#it hits me straight in the heart and makes me feel many emotions

[screampied]

saying “goodnight,” to gojo is one of the worst things you could ever tell him.

some may ask why . . it’s a simple word, a sweet farewell of good dreams if you will. but in this case, perhaps not. just a simple word, a simple word that always knew how to bring the strongest to complete tears.

“goodnight, ‘toru.” you’d murmur, swiftly running your hands through his white tangled strands. he was struggling to keep his eyes open. the calmness of your voice soothed him. cerulean irises stared right back into you before he lets off a soft sigh. his face was so relaxed, he stares into your eyes with his own becoming a bit droopy.

“goodnight,” he’d utter before his eyes briefly closes. “i love you.”

is what you thought he’d say in a moment like this. but even sometimes, reality can be faux. life’s pretty funny, isn’t it.

gojo didn’t like the word ‘goodbye’ simply because it brought back too many hard memories.

he wasn’t one to really explain why, he was more resvered sometimes than anything. he was often too embarrassed to get things off his chest. especially things like this, you did always wonder why though. how sometimes you’d kiss him on the cheek, reaching for the light before uttering off those fatal words of, “goodnight, satoru.”

despite everything though, he always gives you a soft kiss on the lips, murmuring, “sleep well, angel,” instead of goodnight. he’d hold you in his arms, stroking you gently until you fell fast asleep into his arms, where you always belonged.

why was goodnight such an avoidance to gojo’s vocabulary. it was simple, really. a bad experience, a very bad experience actually.

“i don’t like seeing you cry like that,” he’d grumble in a merely defeated voice. he sounded so different, so tired, so … weak. gojo’s voice, it was once so full of life and oh so effervescent. and now, it sounded like he was clinging onto his last and final conclusive breaths—in which he was. “hey, hey. look at me.”

you’d sniffle, glancing at gojo. your eyes were merely blind with your own pathetic tears, everything you saw through your own lens of eyesight was straight blurry. that dumb dorky smile remained plastered on his face despite the circumstances.

the circumstances, gojo satoru had been finally defeated. the strongest, considered as once the strongest, was now lying in your arms, squeezing your wrist as if it’d be the last time he’d touch you. and it would be.

“don’t cry for me. you’re gonna make me cry, silly,” he whispers in a jesting tone, brushing a thumb against the outer part of your hand. you always loved his touch, there was nothing like it. gojo actually for once seemed scared, he was always so good at concealing his emotions—but with you, that was an entire different story.

you could hear the tremble in his voice, his time was rapidly running out, and he just wanted to reassure you, even though perhaps you should have been reassuring him.

“s-satoru,” you’d reply in a shaky voice, you felt an abrupt sharp sting prod through your heart.

you didn’t expect to come to contact with the feeling of heartbreak so soon, but it hit you like a truck. you hated feeling powerless, you couldn’t do anything but just sit here and . . hold his hand.

one … last … time.

“you’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and he lifts up your hand, struggling at first. you’re kneeled down beside him as he lies on the floor. a pool of his own defeat starting to fill from underneath him before he kisses the palm of your hand. “i… i want you to promise me something though. can you do that, angel?”

“y-yes,” you immediately reply, your grip on his hand only growing tighter. suddenly, the air felt so thick and warm—everything felt so out of place. your ears, both of them rang and rang. there was a sting in your heart and it refused to go away. you were experiencing heartbreak at its finest, in slow slow waves.

gojo inhales, and you watch as his pretty lashes flutter at least twice before he says in the most broken, defeated voice you’ve ever heard.

“promise me,” he starts, and you watched as a tear ran down the corner of his eye. even he knew what his fate was coming to, everything was catching up to him and you were sharing the exact dreading emotion. gojo’s eyes flicker up towards you before he sniffles. “promise me, promise me that you’ll be here when i wake up?”

silence—pure silence was your reply, you didn’t know what to say.

but that pure silence only lasted for about three seconds before you nodded, feeling your own tears start to trickle out the crevices of your eyes. “i promise, i’ll be here, i’m always here, ‘toru,” and with a sob nearly escaping your lips, you whimper out a, “i love you.”

“i love you,” he replies with a cheeky grin, and by now he’s really clinging onto his final breaths.

all gojo could focus on was your face, the tears that swelled up through your eyes. he hated seeing you cry, he truly loathed it. with your fingers interlocked with his, gojo says in a soft broken tone, “goodnight, baby.”

“… goodnight, ‘toru.”

but instead of waking up next to gojo like promised, you woke up alone with his side of the bed empty. then reality hit you, he was already gone.

#★vegasbaby. #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fic

[taintedtort]

hi there, i love your writing and i’d like to make a request!!

i’d love to see a chronically ill reader who tries to hide their illness from their partner (xiao, wanderer) because the near constant comments about how wEaK aNd pAtHeTiC mOrTaLs aRe has made them insecure and afraid that their partner would no longer want to be with them if they knew how weak they truly were.

bonus points if they find out about the illness because the reader pushed themselves too far and could no longer hide the symptoms in front of them :) feed me the hurt/comfort :)

prompt ✧ sick reader

characters ✧ xiao, wanderer

warnings ✧ gn!reader, mentions of illness, hurt/comfort

a/n ✧ FINALLY writing this, sorry it took a minute… and thank you for the request!! (i literally hit the limit for words in one text box so these are cut up into sections)

XIAO

✧ when he found out you were ill and that you weren’t able to be permanently cured, he felt like crying. which is big for xiao, he doesn’t feel many emotions, especially sadness, and he doesn’t know how to cope. so he did what he thought was best.

you were trying to help him in his demon hunts, something he told you over and over was a bad idea, but he let you come anyway after you insisted so many times. he couldn’t really say no to you about most things, so he just decided to be extra careful and on guard. he steered clear of spots he knew were way too dangerous and let you follow him around to watch.

eventually, you told him you felt lightheaded right before passing out. he, of course, caught you, but at that exact moment he felt his world fall apart. automatically assumed you were feeling side affects from his debt, which caused him to blame himself harshly. swore that when he knew you were alright, he’d leave so he didn’t harm you anymore.

when you woke in your bed at the inn, he was laying right beside you, waiting for you. it made you smile, the fact that he stayed with you, but it faded when you saw the look on his face. you asked him what was wrong but got no answer, he just placed a kiss to your forehead and whispered a quiet apology before he vanished. confused and still in a sleepy daze, you didn’t think much about it and assumed he was apologizing for having to leave for his duties.

a week passed and you didn’t see him, you grew achingly worried. you asked everyone around town if they’d seen him, but you only got apologies in return. you tracked him down for days, hurt and confused, and he knew that of course, he was watching you. he couldn’t be near you, but he had to know you were alright. you seemed upset at the absence of him, but xiao knew you’d be better off. he ignored the desperate calls of his name from your lips, breaking his promise that he’d always be there for you. it shattered him, and it shattered you.

after weeks of your voice calling out to him but getting no answer, you started to feel dejected. you didn’t want to face the fact that he may really be gone for good. you knew why too— he couldn’t be seen with such a weak mortal. his apology was out of pity for your poor state, not because he felt bad for leaving. with that conclusion, your heart was no more. you fell out into sobs, stomach wrenching sobs that left your head aching. with a final attempt, you choked out xiaos name and a plea followed close behind it.

you aren’t sure why he decided to show up that particular time, but he did. you saw his feet materialize from your spot on the ground and your head shot up. when he saw your face, your tears, he knew he’d caused you the most amount of pain possible. he tried to keep a straight face so you wouldn’t see how much this was hurting him, it was for your own good, but he couldn’t push you away when you leaped up from the ground and brought him into an embrace. you clutched onto him, your tears wetting his shirt as you kept repeating questions as to where he’d been and why he left. he thought he owed it to you to at least give an explanation, so he told you. he told you how he had hurt you with his debt and that he never wanted to harm you ever again, so he had to leave. he told you how much he loves you and how he couldn’t live with himself if he put you in pain. while he spoke, he realized that he’d done what he was trying to avoid doing in the first place. the pain of him leaving you was much greater than any pain you could get from his debt.

when he finished with tears in his eyes, you told him the truth. the truth about your illness and why you had passed out that day. you let him know of your fears, the fear that he thought you were too weak, that you were just as pathetic as the other mortals he always spoke of. he was already shaking his head as you were talking, trying to deny those words before they entered your mind. he knew it may have been too late, but he asked for your forgiveness anyway. you called him an idiot and kissed him, both of your cheeks still wet.

"i never meant for this to happen, please forgive me, i’m so sorry."

WANDERER

✧ when he found out you had kept such a big secret from him, he was broken. why wouldn’t you tell him you were sick? he was your partner and you loved him, so why would you keep this from him? he started to doubt if you actually felt the same feelings he felt for you. that was until he saw your face after you told him your little secret.

you two had been exploring a new patch of forest you found. he was on guard, as were you, thanks to the unfamiliar land. you both went a long way before turning back, but by that time you already started to feel dizzy. you grabbed onto his arm and muttered his name, right before seeing black. he caught you, somewhat ungracefully, but your head didn’t hit the ground. he was literally stunned, just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape. he assumed either you got too hot, there was something in the air over in this area, or you hadn’t eaten. he ruled out the second one, he wasn’t feeling anything, nor did he notice anything different about the air. chalked it up to it being your fault and carried you back to your campsite.

he monitored you while you slept, which wasn’t very long, you woke within an hour. when you opened your eyes and glanced around, you were met with a sour faced wanderer. he was scowling at you with his arms crossed, and you just smiled back. once you sat up, he started demanding answers to his questions. what did you eat today? have you drank any water? did you walk for too long? did you feel hot? you knew he was just worried, and you didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to tell him the truth, so you just nervously laughed and tried to wave him off.

he obviously continued to pester you, refusing to let you wiggle out of this one. as your loving partner it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself, so he wasn’t letting this go. you had passed out, he needed to know why.

you, very reluctantly, told him about your sickness. you tried to keep it brief and make it sound less than it was, but he heard the words 'permanently ill' and his stomach dropped. you saw the look on his face and wished you could take it back, wished you would’ve just lied to him, wished you were strong, wished he’d see you the same.

he was already marking you as his fourth betrayal, you could tell. the pain in his eyes was clear, the sheer hurt clearly visible to you. it was you that had caused that look, and if he chose to leave you, you’d spend eternity with that image burned onto your eyelids. you already felt the stinging in your nose and the familiar tears forming at that thought. the thought of having to live without him, the thought of him resenting you.

when he noticed your lips trembling, his brows drew together. why were you crying? were you embarrassed? he truly didn’t understand human emotions sometimes. and because he didn’t understand, he asked you, that was the only way he knew how to get answers. when he saw your face carry confusion, he became truly lost. he asked why you were crying, what was so confusing about that? why do you have that look on your face? he knew he liked your smile best, but he wasn’t aware of how much he hated it when you were upset. he’d do anything to get that expression of your face.

so he did what he thought would help… he hugged you. he was aware that humans craved physical contact, especially when sad, and since he wasn’t very sure what helped you, he went with a hug. he was unaware of how to fix this because you rarely got sad around him. he brought you pure happiness with just his presence, so you’d never had the chance to cry with him around.

he got a bit nervous during his approach. usually when he’s going to initiate physical affection, you meet him halfway, but you stayed still while he got closer. it wasn’t until his arms were halfway around you that you allowed yourself to hug him back. your grip was strong, and you wouldn’t let him go ever again if he let you.

when he heard your pleading whispers of him not to leave you, he reeled back completely stunned. him? leave you? he wasn’t capable of doing such a thing. and he told you that. he told you how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you, and how you’re the light of his being, his reason for living.

"i’d never leave you, i wouldn’t be able to bring myself to even think of it."

#reader insert #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #x reader #fanfic #gender netural #gn reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao headcanons #wanderer headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #hurt/comfort #request #genshin headcanons #wanderer genshin #genshin xiao #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche #wanderer #adeptus xiao #xiao fluff #xiao genshin impact #xiao x you #xiao genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #taintedtort #tortrequests

[daddyricsdoll]

First ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: Ollie deserved to be congratulated on winning in Monza, and you had the perfect idea.

Warnings: Oral (male receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Based off of this request!

I watch my sweetheart run onto the podium, a giant smile on his face. I can’t help but smile at him, a small tear leaving the corner of my eye.

All the mechanics surrounding me shout for him and I stand there in solitude, but feeling so many emotions except for loneliness. Ollie stands up tall and straight while the national anthem of the UK starts playing, his eyes fall down and make contact with mine. I send him a wobbly smile and he sends me one back, one that shines and only makes my heart pound more. 

His sweet smile doesn’t just make me feel love, but something else, a feeling in my core ignites and I know just how I will congratulate him. Some splashes of champagne fall on my face and that indicates my exit. 

I bee lined straight to Ollie's driver room and waited there for a few minutes. Sitting on the massage bed, leaning back on my arms and legs a little spread, and finally Ollie walks in.

We gaze at each other for a second before I get up and run to him. “I’m so proud of you” I say into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly. I move my head back and look him in the eyes, my vision blurred from my unshed tears. But I always manage to find his lips perfectly. 

I go straight into a fervent kiss, one of my hands sliding up to the back of his head. Ollies hands glide down my back and to my thighs, he pulls them up so he carries me, our lips still connected as he walks me back onto the massage table. 

Once I fully land on the table, very slowly I break the kiss. Our breathing in sync, deep and heavy, but we both have the same idea in mind. His eyes flicker away from mine and then fall back. 

“Do you… do you want to do this?” I ask him and watch his head nod up and down, and a little smirk dances on his lips. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start undoing it.

Ollie takes a step closer and places his hands on each side of my waist. I give him another little smile as I unzip his suit very leisurely, watching him silently beg me to go faster. 

As I shrug it off Ollie's shoulders he eagerly pulls off the top half of his suit, his hands then return to my waist and under my shirt, caressing my skin. Ollie then starts pulling my shirt up, and it leaves my body, his hands find my hips and he looks at me in awe. 

I pull him in by his fireproof and give him a loving kiss before getting off the table and pushing Ollie into the spot I once occupied. I pull the rest of his suit down and look at the bulge in his pants. 

I pull down the fabric and watch his dick spring up. “Baby, can I?” I look up at him. Ollie gives a short nod and I grab him in my fist, I spit on my hand to make it easier for me and I start jerking my hand up and down. His head tilts up and looks at the ceiling, his hands clenching the table. 

I rub my thumb over the head of his cock, spreading around the precum, my other hand busies itself with his balls, delicately massaging them, hearing the string of moans that leave my darling's mouth. 

Such sounds, I have only just heard, which make me want to reward him everyday, for just breathing and loving me. 

Ollie starts cursing under his breath and between groans, that's when I finally lower my mouth onto him. I circle his head with my tongue and start bobbing up and down. Ollie’s hand dives into my hair and he helps control my pace. 

His sweet accent emits rather salty words when his tip starts hitting the back of my throat. That’s when I feel him twitch inside of me and he shoots his load into my mouth. His heaving fills my ears while I swallow all of his cum, and when I look up at him with watery eyes, he looks down at me the same. 

Ollie’s hands grab my arms and pull me up. “My turn now” He whispers to me and his hands start unbuttoning my trousers. I finish his job while he grabs a condom and rolls it on himself.

I wait for Ollie and then I start taking my bra off, my panties slowly afterwards. I take a step closer to him and he stands up, grabs me and puts me on the massage table. 

He then places each hand on either side of my body, face inches away. “You may have more experience, but I know a thing or two” Ollie’s hands spread my thighs and I lift my legs up a bit to give him better access. As I give him a proud smile, he pushes into me and his groan compliments my whine. 

Ollie stays buried in me for a few seconds before he starts moving again. He finds a good pace with his thrusts and I start moving my hips along with him, taking away some of the effort. 

Ollie starts hitting me in the ideal place and I start praising him, telling him he’s in the right spot and calling him perfect. His pink cheeks and brown eyes ease my breathing, while his thrusts don’t keep a pattern. 

Some slow and deep, the others faster. He leans in and our noses touch, lips barely nanometers away. The feeling in my stomach becomes more prominent and I feel my climax only seconds away. “Are you close Ollie?” 

“I-fuck, yes” My lips part and I tell Ollie I want to cum with him, he nods and hums as a yes. I can feel him twitching in me and it was the last straw before I cum with a loud wail, Ollie curses out and stays balls deep in me. 

Our faces move closer and lips collide, in a soft, secure kiss. Ollie then finally pulls out and throws the condom in the bin. He leaves for the bathroom for a second and comes out with a towel. 

His hands meticulously clean me up with the towel, and he places delicate kisses on the insides of my thighs. Ollie helps me put my clothes back on, and I do the same for him. 

He then sits down on the massage table and pulls me into him, I wrap my legs around his hips and straddle his lap. My face hides itself in his neck and my arms wrap around his body. 

“Thank you for being here, and for…this” Ollie whispers in my neck.

I emit a satisfied hum. “Of course darling, I will always be here.”

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman smut #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman #f2 #my sweetheart #f1 #f1 smut

[daydreamingyuta]

Lullaby | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, drabble, listening in on your husband, jaehyun, sing a lullaby to your daughter in order to persuade her back to sleep wc: 520

You sigh as the hot water hits your shoulders, finally letting yourself relax after another long day that's been busy with chores around the house and taking care of your daughter. You headed straight to the shower after you put her to bed, this precious time being the only time to yourself today.

Usually days weren't so tiresome. With your husband helping, you two were able to perfectly balance everything, but on the days where Jaehyun had to work late, the day left you needing several shots of espresso to get through.

You took your time in the shower and enjoyed every second of it. Even your skincare, something that you used to find tedious, has become one of your favorite parts of the day because it was just nice to spend a little time on yourself.

It wasn't until you had gotten dressed in your pajamas and wrapped your hair up in a towel, that you heard the distinct sound of Jaehyun's voice. He must have come home while you were still in the shower, the running water making it so you couldn't hear the garage door opening.

You leave your bedroom and start your way downstairs to the kitchen where you assumed he was until you saw the glow of light coming from inside your daughter's room. When you had left her she was fast asleep, but she's always been a light sleeper, so the sound of Jaehyun coming home must have woken her.

You tiptoe your way to them, trying not to disrupt, while also seeing what they were doing. As soon as you make your way to her door, you stop right there and just listen. Jaehyun was singing her to sleep, a little lullaby that he's sung hundreds of times since your daughter was born.

Your husband's melodic voice always had a special effect on her and it was the easiest way to get her back to sleep. Even you, after being with Jaehyun for many years, relished hearing him sing because his pretty voice was the very thing that made you fall in love in the first place. 

The lullaby ends and you hear Jaehyun kiss her, presumably on the top of her head like he always does. You must have been feeling a bit more emotional today because you found that your heart was completely melted at this precious moment between the two people you loved the very most.

You waited as he tucked her into bed and turned off her lights, greeting him out in the hall. "She must have woken up when I came home." Jaehyun whispers, closing her door.

“Hm, you’re such a good dad, Jae.” You hum as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He kisses you back, welcoming your familiar embrace that he's been craving all day. “I’ve missed you so much today, angel. I bet you’re tired.”

You nod your head and close your eyes resting your head in the crook of his neck. “A little.”

He rakes his fingers through your hair. “Let me wash up real quick and then I can sing my other girl to sleep, hm?"

#jeahyun #nct #nct 127 #fluff #k-pop #drabble #imagine #nct scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #established relationship

[web1entropy]

[redacted] & ren headcanons (1/?)

characters: [redacted], ren, angel | reader word count: ~900 (not proofread) content warning: other than typical yandere themes, light angst, & wiretapping, the post is fairly tame a/n: i'm using the term 'headcanons' very, very liberally here. this post serves as a way for me to get a better feel for ren\ [redacted] (more so the latter than the former).

–whereas ren types in a way that exudes warmth\ friendliness by injecting as many emoticons (as socially acceptable) and tries to match your texting energy by responding in kind (sending memes back, responding with a sticker, or reacting to your messages), the opposite is said for [redacted].

–[redacted]'s texting style leans more towards being terse and straight to the point, thereby coming off as a bit... dry. moreover, they prefer to abbreviate most words to save milliseconds from *being away from you typing. you could write the most long-winded paragraph with multiple subtopics nested within and they'll respond with a simple "lol yea" or "oh?" before maybe offering a further commentary on whatever you wrote.

–they try to offset this effect by responding with a (purple) heart (if it's contextually appropriate).

–to further elaborate: it's not that they're uninterested in talking with you (as if such a concept is even possible; their leg rapidly bounce from exaltation as their eyes are glued to the screen because holy shit-- you're talking to them over anyone else, which means that your attention is on them and no one else!), it's more so that they don't have anything to share and they prefer that the focus of the conversation shouldn't shift away from whatever you wish to talk about.

–80% of the time, the conversation will conclude in [redacted] asking if they could call you instead. in general, they'll always opt for voice-to-voice communication since a little indelible past incident that had occurred on an online forum (?!) made them detest texting.

–chatting with you through video or voice calls assuages past memories of staring vacantly into nothing, one hand partially covering their face while the other picks up lint from their clothes, a frigid sensation spreads from deep crevices of their heart to the end of their limbs as they listen to the audio from their monitor of you speaking with some person (i.e. your friend). in your voice, they hear a vivid lilt that is a sharp contrast to the tone you've used with them when they attempted to approach you in real life.

–after doing it on photographs they own of you for years, it's no wonder one of their favourite act of physical contact is gently tracing your countenance: from the bottom of your chin, up to your lips, moving high to the arch of your apple cheeks— upon which their thumb lingers there for a few seconds, lightly stroking the spot below your eye —, then drawing upward from your temple to the outline of your eyebrows. finally, they consummate this gesture by placing a peck on the tip of your nose.

–[redacted]'s sense of humour is a derivative of a specific form of trolling -- being as provocative as possible while hiding behind the scrim of sincerity. it took time and practice to learn how to perfect and effectively manipulate a persona that can elicit a strong response from others. along the same vain, (affectionately) bantering with them is a bit of an issue since it's hard to get a rise out of them. it's further complicated by the fact that they know you more than you know yourself. nevertheless, it becomes easy to tease back once you find out that their weak spot is anything related to you :3c.

–it requires a decent degree of social and emotional intelligence to play a persona (whether it's acting out whoever is your current subject of affection or impersonating someone for nefarious purposes :3) and make it convincing to observers.

–Unfortunately, they don't have a meme folder on standby-- so they were taken completely off-guard when you hit them with a meme in lieu of a response. cue a distressed ren frantically searching up 'funny meme' on google images (of all places) while muttering 'not funny. gross. not funny. absolutely not. not funny. what the hell does that even mean?!'

–you're the only person [redacted] have saved to their contact list (and the only number they've memorised by heart). on nights that drag long and sleep deprivation begins to set in, hunched in front of the intense artificial light of their monitor, their gaze lingers on the 'dial' button on their screen as they can feel the dull ache in their heart stir over how easy it is to reach you; yet, they know good things never came easy to them.

–ren's freak out at the movie's jump-scare was a genuine reaction, not because he's afraid (as one might surmise), but because of how high-strung he is from that day's rollercoaster of events-- and now he's in your apartment watching a movie together like it's the most normal thing in the world?! he was deep in his reverie of domestic bliss and before it got cut short by the ear-piercing scream from the tv.

–they might or might not have attempted to make a short video game confessing their feelings to you. they'll resume their project after the events of the story and make it as an anniversary surprise.

–[redacted] being a fan of gothic music... i needn't elaborate more...(also I firmly believe from the bottom of my heart that pictures of you by the cure is one of their favourite songs.)

#14 days with you #14dwy ren #14dwy redacted #^ the world's most emotionally constipated guy attempts to write romance (failed) (ambulance on scene?!) (triple dog death barrage!!!) #edited the post to insert a 'read more' divider even thought i was pretty sure i included it initially? #apologies to anyone who had to scroll through all of that in the search

[biblio-smia]

“you can’t scare me like that, okay?” w mike schmidt <3? love ur work!

thank u!!! <333 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

when mike's call goes to voicemail, he doesn't mind. you're probably busy. maybe you didn't hear the ringing of your phone over the noise of something else.

when you don't call back, mike finds his mind start to wonder. did he do something wrong? do you not like him anymore?

when the clock hits six p.m., mike tries again. he hears the line ring for what seems like hours. this is unusual - the longest you've taken to pick up is three rings at most.

mike knows your schedule better than his. he knows you're sitting in your kitchen right now, thinking of what to put together for dinner. even if you left your phone somewhere, you would still hear the landline. so, mike tries again. one more time.

nothing.

now he worries about being overbearing. he hopes he's not annoying you, but he knows deeps down you're not the type to shy away from a conversation if you did happen to have an issue. it's unlike you.

this is unlike you.

mike is beginning to worry when it's ten p.m. and he still hasn't heard from you. he's found that he hasn't relaxed all afternoon, realized how important your presence (even if it's just the sound of your voice) is to his daily routine. mike feels a little ridiculous, depending on you so much, mind spinning between worried about coming off as clingy and simply worried about you.

he can't stand it by twelve, his heart thumping wildly and his imagination assuming the worst. he's gone through a million possible scenarios in his head, thousands of excuses. none of them fit quite right and mike is beginning to think back to a childhood memory that's haunted him for years.

he's off before he can really think about it, quiet enough not to wake abby but keeping a hasty pace. he's in his car, he's a little too much over the speed limit, he's in front of your door. mike is even more hesitant now that he's here. what if you were just avoiding him? was he making things worse?

mike decides it's worth the risk to knock. it's strong, but no other sounds in the quiet neighborhood follow. mike is about to give up after a few too many moments of silence when he finally hears footsteps.

mike perks up as the door opens and he finally sees you. mike doesn't care if you don't want anything to do with him; he hugs you immediately.

mike's sure you're confused, but you hug him back immediately. at least there's a good sign.

mike feels a little silly as he parts, looking at the clear confusion on your face.

"what's wrong?" you ask innocently, immediately erasing all of mike's worries.

"i thought..." mike shakes his head. "nothing."

"no, tell me," you insist, grabbing mike and dragging him inside. your home is dark; you obviously had gone straight to the door as soon as you'd heard it.

"i just thought... something might've happened." mike's voice shakes a little, his fears suddenly pressing on his chest. mike watches your eyes soften and he wills his emotions not to show so obviously on his face. "you can't scare me like that, okay?"

"i'm sorry," you say sincerely, taking mike's hands in yours. "i was just exhausted after work-"

mike shakes his head. "no, don't apologize for that. i was just kinda worried."

if mike is completely honest, he's a little embarrassed. he'd never thought he'd be the type to need so much reassurance. he didn't want to be clingy.

"i won't take naps like that again," you pull mike into another hug.

"oh, don't do that. just... call me whenever you wake up."

"what if i don't wake up until two in the morning?" you smile.

"then you call me at two in the morning." mike grins, kissing your cheek. "i should go."

"you can stay. it's the least i can do after neglecting you."

"okay," mike scoffs with a smile, shaking his head. "i wasn't totally helpless."

"no, you just missed me," you coo, letting mike cup your face in his hands.

he laughs before he leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"yeah, i really did."

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes #v's 800 follower celebration

[antimony-medusa]

This is verging on discourse, but I have to say, as someone aroace with the emphasis on the aro, it's a trifle disheartening to ever try to look for queerplatonic relationships that look like mine within this fandom. QPRs can cover a broad spectrum of experiences, and it always seems that within MCYT what a QPR looks like has calcified into this one depiction that is very close (but not actually crossing the line) to shipping, just without kissing or sex! With emotional connections that are very similar (but not quite) to romance, hitting many of the same beats. And that just doesn't reflect my experience at all. Personally, I have more fun reading about straight ahead romance than a qpr that hits almost all the same notes, but just doesn't quite go there, that never digs into an aro or ace experience that I recognize, and that is always what I seem to find when I go cruising the tags.

For one thing, QPRs are not just an ace thing, and they definitely don't have to be a sexless thing! You can be aroallo and in a QPR and have sex, or you can be ace and in a QPR and have sex for the sake of your partner, or just for fun! Sex is fun for a lot of ace people, including those in QPRs, and using QPR eternally to mean "sexless" cuts off a large swath of the population that DOES have sex, for whatever reason. And there are tons of ace people who are extremely fine with kissing, including people who are sex adverse, so using a QPR are a shorthand to mean "sexless and also kissless" is only depicting a very narrow slice of the experience.

And QPRs in practice often look very different from romance, including with people who are romance-adverse, and who don't want any of the trappings that normally come with romance (marriage, specific terms like "love" or "darling", metaphors or positioning like "half of my heart" or "soulmate"), and I just never get to see that. A QPR can be two people who sleep in seperate rooms co-parenting a kid! (Or more than two people!) A QPR can be people married together and sharing a bed and holding hands at the movies and calling each other "darling", or it can be people who signed legal paperwork together who call each other "bro", and those are BOTH valid QPRs. But I only ever get to see the one that looks so close to romance that it's alienating to me, while people tell me that I should be happy to be depicted. (I'm not depicted.)

And I'm also frustrated because I have read QPRs that are sharing all the same hallmarks-of-romance-but-no-sex that I would theoretically have a problem with, but they also ring as true to me because people actually talk about what the relationship is and isn't to them, and I go Yes! Not me but I am on a similar wavelength! But so many people just go "QPR" but never unpack the actual ace/aro/aroace experience, so again I'm left with something that is using all the romance and affection tropes that I've come to expect over decades of living in an amonormative society, just slapping a "but it's platonic" on it at the very end. Where's people making assumptions about your relationship that you have to consider whether to correct or not? Where's the inside jokes? Where's the intimacy negotiations and teasing each other about what you want in terms of touch+? Where's the doing life together in a non-romantic way? Where's the epic friendship? Where's the aro experience? (If we're mutuals, you probably write all of these things, and I'm not complaining about you, you're good.)

And it's hard to escape the feeling that at least some of these people are writing QPR because they're afraid of shipping, as I see the tags scroll endlessly by, not because they actually want to depict the a-spec experience.

Some of it is just people not used to writing affection outside of the romance tropes in our society, and some of it is that so many guestures of affection in our society get romance-coded when like, holding hands is not inherently romantic, I know. But sometimes, man, I want to tell people that it's okay to romantically ship, they don't have to keep it platonic, if they're going to write something that is so similar to shipping but has a giant "don't worry, these guys don't fuck" stamped on it.

I don't know, maybe there are even less people like me than I thought. Or maybe the people like me aren't writing fanfiction (lol).

I don't know. QPRs are more varied than they get depicted, and the a-spec experience is special to me and I wish it got written in its diversity. It's frustrating to see only ever one type of QPR, one that is exclusionary to me. I wish I could see the tag and not know exactly what that relationship looked like, or saw something that I felt was strongly influenced by what the characters are, instead of the same sort of sexless romance-lite every time.

#discourse #fandom meta

[babygirl-riley]

Haunted

You go through the motions after the break up with Simon

“I don’t know what I’m suppose to do, haunted by the ghost of you.”

Warnings: angst, PURE DEPRESSION, swearing, toxic relationship, break ups, small smut mention, smoking, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

Next Part

“You know if I was mistaken I would think you are about to rob this place.” You said placing your whiskey next to his.

The masked man sighed, amusement in his eyes. “What if I was?”

“Well it could be easy to stop you, since you are in your fourth drink in.”

He chuckled. “It’s take a lot than four drinks sweethear’.”

You sat there smoking the last cigarette from your pack. You were fucking pissed, you swore underneath your breath about tonight, even was pissed about thinking about that night, about Simon. Simon fucking Riley, you hated him. LOATHED him. But you fucking love him. OBSESSED with him. Both of you are so opposite yet similar at the same time.

You have been sitting on this god forsaken car for hours. Alone. Packed up with your shit. He was the one to throw his shit into your car yelling at you to leave. Over stupid dinner.

You closed your eyes shaking your head. He wasn’t the only who would over react. You remembered that you threw a glass his way when you were drunk. Both of you broke up that night, then two days later back together. You promised to stop drinking to move passed it. And you did!

Simon and you were together 5 years after that. Slowly it started to deteriorate, he would get home from deployment and straight into the room. While you sat at the table by yourself, with the cold dinner. You didn’t know what would happen on those missions. What he had done.

When you would approach him he would avoid you or fuck you senseless. That’s when you started to slowly pull away too. Going out more. Not being home when he was home as much as possible. It broke your heart to feel the tension built. Simon stopped touching you, kissing you, no attention besides a look and barely after that.

It lasted for 6 months until tonight. Tonight he waited until you got home, in your tight short dress. You did want one thing however you couldn’t your heart was for Simon Riley. So you blew every man off at the club.

“How many drinks can you get for you to take me home?” You asked boldly.

He smirked, you watched his mouth form, his stubble chin, the small scar on his lip. “Not a lot.”

You smirked licking your lips subtly but enough for him to see it. “Good.”

You didn’t know that Simon that night was packing up your things. You didn’t know that pulling away was having him pushing you away. Both of you not being able to express the feelings that you had. That it wasn’t towards you. It wasn’t towards him. Just two broken people not knowing how to express.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yelled as he threw clothes in your suit case.

He didn’t say anything as he continued. You scoffed. “Alright you want help?”

2 years later went by after the bar, he pinned you into the mattress. Rolling his hips into yours. He came back from his job after a couple of months. “I fucking missed you.” He whispered into your ear as his cock hit that spot.

You gasped holding onto him like he would disappear. He made you feel so good, your body, your thoughts, your emotions. “I-.” You let out a long moan couldn’t finish as he picked up the pace.

“You’re mine,” He mumbled, wrapping his arm from under your head as he wrapped you close. “All fucking mine. No one can make you feel this good.”

You nodded quickly as you wrapped your legs around him so he could go even deeper inside. “I love you,” He mumbled again. “Fuck-I love you.”

You went to the bathroom with a new bag grabbing everything in sight that was yours. It shocked Simon at first, that you weren’t fighting back with him. So you were already done? How long have you been feeling that way?

“Don’t forget the living room I don’t want that bloody vase anymore.” He yelled for you.

You rolled your eyes, of course deep down he hated it. “Don’t worry I will be just a distant memory or better yet a fucking ghost,” You tried to keep down the bile. “Like I have been living with the whole time.”

Simon walked into the bathroom making you snap your head at him. “Like YOU have been living with,” his voice was lower, usually it would make your body tingle but this time all you saw was fucking red. “I have been living with a ghost the whole time.”

You scoffed rolling your eyes. “Alright okay,” You pushed passed him as he followed you. “Says the one that has the fucking name, might as well act it out right? Leave me high and dry. Acting like we are fucking roommates.”

You didn’t realize that he stopped in his tracks. His thoughts going back to you stating that his name was already “Ghost.” Which is true but it was out of malice. “Well at least I am not spreadin’ my legs open every fucking Saturday night.”

That made you stop turning sharply towards him, making your way to him. You didn’t mean to, you never have done this before. You tried to stop your hand but it never did. Tears came out as you stepped back placing both of your hands on your mouth. Simon didn’t move his position for a moment.

“I would never hurt you.” You mumbled as Simon was curled into your legs. You rubbed through his scalp, neatly, and smoothly. He was at first shaking an hour ago but it has calmed. His breathing not in ragged quick breaths.

Simon hated waking you up from them, you would wake up and slowly edge him awake before he would swing up. The first time he did it he made your nose bleed. You didn’t understand that night terrors, you were right above him as he swung up. At first he thought he broke your nose since the blood didn’t stop.

Simon hated to notice that the nightmares were getting worse. Seeing his dad and the missions that went wrong. Being a failure in every aspect. He hoped that you didn’t notice those things, his behavior change.

You did notice that the nightmares were becoming more intense and frequent. It was sometimes his dad. Or people he has killed. You knew of both of those things. Simon Riley never had a fair life. “I know my sweets.”

He looked at you, he tried to hold in any emotion that he felt. Simon was shocked. Hurt. He knew he basically called you a whore but he didn’t think you would hit him. Memories flashed back to his father. He turned away from you slamming his boots on and grabbed his jacket.

“You better be out of here by the time I get back. Everythin’.” That’s when the door slammed.

You inhaled the smoke once more. Watching the rain patter on the window, you wanted to die after that. You never wanted to do that, you never wanted to hurt him. Your family didn’t live anywhere near you, let alone want to be around you, so now you sat in your car alone. You lost everyone that loved you. The one man that treated you like loyalty. You leaned back more into your seat thinking about everything that was good. That you wished that you could go back, to how it was, how happy you both were.

All the times you giggled at his dumb jokes to the yelling and screaming at each other. You gripped the cigarette as you started to sob. How did it come to this? All the fighting and distance? You used to love each other. He would never have called you a whore, used to lay men flat that did. But you also never thought you would lay a hand on him.

You looked over at the whiskey you bought two hours ago then at the pills you had for a painkiller years ago. They laid on the dashboard beckoning you. You were already drunk. Empty bottles in the back, your car stationed to no one to find you. Alone. You couldn’t live with the memories, the ghost that would haunt you. The demon that laid inside of you. You sighed throwing the cigarette out the window.

Only if you could go back to that night you met. Restart everything. Maybe in another life.

#Spotify #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley #simon ghost x you

[danikamariewrites]

Hi I love your writing. Could you maybe do a fic about Xaden and the reader is violets sister and the reader and Xaden has small moments but she sees Violet and Xaden getting close and she ignores him and maybe there is a accident where the reader gets injured like knocked out and when she wakes up Xaden is there and she tells him to leave her alone and he does then Liam tells her about how worried he was then she confronts Xaden.

You Scared Me

Xaden x reader

A/n: thank you anon!

Warnings: violence and mentions of injuries

You were trying your hardest to concentrate on sparring with Dain. But that was impossible when you could see Violet and Xaden putting on a show for everyone over his shoulder. Your emotions had been so confusing over the past few days it was a chore it focus on anything.

Violet clearly has feelings for Xaden, even if she’s in denial. But she flirted with Liam a lot and that confused the hell out of you. You were trying your best to let your jealous feelings pass. But it was hard when you had had so many small intimate moments with Xaden over the last few months.

You knew Violet had been pining after Dain since you were children, but he didn’t deserve her. Violet is your twin sister, your best friend, and confidant. And you wouldn't let her fall into the wrong hands. You had never trusted Dain and you especially don't trust him now that he has such a powerful signet.

“You're not focusing!” Dain barks at you. You snarl at him and swing your fist, connecting with the right side of his jaw. Dain stumbles back a bit but regains his balance. Anger like you've never seen flashes in his face. Before you know what's happening you’re dodging punches left and right.

He gets lucky after a while. You’re tired and still wrapped up in your thoughts. Dain trips you and clutches your throat before you can hit the ground. The edge of your vision goes fuzzy, and before you can pass out he lets go. You don't get your fists up fast enough and Dain punches you, full force, square in the nose. Hitting the mat you black out.

Hours later you wake up in the infirmary. Your head feels tight and you can feel a bandage on your nose. Blinking hard you look around the room and see Xaden slumped over, asleep in a chair next to your bed. His hand resting near yours.

You push it off and he jolts awake. Starting at you with sleep-filled eyes. “Thank gods, you're up.” he rubs at his face. “Get out.” you bite out through gritted teeth. Xaden stills, looking at you in shock. “Y/n I -”

“I don't want to hear it. You don't get to play with my heart and my sisters. So get out and leave me alone.” Laying back down you turn your back to Xaden so he won't see the tears falling from your eyes. You didn't want to let him know how much he affected you. And this was for the best.

A few days later you find yourself in one of the common areas alone. Liam walks in, he spots you and makes his way over to the couch you're lounging on. He plops down next to you and shoots you one of his charming smiles. “Hey y/n, what's got you looking so glum?”

“Just someone tall, dark, and brooding that's all.” Liam gives you a look saying go on. You sigh, “I'm sick of him pretending I mean something and then turning around and flirting with my sister.” You let your head drop on the back of the couch and Liam starts to laugh.

You glare at him, “Are you laughing at my feelings?” Liam's laughter dies down and he clears his throat. “No, I swear I'm not. Violet hasn't told you has she?” “Told me what?”

Liam chuckles, “I'm with Violet. Xaden has been talking to her basically to get her permission to be with you.” Your eyes almost pop out of your head. Xaden does like you. Holy shit. You sit up straight. “He was pissed after yesterday. He almost killed Dain. And your sister was ready to as well.”

“What?” Liam grins and nods, he's clearly taking pleasure in breaking the news to you. “Xaden was worried about you. After you kicked him out of the infirmary he came to my room. I've never seen him so upset. He said he felt like he ruined everything.”

You shoot up off the couch and race to Xaden's room without saying goodbye. Minutes later you're standing in front of Xaden’s door, knocking. He opens the door and his face instantly softens. He doesn't want to scare you off. “Y/n. Do you want to come in?” he stands to the side and you enter.

Fidgeting with your fingers you turn around to face him “I'm sorry.” You both blurt out. You smile at him and he looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. You go first, “Liam told me everything. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I had no idea you felt the same way.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “I'm sorry I never said anything.” You rub your temples as he steps closer to you. You stare up at Xaden, you want to trace the scar that cuts through his eyebrow and kiss him until you can't breathe.

“You drive me crazy you know that. And not in a good way Riorson.” He smirks down at you and drags a knuckle down your cheek. “You drive me crazy too Sorrengail. But in the good way.” “Smooth.” you both laugh.

“Can I kiss you?” Your heart skips a beat. Grasping the front of his shirt you pull him down to your height and crash your lips against his. Xaden wraps his arms around you. You break away for air. Xaden cups your face in his large hands, staring intently into your eyes.

“Xaden, if we do this I'm setting some ground rules.” “And I'll follow them blindly.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice. “Will you stay tonight? I just want to talk and hold you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He pecks your lips. Letting go of your face he leads you over to the bed. You stay all night wrapped up in his arms, asking him all the random questions that pop into your head. As sleep takes over Xaden kisses the top of your head and whispers, “Goodnight love.”

tags: @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #xaden riorson #xaden fourth wing #xaden fourth wing x reader #xaden x reader

[cosmicqvake]

I just wanna know how 7x09 goes from being this goofy, hilarious take on Groundhog Day, with moments like Daisy and Jemma casually DYING on the floor, with Deke proceeding to have a mental breakdown over it (because HELLO he just watched Daisy and his nana dramatically drop dead on the floor), while Coulson groans with annoyance about how much of a pain in the ass it is. And, of course, “phlebotinum”, and Enoch casually destroying everybody, and Coulson slowly but surely losing his mind, some cute Dousy moments too, among other absolute gems.

Then you get straight up gut-punched by conversations like Daisy and Coulson’s, about the irony of the time loop being a metaphor for his fear of the inevitable future where he will have to watch every single person he cares about die because someone “decided he should.”

Like wow. Hit me right where it hurts, why don’t you? (I could make a whole post about that conversation alone.)

Not to mention the power of Enoch’s last scene:

“Does it hurt?

It does, a bit. But it's not the physical pain that troubles me. I am acutely aware that in my thousands of years observing humans, I never used to feel lonely. I've been alone many times. To be candid, I preferred it, but it wasn't until I met this particular team of SHIELD agents that being alone meant feeling lonely. And I don't care for it. So, I am feeling, as you might expect, some anxiety now…

You don't have to. You're not alone. Daisy and I will stay with you right up until the end.

That is very kind of you. But, it's that last part, isn't it? You can stay with me up until the end, but you cannot come with me at the end. I will have to leave you and I will have to do that alone and I can't help wondering when that happens, will I feel lonely?

I can say with some authority that you're not wrong. Dying is lonely. But the feeling is temporary, at least for the person dying. The ones who are left behind… less so. I guess that's the one advantage to going first.

Yes. It's different watching your friends go before you, isn't it? I've been through that as well. It can be harder to stay than to leave. I'm sorry, Philip J. Coulson.

Enoch, the team will carry on the mission. We will survive because of you. Thank you.

You are most welcome. But Agent Johnson, while your friends will indeed survive, the team will not.

What do you mean?

I have seen the future. Carry on this mission and cherish it for it will be your last mission together.

That's not possible. Enoch, this is my family.

Of course. Yet, this is the nature of families. I have seen it countless times on countless worlds. People arrive, so we celebrate, and people leave us, so we grieve. We do what we can with the time in-between but the cycle is always there. No one escapes it. Not even me.

Which means you are not alone. You are apart of that cycle.

Like every other living thing.

Fitz... he was my best friend.

And you are a good friend to Fitz. You are a good friend to all of us.

As I have always...”

Like holy SHIT, man. I am on the FLOOR. It never fails to get me each and every damn time. I resonate on such a deep level with that entire scene, and it honestly affects me so greatly, even to this day. The emotional chokehold that it has on me is unmatched. Someone put the entire thing on my grave tbh.

I could go on about it forever, but basically, 7x09 is just my favourite episode of television ever, and I can say that wholeheartedly. Hats off to everyone who worked on that episode (and every episode let’s be real) I swear. It will forever hold such a special place in my heart.

#I can never go on about this episode enough #I am unhealthily obsessed with the entire show but especially this episode #seriously #I could go on about it til the ends of time #daisy johnson #phil coulson #enoch #deke shaw #agents of shield #marvel’s agents of shield #agents of shield season 7 #as I have always been #7x09

[lazulirus]

A lot of wine, not enough of love

•  A drunk mind speaks a sober heart - you heard of that many times, but never expected to see an example in form of Lucifer.

• Pairing: Lucifer x reader (gender neutral) • Genre:  Fluff • Word Count: 2.1k • Warnings: Metion of alcohol and being drunk • Note: soft Lucifer propaganda never dies • Reference to chatrooms: Demonus Tasting (1235) Bittersweet (Lucifer)

"Hooooon', please~ let us iiiin!" The whines of Asmodeus are never-ending and so high pitched it makes you wince. 

"It's ain't fair.” You swear, you never heard Leviathan so annoyed and whiny at the same time.

“We wanna see drunk Lucifer too!" Slurs Mammon while banging on the door. 

"Yea! And take som' photos for Devilcam!" 

"Or blackmail." chimes Satan, not drunk at all but gladly taking the opportunity. 

"Yeaaah!" Mammon agrees with another hit on the doors. 

You got used to dealing with the brothers, sometimes they were a bit overwhelming or pushy, but you always managed. After months of living with them, calming them down, cheering them up, and overall managing their emotions was a piece of cake. But now, three of them were drunk and even from inside the room, you could feel the sinister aura collecting around Satan - honestly, what Lucifer was thinking when he agreed to drink with those three? 

The culprit ignores your annoyed glare, sitting in the armchair, a glass of wine in his hand. You don't question how and when he got his hand on more alcohol, at this point, you're just amazed that he still wants to drink - without you, he barely walked straight.

"I spend so much on that fancy Demonus, I wanna reco- rec, rec…" 

"Recompensation." 

"YEA, that!" 

"Heard that?" Satan muses, and you know that tone all too well - his patience running thin. "Asmodeus will be very sad so… Let. Us. In." You never were so happy that Lucifer put the curse on his door. Despite that, you still felt the need to lean on them, as if your strength could compete with demon's. 

"You're gonna hate me anyway, so... Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Satan, go to your room and don't get close to Lucifer's till, hm…" just to play it safe, "next afternoon." You don't understand words that fly out of Satan's mouth, too drowned out by the whines of drunk demons, and can only hope the curses he tries to put on you aren't too harmful. The footsteps quickly surcease, and it was almost unpleasant to suddenly be in such silence - it was cut short by music. You glare at Lucifer, but quickly your gaze softens when you see how happy he was to listen to his records. Still…

"Turn it down, I'll get a headache from all those noises." The demon pouts but obeys, and you can't shake the feeling that your roles have been reversed. And just like Lucifer, you couldn't stay mad at the cute, pouting face of a person you love so dearly.

"They get you drunk on purpose, didn't they?" You ask as you hold Lucifer's face in your hands, his cheeks warm from the alcohol. You guessed you could allow yourself for much more when he's in such a state, when the avatar or pride visibly melts in your hands, and a stupid, soft smile spreads on his face. 

"No, I wanted to drink too." 

You wrinkle your nose on the stench of alcohol in his breath. He pouts. 

"If you don't want to talk to me, then don't." He turns his head, yet doesn't move from your hands. It was impossible to react with anything other than a smile. 

"You're so cute." He glances at you. "And very handsome with that blush." Lucifer nods softly, smiling again - you barely hide laughter. 

The sooner you get Lucifer to bed the better, he will get a hell of a headache anyway. You inform him of that and straight yourself, taking away your hands from the demon. You wonder if it would be okay to leave him be for a moment to get him some water and painkillers, or maybe you can do it after getting him to sleep… Whatever your choice would be, Lucifer made sure you were unable to do neither - it was only a blink of an eye when you appeared on Lucifer's lap, your legs hanging off the chair's arm. Your startled gaze was met with one of a very annoyed demon, yet it was hard to be scared when such cute blush adorned his face. 

"I don't want to go to bed." You look at him puzzled. "I want to spend more time with you, is that so selfish of me?" 

Now, that was a side of Lucifer you never expected to exist, let alone to see. You wondered what was going through his head - but there was nothing but pure adoration for you. How you went to his rescue when you saw his brothers' shenanigans, the softness of your hands and the plush of your body - he adored it all. He adored your voice that made such a delightful squeak when he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. Now, he wanted to be as close as possible to you, bask in the presence that awoke in him such warm feelings. 

"I love having you here with me like this…" His lips brush on your heated skin. "You always turned down my invites to drink Demonus with me, always a new excuse… Why don't you drink with me now?" Now it was time to wonder that maybe you were the one drunk, and all of that was hallucinations. There was no way that the stoic, proud Lucifer would… would… Your face could match the shade of Lucifer's - both red as the most beautiful roses. But even if you liked it, maybe even craved more, you knew it was wrong. When you comb his black hair so softly and ask for him to move, only then does he back away - evident hunger in his eyes. 

"You're drunk." He frowns, not understanding. "You really had to drink a lot, right? You're acting out of character…" You put your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it. It was so cold next to his heated skin, a calm, grounding presence. "Do you even know who you're talking to?" Maybe he was the one out of his mind, seeing a different person in your place.

Lucifer smiles in the way you saw thousands of times, corners of his mouth lifting delicately, not enough to wrinkle his skin and bearing mischievousness. 

"Of course I do." Lucifer takes your hand into his, you didn't notice when he lost the gloves. "I'm talking to our dear human." He kisses your hand. "The one that tries so hard to get my attention." His lips graze your knuckles. "The one so sweet and kind, so tempting." Each of your fingers are graced with a kiss when you only watch in silence, dumbfounded. At that moment, you couldn't tell if it was a reality or a dream, it all seemed too surreal. The humming of blood in your ears and heart filled with love suggested the latter, but… if it was a dream… you wished it never ends, because you knew Lucifer would never act like that again. 

Your laugh was awkward yet heartful, filling Lucifer's heart will with the same lovely feeling. 

"I wish I could have you like this without the alcohol."

He didn't understand, you could have him like that, you had him all of this time. Nothing Lucifer said to you was new, those weren't words meant for another nor blurred out in the spur of the moment - it all was swarming in his head every time he saw you. The evenings he spent imagining your embrace were countless, and it would be embarrassing to admit how often he thought of the brief touches you exchanged - from the accidental brushes of your fingers to fixing each other's clothes. It was those little things that made him daydream for so long he didn't notice the recording he was listening to had already ended.

You had him for so long, he couldn't get out of your clutches and yet you wanted more? Lucifer chuckles, between you two, was he really the demon? 

"Now, let's go to bed, okay?" 

"What a tempting offer."

“One more word." Lucifer spent too much time with Asmodeus to your liking, it was bad for your heart. "And I’ll make you drink Hell Coffee.”

“I’m sure it would be very bitter.”

“I’m not sure if I love or hate that smooth-talker side of yours.”

You get off Lucifer, and he instinctively follows you, not having enough of you. But now, he was content with watching as you take off his tie and unbutton his shirt just a bit - enough to see your flustered face. You mumble something about how uncomfortable it would be to sleep with a tie, but Lucifer barely listens, already thinking of how nice it will be to sleep next to you. 

It would be foolish of you to think you could escape the grasp of the needy demon. His docile demeanour was only an act, plus he gained a bit of your praise which was a nice addition, and when you got him into the bed you quickly joined him. Your yelp was music to his ears, your presence was more addicting than any alcohol, and your body was better than any pillow. It had been so long since Lucifer hugged someone to sleep. 

You sigh, but give up on fighting back, instead you pet his soft, black hair and watch in delight how he still melts with even a bit of your touch. How his body relaxes and shoulders drop, how his eyelids seem to be as heavy as lead for him. 

Lucifer does his best not to close his eyes, worried that if he does this beautiful dream will end. 

"Hey… how much did you drink?" You whisper, your warm breath hitting his throat. 

"A bottle… or two… why?" 

"So you won't remember a thing, huh." You muse inching closer. Before Lucifer can ask again he feels your lips, brushing his forehead softer than wind, followed by the words that moved him to the core stronger than any earthquake:

"I love you, Lucifer."

In the morning, he remembers. As he sits in his bed, Lucifer remembers everything - from the tips of your fingers on his face to your warm lips on his forehead. He touches the place when you graced him with a kiss, and only then does the realisation hit him - you love him.

Your "I love you" repeats in Lucifer's head over and over to the rhythm of his frantic heart, like an echo that drives him mad, yet he doesn't want it to ever go away. You care about him, and it brings out such powerful feelings he was startled. Because he, too, cared about you. He, too, wanted to pepper your face with kisses, watch you blush and fluster, and turn your eyes away. But he wanted that when you'll take him seriously and not dismiss it as alcohol talking through him. 

And he, too, wanted to take care of you when you're at your lowest, just like you did. How long has it been since another being gave him love that seems so unselfish? There was fear, that maybe it all was for something. But if you wanted something from him, you would use his drunken state instead… 

Lucifer couldn’t take the heat, it felt like not only his cheeks and ears were burning, but also his heart itself. The memory of each kiss and each touch that overflowed his mind created a fire that the demon couldn't control. The poor, tired brain was so overwhelmed that it barely registered a knock on the door and his own voice letting the guest in. 

"Lucifer… oh, are you having a fever? Do—" The oldest doesn't hear a word, just blankly looks at the cup of water and pills, painkillers probably, that moves from Beelzebub's hand to his nightstand. "—so they asked me to bring you water and painkillers." 

"They…?" 

"Hm? Yeah, they had to do something at RAD today, and they were worried we won't take care of you when they're gone or something… I'm hungry… I'll go now, Lucifer." Beelzebub quickly leaves the room, blaming the sluggish, weird state of Lucifer on the hangover and quickly moving his thoughts to food. Meanwhile, the oldest looks at the closed doors, imagining if you were the one to come to him and take care of him.  Then, all the embarrassing things he did came crashing down. How demanding, needy he was, how visibly he craved all your attention. The demon groans as he runs a hand down his face. Saying that Asmodeus added aphrodisiacs to his drink as a prank might be a good excuse…

#•String of fate #lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me oneshot #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader

[ficnation]

Chapter 1: The Comfort She Brings

Series: “She”

Word count: 2,1k+

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader; Past! Angel Reyes x Luisa Espina

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5 episode 7, mayans mc typical warnings

A/n: Gosh, this episode hit me like a fucking truck. I have so many ideas for angsty pieces. This is just the beginning of it. Also this is gonna have a few parts because I just love Angel and lil Maverick.

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

NEXT CHAPTER

When Angel comes home that night, holding crying Maverick in his arms, he doesn’t expect to see you there. He steps inside, trying not to panic because Luisa still hasn’t called, and he has that feeling in his gut that tells him something terrible has happened. He looks around, his eyes searching for his woman, but the house is oddly quiet and swallowed by darkness. 

He walks in further, turning the light on, and that’s when his eyes find you, back leaning against the kitchen counter as you cross your arms over your chest. The expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. Luisa isn’t coming back. The woman he loved with all his being, the mother of his little son—she’s gone.

You can’t look him in the eyes, focusing instead on the wailing child in his arms. Angel sees straight through you, though. He sees the broken expression on your face that you try to mask so hard, but you’re unsuccessful. You could always keep your feelings concealed away from everyone but him. That’s the difference between you and him, you are good at lying, at hiding stuff, and he sucks at it—he is an open book, far too easy to read.

The man has no idea how to react. His whole world is burning, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He feels hopeless to the point it almost turns into numbness. Fate has always kicked his ass. Angel knew it was all too good to last forever.

He lets you take Maverick out of his arms, staring as you sway him in your hold, pecking the top of his little head. He backs you against the counter, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face up so that you have no choice but to look at him. 

“Where is she,” he asks, his eyes filled with dread. “Please, just tell me where she is.”

You stay silent for a while, still trying to avoid meeting his gaze. You don’t want to say it out loud because you know if you do it—it’s gonna make it real. Angel trails one of his fingers up and down your jaw, and it makes you falter. “I’m so sorry, Angel,” you mumble out.

His heart drops at your words. He doesn’t have to hear anything else. The man stares into your eyes, a flicker of anger crossing his expression but it vanishes just as quickly as it came. He drops his head, eyes closing as he tries to stop the tears from forming. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you repeat like a mantra, and Angel knows he doesn’t have it in him to be mad at you. 

“She—” he starts in a choked voice. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that she’s gone. That she’s not coming back. “She was my whole world…”

You duck under Angel’s arms, stepping away from him. You can’t look at him. You can’t look at him and see the agonizing pain in his eyes. 

“We have a son,” he mumbles out, gazing mindlessly at Maverick’s face, swollen from crying all day. You sway him in your arms, shushing him with a gentle voice. It starts setting in. His son doesn’t have a mother anymore. He’s lost her just like Angel has lost his—taken away from him by somebody’s cruel hands.

He’s quick on his feet as he reaches you again and wraps his arms around you. He rests his cheek on Maverick’s head and listens to him breathe. The boy continues to cry into your shoulder, his tiny fists clenching your shirt. “It’s gonna be okay, sweet boy,” he whispers, kissing his head.

You breathe shakily, trying to keep your emotions in check, but it becomes harder and harder with every passing second—with every word leaving Angel’s mouth and with every weep of the little boy in your hold. The pain of losing her makes your heart clench painfully.

Angel knows how much Luisa meant to you, how much she’s done to keep you safe. She saved your life and helped you escape the people that were after you. She was your family. But now she’s gone, and you can’t do anything to bring her back—you can’t do anything to go back in time and prevent it all from happening.

“It’s my fault.” You can’t keep it in any longer, and the sobs wreck through your whole body. One of your hands reaches out to grasp the back of your friend’s shirt as you rest your forehead against his chest, letting tears spill out your eyes. Maverick cries louder.

“No.” Angel’s voice is soft but stern as he pulls back. He cradles your face in his palms, making you look at him. “I know you’re not the one to blame. It’s not your fault. It’ll never be your fault.” He kisses your forehead, his thumbs tracing over the spot as if trying to soothe you.

“I could’ve done more. I could’ve gone with her. Maybe she’d still be here then.” You close your eyes at Angel’s touch. You expect it to comfort you, but it doesn’t. Not this time. You only feel more guilty as he looks at your bawling face. You should be the one comforting him, not the opposite.

His thumb traces along your jawline as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “You know that’s not true,” he says solemnly, a somber expression spreading across his face. “She made a choice to protect you. To protect Maverick.” He pauses, taking a shaky breath. “She always made her choices based on what was best. For you and for Maverick. She’s always been like that.” You can hear the pure sadness in his voice.

“No, I know I could’ve helped her. If only I came with her—”

“Cariño, you can’t think that. Maybe you could have gone with her, but if you had, the ending for you may have been the same. This was her choice and we have to respect it.”

You can feel his heart beating rapidly as he tries to imagine how it all went down. His eyes fill with tears, he wants to be strong for you and Maverick, but he can’t bear it. He needs someone to ease the pain. 

“We need to stay strong,” you mumble out finally as if reading his thoughts. “For this little guy.” You kiss the baby’s salty cheek, stepping out of Angel’s grasp. You don’t want to mourn in front of Angel; he needs your support just as much as you need his.

Your words snap him out of his trance of despair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

You let out a deep breath, focusing on the child in your arms. “What’s happening, little boy?” You sway him in your arms, walking up to his crib and placing him inside on the freshly cleaned mattress.

“I think he’s sick.” Angel explains, following your retreating figure with his gaze. 

“Poor baby. Does he have a fever?” you ask, worried, gently pressing your palm against his forehead. It’s a little warmer than it should be, but nothing to be concerned about.

You look over your shoulder at Angel, noticing the bag of medicine that he brought inside when he came home. You walk over and look inside the plastic at the set of different boxes. You choose one of them and open it to find out what’s it for and how to dose it.

“I— I don’t know how much to give him and which one will work. I have no fucking idea,” he says, shrugging his arms hopelessly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” You take out the little measuring cup from inside the box and pour the medicine, checking if it’s the correct dosage for his age and weight. “We’ll give him some of this. It should do the trick. Soothe his belly.” 

The man steps closer and places his hand on your back, rubbing it up and down in a comforting way. “You know what you're doing?” he asks just to be sure, but all his concerns disappear when you respond with a low hum.

Angel observes as you walk back to the crib and help Maverick drink it. Your confidence makes him think you’ve done it a thousand times before. He wants to ask about it, but he doesn’t, choosing to wordlessly accept your help for now.

The infant lets you place the edge of the cup against his lips, grimacing at the unpleasant taste. He responds with a sob, trying to stand up, but you hold him back and gently lay him down on the mattress. You know he’s tired; he needs rest after spending the whole day awake with a hurting stomach. When he wakes up, he should be feeling a lot better.

After a few minutes of caressing his head, the baby closes his eyes. You continue delicately running your fingers through his soft short hair, waiting until he’s fallen asleep before you step back.

Finally, the house is quiet. All you can hear is the gentle sounds of the outside world, the birds, the wind, and the occasional cars going by.

You rinse the cup and put it back inside the box, sighing. “Are you gonna be alright?” you ask Angel, looking at him expectantly.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, meeting your eyes. “Maverick needs me. And I need him.”

He moves closer until his forehead touches yours. You can feel his racing heart and the shakiness of his breath. He reaches out, rubbing over the spot on your cheek where the tears had stained it. His thumb draws a line down your face, wiping away the salty streaks.

“Angel, you need to grieve,” you tell him as you notice his eyes wandering toward your lips. You push him away gently. “But not this way.” 

He stops in his tracks. You can see the hurt on his face. That’s the thing you’ve feared, hurting him. The last thing you want is to cause him any more pain than he already feels, but you know it’s for the better. You’d both be filled with regret come tomorrow morning. Pushing him away was the right thing to do.

“I’m sorry... I’m just—” he catches himself before finishing. He leans his back against the counter near you, sighing. For a moment, Angel doesn’t say anything, lost in thought.

 “You’re right. I need to grieve,” he finally agrees with your words. “But I’m so fucking scared.”

“I can stay here if you need me to. But I’m not going to…” you trail off, but he already knows what you mean. “I can’t. We can’t do this.”

Angel takes a deep breath. It’s as if the words you’ve just spoken make him realize just what he’s been thinking about. The thing he thinks will make it all better.

“No... you’re right,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair.” The man takes a step closer, kneeling down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He hears your breath hitch in your throat as he rubs over your knuckles gently, looking at your hands. The ones that have grasped his shirt tightly as you mourned the loss of your dearest friend—the woman he loved so much.

You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, staying there for a minute, unmoving, before you pull away. “You should get some sleep.”

“Can I hold you for a minute?” he asks softly, but his voice is begging. You’ve already said no to his advances tonight, but he knows that’s all it’ll be. Just one hug—a comforting touch of another human being.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispers.

You think about it for a moment before you nod in agreement. You have no heart to refuse him that. You pull Angel up to his feet and walk him to the bed. The bed he once shared with Luisa. The thought of it makes your heart break even more, but you don’t let it show. 

“Hop in then.”

Angel smiles at you slightly, his eyes full of sadness, but his face lightens by your compassion. He climbs into bed, wrapping his arms around you as you lay down beside him.

“Thank you.” You feel his warmth, heat radiating off his body as he holds you tight. “For being here.”

“Whatever you need, Angel. We’ll figure it out,” you reassure him and yourself, meeting his gaze. 

You feel his arms pull you closer, so close that your heads are resting next to each other on the pillow. You can hear his breath slow down as he closes his eyes, trying to find the sleep he so desperately needs.

“I know…” he murmurs against your cheek.

#angel reyes x reader #Mayans MC #mayans m.c. #mayans mc x reader #angel reyes imagines #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x female reader #the comfort she brings #mayans x reader #mayans m.c. x reader #x reader #angel reyes x you

[r0-boat]

The Hassel thirst has hit me hard outta nowhere! Could you please do Hassel with more breeding kink? Maybe s/o does get pregnant after all?

Yeeeessss I was thinking about doing more domestic father hcs aaaa

Hassel with pregnant reader

Sfw

Cw: pregnancy, gn!reader.

Hassel won't cry while he will after he faints when you tell him the news. After that he cries for about a couple days now straight. Blabbering in whimpering about a good partner and parent you'll become for his child. That's how he's so happy that he just can't help but feel so emotional. But he promises he'll be the best father that you will ever ask for.

But deep down he is worried, never really had a good relationship with his family after all. What if he becomes just like his father? Even though he is sure he does not want to become like his old man it's just... Deep anxieties do die hard. When you reassure him and give him a hug that he'll be the best father and the only father to your kid he cries in your arms once again hugging you close almost to the point he's crashing you.

By the end of the week, pretty much everyone and their mother knows about your pregnancy. Your husband being so excited he couldn't help but share everyone the beautiful news he has He said it's so much in fact it was extremely tiring a fact you did not know until they tell you in person of how much your husband could not shut up about your new baby.

Hassel instantly becomes one of those friends that become extremely obnoxious because they make that baby their entire personality for a while. Practically wearing a shirt that says, 'I'm a father now.' One of his homework assignments is to think of names for the new baby. The classmates don't think he's serious, but then when they come in here, he is with glasses and a straight face about to rate each baby name out of 1 to 10, and that's how many extra credit points they'll get.

In mind is so plagued with his dear partner he's practically drawing sketches of them. Hassel is not okay. And he's so worried and protective of you. Every craving every food you eat He's scrambling on his phone to see if that kind of food is good for you or your new baby. He wants you to eat extremely healthy as much as he would love to satisfy your cravings... Please please please dear just eat normally so I don't worry and Loss hours of sleep for your health. Which he does give in to your demands in the end. He cannot win against your puppy dog eyes, and you're begging for weird potato chips in ice cream.

Please don't give him a heart attack just stay home and don't do anything that will terrify him.

#pokemon x reader #hassel x reader #pokemon hassel #pokemon scarlet and violet

[daughterofthereaper02]

Damn You!

Pairings: Pete Maverick Mitchell x Wife! reader

Request: Hi! Can i request a maverick x reader where he and the reader have been married since the original movie but no one knows and they go on the mission together and she thinks that he’s dead when his plane crashes and then they reunite when he and rooster come back

Warnings: Mentions of near death, cursing

You walked over to your husband, placing a hand on his shoulder as he prepared to disembark on the mission.

Iceman had recalled you both to Top Gun to teach the group, your best friend having been the only one to know about your marriage and took it to his grave. He wanted you both to have the opportunity to teach this next generation together and make sure they would succeed and survive this suicide mission.

Your husband was going on the mission while you stayed back with the reserves in order to help create quick backup plans and aid where needed. That was why two superior officers were chosen to lead, although you held the rank of Vice Admiral over your husband.

“Captain Mitchell,” You said in a neutral tone, getting his attention as Rooster began to walk over. “Yes Vice Admiral L/n?” He asked, that usual cheeky smile taking over his face. “Bring them and yourself home, okay? Don’t go around making friends with signals,” you joked. It was you silently saying ‘I know there are risks, try to come home still. I love you’ all without actually saying it. After being married for 34 years, you figured out ways to silently communicate with each other. “Would I do something like that?” He joked, his little way of saying he would try and he loves you too. “In a heartbeat,” You snorted, squeezing his shoulder and walking away despite wanting to hug him and kiss him.

It was all happening so quick for them but felt like an eternity to you. You stood in the control room as the Dagger Squadron went through the mission, you selfishly kept a closer eye on Dagger 1, watching your husbands movements.

You held your breath the whole time as they fought in Coffin Corner, ‘Please Pete, come home to me...’ you thought to yourself. You felt your stomach drop though when Rooster ran out of flares, you knew what Maverick was about to do though. You would do the same thing and you hated that you knew what was about to happen, that was Gooses child, the little boy you both watched grow up into a man.

You watched his signal drop, voices of the pilots yelling through, “DAGGER ONE HAS BEEN HIT!” The voice yelled, your ears ringing though so you could barely tell. You stood there frozen in shock, you knew what happened but you weren’t actually processing what just happened. The man you loved for so long, the man that refused to die according to so many admirals, was dead.

You blinked as you heard Cyclone ordering Rooster to not go after him, you watched him going after Maverick still and you couldn’t help but feel proud. He learned so much in this short amount of time, jumping off that perch he sat so snugly on.

That proud feeling faded as his signal was gone also, you fought back tears. You already felt your heart shatter before but now it was being stomped on and burned, the two gone forever.

You stood silently, eyes on the screen like everyone else, standing ramrod straight. You were turning off your emotions and barely processed everything going on, answering questions you were asked but still never moving.

That was until Roosters signal popped up again, you stared at it for a moment, a laugh escaping you in relief as you realized what was happening. “An F-14?” Someone questioned and you said at the same time as Cyclone, “Maverick!” both in almost disbelief. “He really does refuse to die,” you whispered to Hondo. “We aren’t out of it yet, let’s get him home safe. Cyclone,” you said, turning to him, “Let’s have Lt. Seresin prepared to go, they’re going to have bogies on them,” you said. He nodded and you all waited with baited breath, your stomach doing twists the whole time,

As soon as you heard they were safe and saved by Hangman, you hugged Hondo out of excitement, everyone was doing it and Hondo accepted, feeling just as relieved that Maverick made it through.

As soon as he and Rooster had landed, you were shoving through the crowd, reaching your husband. With tears in your eyes, you shoved him, “Damn you! Damn you Mitchell, you scared the shit out of me!” you cried, pulling him into a hug. He pulled back and kissed you gently, not able to wait, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t want to leave you but-” He starts, “I know, I know. Just no more scaring me like that for at least a month, okay?” You sniffled with a laugh. “Of course,” he chuckled, pulling you close again.

You all could feel the stares on you but at the moment you really didn’t care. You had your husband safe in your arms again, everyone else could wait.

#pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick #maverick imagine #pete mitchell imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick

[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 4

Synopsis: Bada has been treating you bad but she doesn't wanna lose you so she does everything she could possibly pull off to get you back.

Warnings: angst, manipulation, gas lighting, love bombing, toxic behaviours and relationships, cursing. this is just one heavy thing so please be advised

(A/N: im still in awe that i was able to reach four damn chapters of this considering how lazy I am 🤧)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Bada came home, a bit tired and she noticed something was off. The apartment was quiet and there wasn't any sign of you. Her heart began to pound when she called your name but there was no response. She ran to your shared bedroom and all of your belongings are no longer there. She frantically looked around but you were long gone. She tried texting you, calling you but you weren't answering. Her calls would just go straight to your voicemail. At that point, Bada felt lost. She's lost since you weren't there with her. She doesn't know what to do.

"No.. No.. I can't.. I can't lose you.." Bada could only pace around the apartment, trying to get a hold of you, your friends or anyone who might be in contact with you but to no avail. So Bada did what Bada does best, play the sad girlfriend who's desperate to find you and tell people that you left after a huge misunderstanding. She was desperate and she knows you too well that you really don't like way too much attention from other people and you really dislike having people meddling with your relationship and personal life.

Bada posted on her social media about being so sad that you left her without even saying goodbye. How she came home and you were no longer there along with your things. How you didn't give her a chance to even make up for everything and you just suddenly disappeared. Of course, people believed her. Even your family and friends did. Bada really knows how to get you back and she's not gonna stop until you come running back to her.

You tried to live your life the way you used to without Bada but it seems like you really can't escape her. It's like everyone and everything you do is pointing you back to her. You felt trapped. You didn't know what to do. So after almost a week of hiding from her, you finally messaged her to meet you at the park where she took you on a date once. You tried to brace yourself but when Bada came and she hugged you, you felt your walls crumbling down. You were crying. You were in despair, you were broken, you were scared. So many emotions hitting you all at once and Bada took advantage of your vulnerability.

"Baby.. I know things didn't go well between us but please.. Please give me this one last chance to make things better. You still love me, right? You still want to be with me, right? Want me to make things better for us? Want me to make this all stop?" Bada coos and stroked your hair while you sobbed in her arms. You wanted to say no, you wanted to get away from her, you wanted to tell her to go fuck herself because you're through but it seems like you couldn't find it in yourself to do it. You just nodded and Bada couldn't help but smile. She knew how to get you back, she knows you too well and she's gonna make sure that you won't be leaving her again any time soon.

That night, you came back home again. You were too tired to refuse, too tired to argue, too tired with everything. Bada began to treat you real well again. Spoiling you, making sure to make you feel special again and making sure that you're seen with her everywhere she goes. You should be happy but it made you feel so much worse. When will this go back to being bad? When will she stop caring again? When will she stop 'loving' you again?

Bada would cook you meals, take you out on dates and buying you things. She's also bringing you to all of her works just so she could keep an eye on you. You hated it but what else can you really do at this point? You just pretended that nothing's wrong, that everything's perfect between you and Bada. Maybe if you pretend enough, you can fool yourself as well into believing that everything's fine. That Bada truly loves you and that your relationship will be fixed. Though what she's showing you now scares you. When will it end? When will she stop showing that she cares? When will she make you feel that you're an idiot believing that she actually loves you? Those thoughts kept plaguing your mind and won't let you sleep at night.

"I'm glad you and Bada are back together now.. You guys look so perfect!" one of Bada's friends said as you sat at the back, watching Bada teach her class and you wanted to snap, you wanted to scream, you wanted everyone to realize that no, you're not glad that you got back together. You wanted to run away, you wanted to escape this nightmare that you're going through. But you can't. Because Bada has painted herself as the good person. The amazing partner who is madly in love with you, who's willing to take you back even if you left her, the person who's willing to give you the whole world just to have you back. And then you'll be this ungrateful bitch who took such amazing person for granted and everyone will hate you.

"Yeah.. I'm glad as well.." you said, looking away as you felt yourself tearing up from your own words. You felt crushed by your own lie that you oh so desperately wanted to believe.

It went on like that for months. You being the never needy, ever lovely jewel that shine reflects on Bada. You're like the perfect girlfriend for Bada that's always there supporting her and being loved by Bada but only if they knew what happens inside the apartment you shared with her. There were times she's sweet and there are times that she made you feel like you're the most useless human being in the world and that you're only there because of Bada.

"Y/N go make me something to eat. I'm starving." Bada ordered as you were cleaning around the living room. You hated it when she's not working. She's just horrible towards you and you're sick of it.

"Why don't you make your own damn food? I'm not your fucking slave and I'm tired of you treating me like crap whenever no one's around!" you yelled and slammed the mop on the ground and Bada chuckled coldly, standing up and stood in front of you. You were supposed to cower before when she did that but not today. All the anger and emotions that you've bottled for months is finally about to burst.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you still here? You could've left me, Y/N. You could've went back to the states the first time you left but you didn't because deep down, you still need me. You can't live without me. Let's face it, you're bound to be just a pretty little thing to keep me company until I finally get tired of you and discard you. But even after that, you'll still chase me around because you're just like that, Y/N. And will always be like that." Bada's words felt like being stabbed, shot, zapped and ran over all at once. Even if you deny it, her words still held some truth to it.

"Yeah, I still love you, Bada! Still so damn in love with you even if you hurt me, even if you keep breaking me like those damned promises you told me. But I'm done. I'm so done with you, so done with this relationship, so done with all your bullshits!" tears were streaming down your face but there's this burning determination inside you that Bada can't put out even with those words. You're determined to leave, you're determined to put yourself first. You want to help yourself out and away from this relationship to which you did exactly.

You pushed past her and went to grab and pack all the belongings that are important and you can carry. You pushed past her when she tried to stop you from leaving. You are so done and you didn't want to be her pretty little toy anymore. It all ends today. It all ends now. You didn't care if you were wearing your pajamas to the airport. You didn't care if you had to spend a lot of money just to get a ticket to go back to the states. You didn't care about the cameras being pointed your way, taking pictures and videos of you looking so disheveled for them to post and share on social media. All you cared about is you, and the feeling of being free from Bada's clutches.

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@lil-elliesgf @efyyylee @hwm1hyun @mikaleialt @bunnywonyo @badaswifey @mrs-grim-reaper @b1ackbunny @wifey-badalee

#bada x reader #bada lee #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee x reader #lee bada #bada lee imagine #bada fanfic #bada imagine

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Kensei Smut*~

Honestly. Kensei fought me at every opportunity, he picked and prodded at everything I wrote, yet wouldn’t help nor let me move on to another fic. I’ll not be writing for him again until he learns to cooperate 😂. As a result for not speaking up, I’ve given him another use for that mouth. Neither me nor Kensei are happy with this, but I’m going to post it anyway. That’ll show him.

*my masterlist is pinned at the top of my page if you’d like to read anymore of my work 💜*

You could feel your partners explosive spiritual pressure from where you stood alone in your shared kitchen. Quite an impressive feat, since you lived a good eight blocks away from the office in the ninth division. Kensei was a fantastic partner, sweet and attentive, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you. His quiet strength was always there to hold you up when you needed him, silent pilar of strength in your relationship.

However, he wasn't void of any flaws. He was incredibly temperamental, quick to anger and with very little patience. Kensei wasn't easy going, by any stretch of the imagination. He lived by a strong sense of discipline and morals and reacting hostility toward those not falling in line.

It had taken you months to see past the curt and gruff exterior the Captain exuded to discover the attentive and intensely tender man that lay beneath. Not something that many were privy too. He was loyal and fiercely protective, especially over you. He showed you how much you ment to him every single day, in his own gruff way.

You could feel the annoyance pulsating in the angry flare up from where you were. Kensei had been trying to curb his explosiveness in work, after one too many complaints had been overheard. It wasn't that he wanted to upset anyone, least of all the female shinigami in his division. He was just a man who struggled to contain his emotions and express them calmly.

You sighed softly, he had been trying so hard. Knowing he would return home soon, and would turn to you for comfort, you hurried to your bathroom for a hot shower.

———————————————————

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, Kensei's favourite deep purple silk gown wrapped around your curves, you hear the door to your home snap shut a little harder than necessary. Bare foot you walked to the entrance of your home, watching as the man who held your heart kicked off his sandals roughly, letting them hit the wall before landing haphazardly on the floor. Waiting for him to remove his captains coat and zanpakuto, you got the chance to study his handsome face.

His strong jaw was tense, harshly defining his jawline. Lips were pulled thin, likely chomping down hard on his back teeth. Nostrils flared with every rough breath, eye brows furrowed deeply. Clearly the walk home hadn't dampened the annoyance that caused the angry reaction you had felt earlier.

His light brown eyes caught your own as he left the entrance hall to walk into your home, making his way straight to you.

Without breaking his stride, large hands engulfed your waist, throwing you over his shoulder effortlessly. You yelped at the sudden change of verticality, gripping onto the back of his kosode frantically. Not once had he ever let you fall, but the natural reaction was strong. He wrapped an arm around the back of your thighs, pinning you securely as he made his way through to your bedroom.

You flounced with every determined step, the heat radiating from his frame seeped through the flimsy material covering your modesty. Equilibrium was thrown through a loop when he deposited you heavily onto the bed, bouncing lightly on the plush matress at the force.

Protruding muscles proudly shown off in his sleeveless uniform bunched together delightfully as he crawled up the bed. You held your arms open for him, allowing him to cover your body with his own. Caged between the solid wall of muscle and bed, you stared at the ceiling as he nuzzled into your neck and sighed deeply

"bad day?" You ask him softly, bring up your hands to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He grunted near your ear in affirmation, so not to accidentally snap at you. His hair was deceivingly soft, the Mohawk he sported these days grew naturally, and wasn't styled by hair products as one would assume. By the slight coconut smell protruding through the air, you could tell that he had stolen your shampoo.. again.

"you wanna talk about it?" The offer hung in the air for a moment before you felt his head shake no. This was a usual response you had come to accept, pushing the matter would only amplify the festering annoyance. You pull at his hair gently, encouraging him to straighten up to face you. Unable to part from you completely, he rested his forehead against your own, tips of your noses brushed together sweetly. Untangling your fingers from his hair, you smoothed it down the side of his face, softly cupping his tense jaw in your palm.

"how can I help?"

The answer came in the form of a bruising kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips melding against your own, stealing away your breath. Willingly, you open your mouth at the insistent tongue running across your lips, surrendering yourself to Kensei completely. Angrily the moist appendage invaded your mouth, claiming the space as his own.

Harsh breaths forcefully pushed out through his nose, fanning over your face and warming the skin on your cheeks to a subtle pink hue . Your tongue danced across the one leading yours in a rhythmic pattern, fitting in perfectly to the to and fro that made you dizzy. The kiss was controlled and disciplined, traits Kensei valued and demanded of his subordinates, though you couldn't ignore the passion and raw admiration you could feel being pushed through.

This is what Kensei had come to discover he needed when he couldn't express his distain towards the childish insubordination he endured on a daily basis with his lieutenant, who embodied everything he meticulously beat away with his rigorous training. He needed you to be compliant, adhering to his commands freely and without questioning his authority.

Something you were all too willing to give him. Kensei truly treasured you, made you feel unconditionally loved each and every day. You could give him this in return. Sacrificing your free will was a small price to pay, for what you got in return. Kensei was as skilled as a lover as he was a leader. Passionately bringing you into the throws of pleasure, knowing your body better than you yourself did.

With a final press of his lips, Kensei pushed himself to his elbows, looking down into your flushed face. You read the question behind his hardened eyes as easily as if he had spoken the words out loud. He wouldn't use your body unless you gave him permission to do so. The affirmative nod was all that was needed, he dropped a fleeting kiss to your lips before sitting back between your legs, pushing them wider to accommodate his wide stature.

Battle worn hands trailed over the silky sheen of your robe, soft strands catching on the hardened callouses formed from decades of wielding a zanpakuto. Thick fingers made easy work of untying the sash holding the robe closed, denying him view from your body. You watched as Kensei pushed the garment open, the material fanning around you on the bed.

His eyes burned where they landed, intently washing over each and every curve, memorising every blemish and scar that added complexity to your otherwise perfect skin. Ample breasts perked at his heat gaze, rosy nipples hardened under the weight of that intense stare. His hands roamed over your body, gliding over your skin appreciatively. The sharp breath you pulled when his fingers grazed over your nipples was deafening in the otherwise silent room.

Kensei dipped his head, kissing your soft stomach fondly. You were strong in your own right, though that didn't reflect in your body as it did his. Kensei's body was thick with muscles, defines pecs and rippling abs. Where's yours was soft, plush with a little weight that just wouldn't shift. Kensei adored the roundness of your curves and didn't hesitate to worship all the little details you had stared too long at in the mirror, self consciously picking apart.

He kissed his way along the lower part of your stomach, nuzzling into the flesh you hated most. Your hand darted out from habit, ready to halt his explorations when his caught your wrist, keeping it at bay. Lips pressed against your skin, Kensei looked at you darkly, eyes held in an unspoken warning.

Gently depositing your hand on the bed next to you, squeezing your wrist in a silent reminder, Kensei continued his path to your hip, sucking gently where your hipbone protruded ever so slightly. Heat rushed to the area, blood pulling to the surface in a purpling bruise that was soothingly kissed. Following down the crease of your thigh, Kensei laid himself down on his stomach.

He brushed a hand under your thigh, smoothing it up your leg to your knee and raising it from the bed. Foot planted, holding your leg up as he wanted, Kensei moved to do the same on the other side. Your sex was on full display for him, legs opened wide to allow him unobstructed access. You covered your eyes, arm thrown over them mortified at the deep inhale he gave, nose pressed into your mound.

You groaned at the first slow lick he gave at your centre, his wide flat tongue dragging against the sensitive skin of your lips. Meticulously he tasted you, long, hard swipes of his tongue opened you up slowly. Your hips rolled wantonly, urging him to quicken his pace. His hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you in place as he continued to lick through your folds.

Reaching your centre, Kensei slowly thrusted his tongue into your velvety heat, nuzzling his face into your wetness. Strong laps caressed your inner walls, sending a jolt of arousal through you. Heat spread through your lower stomach, tightening deliciously with shocks of pleasure. Kensei determinedly devoured you, wet lapping noises loudly filtering through the room.

His tongue penetrated you deeply, tasting the increasing wetness you produced. The steady rhythm inching you closer to release, fanning the embers of warmth into a burning inferno. You moaned loudly, arching your back. Your hand darted to his hair, interweaving your fingers through the grey strands pushing him deeper into your core as your hips grind up to meet that devilishly skilled tongue.

Kensei growled into your cunt, stopping his actions. Your head snapped up with a whine of protest, to meet his hardened stare over your mound, eyes flashing in warning. Detangling your hand from his hair, Kensei returned it to the bed beside you, message being loudly received.

No touching

His smouldering eyes burned into you a moment longer, accentuating the point, before delving back in to stroke you velvety heat. He meticulously began tasting as much as you as he could reach, gliding along the secret pleasure points hidden within you. Letting your head fall back into the plump pillow, hands fisting in the sheets to avoid temptations, you unabashedly moan out your approval.

Kensei devoured you like he trained. Disciplined, methodically precise and wouldn't quit until he achieved the results he desired. He was attuned to your body, every gasp memorised, any minute clench or shiver used to figure out exactly where to touch to bring you to the peak of pleasure. You had been all to willing to allow him the time to experiment and perfect the way he pleased you, selfishly relishing in the results of his determination.

"Kensei" his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, knowing he preferred when you used his full name. The gentle roll of your hips didn't go unnoticed as his arms wrapped around you, holding your hips in a vice like grip to halt your movements. With increased enthusiasm he delved into your depths, thrusting deeply until you came apart. Fingers squeezed into the soft curves of your hips as you bucked with a shout. Pleasure ripped through you, waves of heat washed over you.

Kensei's busy tongue didn't stop the assault as you clamped down around him. Your release coated his tongue in hot bursts of liquid, wetting his face. Your legs quaked at the shattering orgasm, held firm in his strong arms. Moans freely fell, feeling overwhelmed from the lack of reprieve he gave you. Drinking down your release, Kensei twirled his tongue against your folds, cleaning up the mess he made.

Kissing his way up the length of your cunt, he settled to your throbbing neglected clit. Mouthing the oversensitive bud, Kensei kissed it firmly. He deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue around it teasingly, tracing the shape with the tip. Too soon after your last orgasm, the stimuli was too much. His breath felt like fire, burning the sensitive flesh. Thick tongue brushed against it cruelly, setting alight the hundreds of nerves hidden there.

Your arms reached high, clawing at the pillow you writhed on desperately. The sensation pushed away any coherent thought you had to the back, blinding you with raw pleasure. Teeth grazed your bud, adding varying taxtures among the smoothness of his tongue. His thumbs brushed soothing circles into your hips, silently praising you for your obedience. 

Kensei wrapped his lips around the object of his fixation, suckling gently the way he knew drove you wild. The erotic moans he pulled from you quickened in pace, steadily climbing to an obscene volume. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for the feeling of being filled. His suckling turned into long hard pulls, encouraging blood to rush to the sensitive area.  Body slick with perspiration, chest heaving with deep breaths you're forced into a second orgasm, as blindingly euphoric as the first 

Muscles tensed painfully in your legs as your blindly rode the wave of pleasure. Calling out his name desperately at the never ending suction he deliver to your swollen nub. "Kensei" you gasped, clawing at the pillow beneath you desperately, "Kensei, please, it's too much"

Kensei shook his head buried in your dripping heat negativity, he wasn't finished and you were going to take it. His hands slipped from your hips to cup your ass, pushing it into the air and into his hungry mouth. Slurping away your release had you seeing stars, dancing white lights filtered through the darkness of your tightly shut eyes. 

Your body was spent, bones felt liquefied in your limbs. The pull of sleep loomed ominously over you, ready to claim you once released from pleasures consuming rapture. His crocked nose brushed against your clit as his tongue delved into your core, pulsating erratically around the invading tongue. 

"Kensei, please" tears sprung to your eyes, leaking down the side of your face to wet the cotton beneath. Your body trembled, nerves alight with over sensitivity at his relentless assault. " I can't, I can't it's too much" your whine went unanswered, only spurring him on in his mission to taste every inch of you. Supporting your ass with once hand, Kensei brought the other to your cunt, easily sliding two thick digits into you. 

The blissful feeling of being stretched silenced your begging, savouring the stretch of being filled. Kensei didn't hesitate to plunge them into you quickly, curling to reach the spongy part with practiced accuracy at every thrust. His fingers squelched through your already sopping cunt, juices flowing over his fingers, wetting his hand and the sheets below. 

Kensei could feel your legs quake around him, thighs pressed into his shoulders trapping him between your legs. He twirled his tongue against your clit, sucking it between his lips in a harsh pull. Listening intently to your loud moans, Kensei felt all his pent up frustration Ooze out of him as you writhed beneath him, shouting out his name beautifully. 

You came with a yell, bucking your hips erratically dislodging the hold Kensei had on your abused pussy. His fingers slowed in you, easing you through the wave of pleasure blinding you. Your legs slumped against the mattress when he removed his fingers, leaving a parting kiss on your mound, Kensei wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up to meet you 

He laid heavily next to you, pulling your twitching body into his strong chest, his arms wrapped around you, rubbing soothing circles into your breath as you came back down to earth. Your mind was sluggish, eyes struggling to stay open as you nestled into his chest, his strong heart beat  soothingly pulsating near your ear. A gentle kiss to your forehead had you tilting up your chin, asking for a kiss. 

Kensei obliged, languidly caressing your tongue with his own, Tinted with the taste of your pleasure. You cupped his jaw, smoothing over the skin softly.  He looked relaxed, eye brows no longer in a deep furrow, tightness of his jaw released. His eyes bore into your own with so much adoration and care that it stole your breath away. 

"what about you?" You ask, brushing your knee against his hidden cock. Kensei shook his head silently, pulling you to drape over his chest as he sunk into the bed, finally relaxed. Kensei closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep, holding onto you closely. 

You were all he needed.

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