?” He asked, giving away full disbelief in his eyes. “Did you know that 28% of vehicles don’t have spare tires, and more than half of them get into accidents without them. Yet, you threw yours out, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to fit our luggage with it inside the car, Spencer. Jesus, I’m sorry.” To be fair, the circumstances were out of your control, even with the spare tire. Your car was pretty old, so it probably would’ve broken down in the winter chill anyways, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

“It’s freezing in here, Y/N!” He said, wrapping his arms around himself. You sat there, shocked at him for easily dismissing your apology. Usually, you were good at maintaining a poker face—given that that was a part of your job—but it was hard to act as if his lack of words didn’t affect you. Because they did. Badly.

At the continued silence, you leared your throat, cueing him to look down at you from the corner of his eyes. “Thank you for going for help, Spence.” You muttered, returning back to your huddled position in the back of the car. Spencer watched you move in the mirror, cursing himself for hurting your feelings.

“You’re welcome.” He watched you shiver in your seat, biting his bottom lip as he contemplated telling you more or not about the current situation you two were in. You were his best friend, one of the only people who stook up for him during his years of being a teen genius. There was no way that he was going to blame all of this on you.

With another shiver going down your spine, you let out a small laugh, gasping as the pain of the cold hit you. “God, you were right. It is freezing in here.”

With a sigh, Spencer opened the driver side’s door, hopping into the back and pulling you into a warm cuddle. You and Spencer had never been as close as you were now, yet both of you were afraid to break the intimate moment. You snuggled into his side, attempting to wrap the coat around his torso as well.

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he snuggled his head into the nook of your neck. Your eyes darted around nervously, your mind locked in a relentless battle between reason and longing. You shouldn’t be feeling anything at a time like this, stuck in a winter storm. Still, your thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of forbidden fantasies, each one more tantalizing than the last.

“God, if JJ and Morgan saw this, they’d think they won the lottery.” You whispered, biting your lip as you felt his warm breath on your neck. “By now, I’m sure the whole team thinks that we’re—” You stopped, unsure what to say next. Reid lifts his head from your neck, turning your chin so you could face him.

“That we’re what, Y/N?” He whispered, a groan wanting to come out of your body. You could feel your face grow red, your heart racing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a complete loss for words. You couldn’t think straight, not with his eyes staring down at you.

“I’m not sure, Spencer.” You tried to shrug, but his arms weighted down your shoulders. “You know, my mom offered for us to stay the night. I should’ve said yes, but I just couldn’t stand to see her with that new husband of hers, Winston.” You sneered, rolling your eyes at the mention of your stepfather. He was an older man than your mother, yet somehow inexperienced with the world. Upon meeting you, the man tried to act as your father, but he never would be.

“That bad, huh?” Spencer chuckled, his mind still racing with what you were going to say. He had tried to talk to you the whole reunion, yet relatives pulled you two away from each other each time. He wanted to talk to you about the feelings that he had felt since you two were children, the feelings that her didn’t know you reciprocated. “Winston seemed like an interesting person.

You snorted, rolling you eyes. “Interesting, alright. The highlight of the whole this is that he told me that they’ll put in a fold-out bed in the den just for me, told me that I could be their guest from time to time. Perks of being an only child I suppose, at least for now.”

“Sometimes happiness makes people a little selfish and very dense.” The genius commented, rubbing your arms for comfort.

“I walked down that hallway as slowly as I possibly could. I knew mom would follow me because I was upset. But the last thing I heard was the sound of her laughter before she left the room.”

“It’s not always going to be like that, Y/N.” Spencer assured, running his fingers through your hair. “I promise you.”

“You’re right, Spence.” You nodded in complete agreement. “They’ll have some more children, a nice beig family like mom always wanted. And then I’ll get booted out of the picture entirely.”

“Y/N, you know that your mom isn’t like that. She’s in love, and that changes people. She’ll be back to her old self in no time.” The doctor assured, moving you so you could be more comfortable. Your head rested in the nook of his arm, your eyes closed so you could enjoy the moment.

“All I know is that it’s not worth it. I’m never getting married. Ever.”

“Ever?” Spencer asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“No. I’m not.” You replied, eyes still closed against his arm. I’m just gonna have tons and tons of cash, maybe I’ll buy an island or something.” Spencer let out a laugh as you looked up at him, feigning offense. Hitting his shoulder, you gave a small pout. “What’s so funny.”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just glad you invited me, that’s all. I couldn’t get this much of a show at the bullpen, even from Garcia and Morgan.”

“Why, thank you.” You smiled widely, grabbing his cold hand and messing with his fingers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His gaze rested on your eyes, slowly making its way down to your lips. Subconsciously, you leaned in closer, closing your eyes to await your moment of bliss. A moment you’ve been waiting for ever since you were a child.

Suddenly, a horn erupted from the distance, lights blaring into the window of the car. You and Spencer pulled apart, your heart beating fast.

What the hell just happened?

a/n: this is my first imagine! how'd you like it and do we want a part two?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencerreid #wattpad #spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #imagine #drabble #fluff #matthew gray gubler

[unhingedhiro]

loser chan agenda

lee chan x reader

word count -> 1.9k

tags -> loser!chan, fluff, maybe a smidge of angst but it’s not long!!, channie’s just an awkward boy, reader is wonwoo’s sister, wonwoo plays matchmaker, hansol cameo, changbin cameo, absolutely not proofread grammar is a myth and i can eat it

i have nothing else to say but chan’s new haircut is just so loser /pos in such a way that i feel like he needs a hug. i may or may not be losing it .

loser!chan where for the first half a year he’s classmates with her, he refuses to speak a word to her despite them already knowing each other - to him, she was wonwoo’s pretty, soft spoken sister, to her, he was her brother’s friend who didn’t quite seem to like her.

it wasn’t because chan hated her, no. that was the furthest thing from the case. he liked her. almost irrevocably so. so much that he’d gladly take hours out of his lessons just to continually steal glances back at her, watching as she pays attention to the teacher, making notes where she can. a model student, really. the polar opposite of chan, who really does try his best (subjectively so), but can’t quite maintain the grades he needs to be one of the top students. he’s not suffering either, just about managing to fit into the average.

which, granted, wasn’t bad, but it also meant one less thing for her to pay attention to him for.

now, chan could, and really should’ve at least attempted to strike up some form of conversation, yet when he tries, he finds that he just can’t. from not quite knowing what to say to her apart from asking closed questions, to stumbling over his own words when he did have something he felt would be interesting to say, by the third attempt, chan had given up.

on all three occasions, it had led to her cocking her head in confusion over what chan’s intentions had been, an action that would send chan spiraling into a fit of cuteness aggression, having completely shut down each and every time.

she’d always thought he was an interesting person, after all - chan got along well with most of his friends, often easily taking their teasing in stride. he was a boy who she’d often thought of befriending, the obvious reasons being that he was already her brother’s friend and they were classmates, but also to satisfy her own curiosity.

and it made sense.

chan was hardly ever subtle with his glances, and more often that not he’d be caught by her, staring into his eyes with a gaze that he couldn’t quite read. all he knew was that as soon as he’d been caught, his ears would burn a bright red and he’d instinctively face the board once more, face a shade redder than normal out of embarrassment. it pays that most of the incidents occur during summer, and chan can easily pass it off as just the heat. though, a number of his friends know he’s lying. it also fails at retracting any of the unintended attention she pays towards chan, her curiosity over why he kept staring her direction grows with each passing day. was her hair lopsided? a piece of food from lunch left around her mouth? the possibilities were endless.

thus, as a result, the duo don’t quite interact all that frequently, chan freezing up when she’d made the decision to ask him about homework once, replying in such a stiff, short manner she was almost convinced that the boy hated her. alas, that wasn’t quite the case, chan having been so shaken by her sudden question he hadn’t quite known what to say, and had promptly spent the next week in a slump over it, much to the joy of his friends. it was free teasing material, and chan’s reactions only made it more fun. yet, despite this, they’d noticed his upset he was, at one point putting a stop to their teasing when they notice he’s been bemoaning over the same thing for the past three days.

“y’know, chan, you could just tell her that you were just caught off guard and you didn’t mean to answer so coldly.”, changbin finally says, after chan finishes a round of ‘she hates me!’ ‘she does Not.’

“no.”

“why not?”, this time, hansol asks.

“that’s embarrassing! it’s like practically admitting i have a crush on her!”, he cries, throwing a punch at vernon.

it lands, something surprising given hansol had a learned habit of dodging the younger’s punches. chan turns to look at him after a moment, wondering why the class had gone quite, and so quickly. why so many people had their eyes on him.

it takes a moment, and then it clicks.

oh.

oh, fuck.

he quickly casts a glance around the room, praying she hadn’t come back yet - but to his dismay, there she sat, book in hand. head cocked as usual, though this time there’s an air of curiosity in her gaze.

chan truly, and utterly wishes he could just dig a grave and die on the spot. his face turns a bright shade of red and he promptly hides himself in his arms, praying to god that they’d leave him alone.

except they don’t, because unfortunately, all students have an innate love for school drama, and moreso love-related drama.

and thus, it begins.

“hey, lee chan, you like someone?”

“who’s the lucky girl?”

“is she in the class?”

“what’s she like?”

god. fucking. damnit.

all chan can do, at this point, is keep his head buried into his arms and pray to whatever deity overseeing the world that it would blow over quickly. what he doesn’t expect is for a voice that he would’ve gladly classed as an angel’s voice finally rings across the room, just as changbin opens his mouth to say something.

“knock it off, you lot. don’t harass him over it.”

though she defends him, and though the class backs off, gavin seemingly realizes they’d crossed a line, it doesn’t quite shake the little pang she has in her heart, and neither does it stop chan’s heart from beating even faster, the boy feeling as if he could die at that moment.

she’d stood up for him.

the girl of his dreams stood up for him.

the girl he could barely talk to, could barely pass a greeting to her without feeling awkward and/or freezing up, had stepped up for him.

it leaves a warm feeling in him, and he’s giddy for the rest of the day, something even wonwoo manages to pick up.

“something good happen?”

“yeah.”, he answers a little too quickly, and wonwoo cocks an eyebrow.

“did someone ask you on a date?”

“what? no, of course not, no one would date me-“

“you never know.”

and yet, wonwoo knows.

knows his little sister often gets caught, and catches herself sneaking small glances at his friend when they come over to his house to hang out, knows she pops by his room more often when chan comes over just to catch a glance at the boy, even if she disguises it almost flawlessly. knows that when she talks about chan, about wanting to be his friend, she does so with a small smile on her face, a small mention of wonwoo’s friend being ‘cute’. it makes the older boy almost sentimental, and he has half a mind to mutter, “ah, young love” as chan refutes his statement ferociously. what wonwoo does get, however, is a dramatized retelling of the incidents that had occurred in class the day before.

and wonwoo’s surprised by how much it had made sense.

now, she was never one to be particularly open about her feelings, but wonwoo just knew something was off with his little sister when she came home more tired than usual, clearly hiding something. instinctively, he’d thought she was sick, but upon a closer inspection, he’d realized that wasn’t quite the case. when asked about it, however, all she’d reply was,

“it’s nothing.”

it takes a few days of wonwoo gently pestering before she finally admits what’s on her mind.

“he likes someone.”

she doesn’t have to specify who that someone is for wonwoo to understand. and as soon as he hears chan talk about it, the pieces slide into place. and for a second, he even considers playing the matchmaker.

ah, but wonwoo wasn’t jeonghan. he’d rather much let them sort it out between themselves.

at least, that’s what he’d initially thought.

yet, a day later, jeon wonwoo finds himself at her door, sucking in a breath as he knocks.

“can i come in?”

“yea.”

thus, he lets himself in, a small smile as his sister nonchalantly welcomes him in, not even looking up from the book she’d been reading.

“still thinking about him?”

“shut up.”

he laughs at her response, inviting himself onto her bed.

“you know, if you want to know who it is you could just ask?”

“why should i. he doesn’t like me.”

wonwoo raises an eyebrow.

“how’d you reach that conclusion?”

“if he doesn’t feel that way, then why won’t he talk to me?”

oh.

chan, you dolt.

“i don’t think he hates you, he’s probably just awkward around you.”

“why?”

“ask him.”

with that, wonwoo gets up, having considered his words enough of an encouragement. whatever occurred after that, would happen.

and indeed, plenty occurs.

less than a week after wonwoo had spoken to his sister, she corners chan in the stairwell, having pulled him from the corridor where he’d been walking back to class with his friends.

needless to say, chan is perplexed.

completely and utterly confused at why she’d brought him there and a part of him wonders if he’s done something to piss her off.

“have- have i done something wrong?”, he almost wants to kick himself for stuttering, but what throws him even further off is her response.

“yeah. yeah, actually.”

fuck.

“um, i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i’m so so so sorry if i’ve hurt you or offended you in any way really if i’ve done anything i don’t mean it it’s just-“

despite her attempts to soothe him, the boy continues to barrel forward, words spilling out of his mouth faster than he can register what he’s saying.

“i just really really like you and i don’t know how to talk to you and i keep freezing up and i feel really bad because i don’t want to come off as an asshole towards you but i really don’t know what to do and i’m sorry-“, he cuts himself off to breathe, his brain finally processing his words.

as he does so, she places a hand on his shoulder.

“so, the girl you were talking about was me?”

chan nods slowly, eyes wide. god, he really should’ve just dug a hole and hidden in it forever. yet, here he stands, staring into her eyes, awaiting the rejection he’d been dreading. instead, he’s met with laughter. the kind of laughter than chan could only ever dream to hear.

“pfffft, that was it?”, she chuckles, pulling him into a hug.

“don’t worry, i like you too.”

chan stands there in her arms, stunned for a moment until he slowly wraps his arms around her. a part of him wonders if he’s suddenly died, and the place he’s in is heaven, or if he’s finally become so delusional he’s dreaming up such a scene. he’s proven wrong when he pinches himself, wincing and yelping from the pain. concerned, she glances at him.

“are you okay?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m okay. just.. finding it hard to believe i’m not dreaming right now.”

she smiles at his response.

“don’t worry. i’m as real as it comes.”

chan finds himself chuckling, holding her closer, choosing to merely relish in the feeling of finally being able to hug the girl he’d been crushing on since the day he first saw her.

#dino fluff #lee chan fluff #lee chan #loser chan brainrot go brrrr #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #seventeen fluff #he’s just so cute #what can i say #hiro brainrots #lee chan x reader