#sky light maple

[mapleglasses27]

Blue Peonies and Yellow roses. (Part 1)

Blue peonies and yellow roses. Your favorite. 

You’d gotten them every single anniversary you celebrated with Shoto. 

It was 1 am now. You were done waiting.

 It was your anniversary today. 

Not any old anniversary, your marriage anniversary. He should’ve been here. Postponed his meetings, just as you had, put his phone on silent, and gotten his ass here. 

He should have been there.

But you had to face it.

He hadn’t really been there for the past few months now. You hadn’t minded, you yourself were busy, your corporate job requiring you to produce a significant number of presentations from scratch in a matter of weeks. 

But you did notice things. 

You noticed how, gradually, Shoto had stopped texting you whether he was going to be late or not, and how you had started seeing his assistant, Vivienne, more than you saw him. 

You noticed how he was more like a ghost around the house, knowing he had been there when you spotted more than a few dirty dishes, his formals in the laundry, and faint steam from the hot showers he would’ve taken. 

You’d always felt guilty. If only you’d stayed up a little later, woken a bit earlier, you could’ve caught a glimpse of him. 

But today was your anniversary. You knew he should’ve been there. 

You hadn’t gotten a text, much less a call, or flowers, gifts, cards, anything, from him. 

Meanwhile, you were sitting here, having sent all of the above to his office. 

You got up from the bed, deciding to busy yourself with some work, a few chores, anything to take your mind off of him. 

A knock echoed throughout the house as you made your way to the sink. 

A small smile made its way onto your face, and hope blossomed that it was Shoto who was knocking on the door. 

You pulled on the latch, pivoting the door open. 

You were not met with Shoto. 

It was Vivienne, holding a bouquet of blue peonies and yellow roses wrapped in shiny blue paper, a small note pinned to the paper that said, ‘Happy Anniversary, Y.n!’

A sigh escaped your lips, the small smile long disappeared, as you looked to the side to try to hide your disappointment. 

“Come in, Vivienne.” You said, pointing her to the couch. 

“Mr. Todoroki asked to give this to you. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it. There’s a meeting tomorrow-” 

“There always is, isn’t there?” You interjected coldly, regretting your decision a moment later. 

“Sorry. I’m just a little…on edge.” You apologized, and Vivienne gave you a polite smile. 

“Did he receive my gifts?” You asked, and a look of guilt flashed on Vivienne’s face. 

“No, not really. He was in the conference room all day.” 

You looked at the bouquet. It was beautiful, perfectly anniversary-like. 

But Shoto knew you liked lilacs, not yellow roses or blue peonies. 

“He doesn’t remember, does he? That it’s our anniversary?” You asked, “You picked up the flowers, right?” 

Vivienne looked to the floor, fidgeting with her phone. 

“Where is he, right now?” You asked, a new resolve in your mind.

“As in, right now?” Vivienne countered, surprised. 

“Yes, right now. Where is he?” 

“At, at the office! But what are you going to do?” 

“Meet him.” You said, as you picked up your car keys and put on your coat. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You pulled up in front of Shoto’s office. You got off, your coat swishing behind you, as Vivienne tried to stop you, giving reasons of meetings, conference, that he wouldn’t be able to come outside, and other things that didn’t hold meaning to you right now. 

You walked in front of the receptionist. 

“I’m Mr. Todoroki’s wife, Y.n L.n. Where is he right now?” You asked her, your fingers tapping impatiently on the glass of the table. 

The receptionist looked panicked, picking up her phone and calling someone. 

“Excuse me for a minute, I will be right back.” The receptionist backed away into a little room and showed no signs of coming back by her expression. 

You turned to Vivienne, and asked her,“Which conference room is it?” 

“Uh- I, um, do you really need to do-” 

“Which one, Vivienne?”  You prodded, giving her a pointed glare.

“Conference room 7, 3rd floor.” Vivienne blurted out, and you headed for the lift. 

“Please wait Ms. Y.n, is this necessary-” 

“Yes, Vivienne, it very much is. Shoto isn’t here on our anniversary, I haven’t seen him for weeks, and I really don’t care if he is at a conference. I’m sure you’ll work something out.” 

The lift had arrived at that point, and your foot was already in the lift when Vivienne pulled you back. 

“He isn’t there.” 

Stunned, you looked back at her. 

“Where is he, then?” You asked. 

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you…But I don't want to cheat you like this.” She said. She looked incredibly guilty. 

You turned yourself towards her, a questioning look on your face.

“Come with me, I’ll show you where Mr. Todoroki is.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

You got out of your car after a measly 30 mins, and in front of you was Shoto’s beach house. 

The lights were on, creating a dim glow around the window. 

Vivienne took out a master key, fumbling with it until she found the right one. 

She put it into the lock, and the door opened very silently. 

You put your coat on the couch, seeing Shoto’s blazer on the far side of the room, looking like it was thrown there. 

There was a fur coat lying next to it as well. 

There were faint noises coming from the bedroom, and god even if all the signs pointed to Shoto cheating on you, even then, it had to be explainable-

Vivienne opened the door. She took a step behind going into the living room, leaving you, Shoto, and the other girl to your devices. 

You were tear-stricken. You tried your best to hold your sobs and be quiet, but Shoto heard it. 

He turned around surprised out of his mind, at the fact that he had been caught cheating. 

He abandoned the girl, running across the spacious room to get to you, and he almost crashed into your arms when you stopped him. 

He felt pain blossom around his chest, as your force quirk got out of control the moment you held out your hands to stop him. 

You weren’t sad anymore. 

You weren’t angry. 

You were cold. 

“Y.n, please, I’m sorry! I just wasn’t able to stop, I promise that it’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry-” He started crying out. 

You pushed him away. He felt the force lighten on his chest, but the weight gained on his shoulders. 

You adjusted yourself, pulling up your collar and slicking back your hair. 

“This, Mr. Todoroki, will be the very last time you lie to me.” 

“No, please Y.n, don’t do this, I’ll change, I’ll leave that whore behind!” 

“A whore?” You made eye contact with him, your eyes colder than he had ever seen them. 

“You there. Did you know Mr. Todoroki was married?” You asked the girl.

“I-I did. But he told me he was in the process of a divorce-” She replied, stuttering over her words. 

“Thus proven, Mr. Todoroki, that you are the whore, and a liar. And the both of us here are just idiots for falling for your trap. I wish your new girl the best of luck. I don’t have anything against her. If anything, I feel sorry that it is her turn to suffer now.” 

Your words cut like sharp knives into Shoto, as he stood there, hyperaware of your cold gaze, and composure. 

How you maintained your composure and calmness in such a situation scared him. 

Had you given up on him? 

He stood there, silent. It was his fault, utterly and completely. 

He willed himself to move after a few minutes. He made his way to the living room, seeing the swish of your coat. 

All you had left behind were blue peonies and yellow roses. 

Your favorite. 

#shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki angst #x reader #bnha x reader #sky light maple #mha x reader #shoto drabbles #shoto x reader angst

[annieqattheperipheral]

y'all remember this willy celly from this season

mitchy: 🥹

#william nylander #mitch marner #my leafies #toronto maple leafs #the sweet magic of these babies. when they spark up they absolutely light up the entire night sky. they got me poetryizing #i miss them sm🥺 #not even a dirty panther pulling on his jersey could hold him back. sigh...

[kdphotos]

Ueno Park, Ueno, Tokyo Prefecture, Japan

©️KevinjDixon

#photography #photo #light #architecture #blue sky #maple leafs #japan #japanese #no photoshop #autumn #fall aesthetic #autumn trees #ueno park #japan beauty #japan travel #japan photos #original photography #original photographers #original post #artists on tumblr #kanagawa #tokyo

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #fluff #fic #13atoms #im so sorry if this is ooc

[actiniumwrites]

Not sure if you’re taking request still but if you are was wondering if you could right abt reader hiding their fever from Tighnari or Diluc (or both)

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

synopsis: in which you try to hide your sickness from them, just trying to stay out of their way, except it doesn’t quite go to plan

characters: heizou, thoma, tighnari, dottore, and childe x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, descriptions of being sick, a tiny bit of swearing, established relationships

notes: thanks for the request! i tried pretty hard to come up with something for diluc but i wasn’t able to so i just did tighnari. i also added in some other characters, hope that’s okay :) also reminder that this is a relatively old request and i’m not actively taking requests!

heizou:

you hadn’t intended to ever hide your sickness from him, honestly

you woke up with the incoming feeling of what you assumed was a fever. your temperature was high and you felt fatigued

still, when your red haired boyfriend came prancing into your shared bedroom excitedly shaking your shoulders begging you to join him on his day off, you felt as though you couldn’t refuse

he was just so happy and you didn’t want to ruin that, not when he had been so stressed recently

walking around ritou with him seemed to be alright

the weather wasn’t bad and he even took you to a few shops for some lunch and souvenirs

but as the time passed, your head felt dizzier and your eyes stung a bit. the red of the maple trees was blending with the blue of the sky and the shops around began to spin

“are you okay?” he had asked worriedly, noticing your eyes began to droop and the overall fatigue you seemed to be experiencing

he put a hand to your forehead and noticed the burning sensation and light sweat building quickly

“shit, you’re sick? why didn’t you say anything?” he asked as he began to rush you home. his arms were around you, steadying you against him

“you were so excited,” you mumble against his shoulder, “i didn’t wanna ruin that, but it looks like i did anyway.”

the detective’s heart ached as the words left your mouth, he couldn’t believe you would say something like that, “please don’t say that again. your health matters way more than my fun, don’t ever forget that.”

when you got home, you fell asleep quickly, all snuggled up in the warm covers

heizou dimmed the lights and brought some medicine and water to place on the table next to you for when you woke up

as he got in the bed with you, he made sure to pull the blankets snuggly over you and bring you closer to his chest and placing a small kiss to your forehead

“i love you,” he whispered before shutting his eyes and holding you close.

thoma:

thoma hadn’t asked you to help him with chores, but here you were…helping him with chores

although the weather was beautiful, it was spring and in influx of new leaves and all sorts of pollen was in the air and on the floors of the estate

you were kind enough to help your boyfriend out with all of the spring cleaning to prevent him from getting stressed

unfortunately, it only lead to you getting stressed and consequently sick

you had already felt the oncomings of sickness for the past week

from various headaches, lack of sleep, the inability to eat, all the way to a runny nose and sore throat — you knew it was only going to worsen, but still clung to the hope it was just spring allergies

still, you chose to help him anyway while also leaving out the details of your sickness

about two hours had passed since your last break before fatigue hit you hard. the rake you had been using to gather fallen flowers was now leaned against the wall

your arm was resting against the railing to balance yourself as you sat on the small set of stairs under the shade

“thoma,” you called out to him through shut eyes and rushed breaths, “i’m so sorry, i- i don’t think i can help you anymore.”

he ran to you almost instantly, dropping everything in his hands to check if you were okay

when he saw you weren’t, he rushed you inside to your guys’ shared room

“oh archons, i’m so sorry i didn’t notice! you really didn’t have to help me if you weren’t feeling good,” he apologized, urgently trying to help you

it was like that for hours after

he was constantly apologizing for not noticing and you could tell he truly felt bad

he even brought you fresh homemade soup and anything else you so desired. you name it, he got it

at the end of the day, he fell asleep alongside you, swearing to stay by you until you felt better.

he didn’t even care if he got sick. if it was for you, it was worth it

tighnari:

tighnari had been frustrated all week

you had noticed that almost instantaneously and even if you hadn’t, all of his grumbling, dark eye bags (which he never seemed to have), and the distance he was placing between you would have made it blatantly obvious

he didn’t seem himself as of late and that made you feel a bit down yourself

eventually it got to the point where his mood was dampening everyone else’s and you had fallen ill

the forest watcher was so stressed that he hadn’t even noticed

you had tried to tell him when he requested you help him with collecting samples of withered areas, but he was quick to shut you down before hearing you out, requesting that you, “please just help me without complaining.”

under normal circumstances, you would have told him off and not allowed him to dictate over you like that, but you weren’t feeling well at all and didn’t have the energy to argue

besides, it would only be an hour and a half right? you figured you could get through that

you should’ve known what you were getting into. your boyfriend always took longer than expected, though you hadn’t expected an hour and a half to turn into two, which then turned into three

when you realized the time, you began to ask to go home and just come back tomorrow. it was getting dark and was definitely a reasonable request of him

but tighnari wasn’t in the mood and he brushed you off, choosing not to answer your question

moments later, his equipment fell and broke — almost as if karma had struck him

he was never one to lose his cool so easily, but here he was yelling at nothing and kicking his bag over

when you had asked him to calm down, he refused and snapped at you too.

he didn’t mean it — you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like he did. like he meant to snap at you and that all his anger was somehow your fault

mixed with the fatigue and shivers from your now fully developed fever, your eyes drooped and you fell forward into unconsciousness

hours had passed before you awoke. but when you did, you found tighnari right by your side handing you a cup of water and some of his homemade medicine

“i’m so sorry,” he started quickly, stumbling over his words as he tried to apologize, “i was so selfish forcing you to go with me. i mean, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even notice when their partner is sick?”

you cough before responding, “you were a little harsh, but it’s okay now. you were just stressed and no one was around to help you out when you needed it, so don’t feel too bad okay?”

he nodded sadly and fell against your lap, still guilt-stricken by his lack of awareness and clouded mind from just a mere few hours ago

he would take the next week off he decided. taking care of you was more important and he had a lot of making up to do

dottore:

you weren’t surprised the doctor had failed to recognize the fact that you were sick

while he was a doctor, he wasn’t one that cared for his patients or anyone besides himself

when he had called you to his lab early one morning to aid him in some lab work, you knew there was no chance of it ending well

you loved him, you really did, but your boyfriend was pushy. and when his mind was set on something, it became the most important thing to him

today he had asked for your assistance in his lab for whatever new experiment he had conjured up this time

initially, you refused as you weren’t feeling well and didn’t have the energy

but, as aforementioned, dottore is a stubborn man and wouldn’t take no for an answer

“dottore, i’m not feeling we—“ you tried to argue with him

“ah ah, i do not care what excuse you have this time. i need your help and only your help.”

he didn’t even hear you out

so you sucked it up and helped him

about an hour had passed when you began feeling strained

back and forth of reaching for different materials and finding information for him became too much

“can we just take a break?” you breathed out heavily, immune system weak from your sickness

“no, what did i tell you? it is imperative that we do not stop until this is finished,” he stops for a moment, tone softening as he turns to you, “i’ll take you out to that place you’ve been wanting to try later, i promise. just, help me with this and we can go.”

you smile at the offer, happy he was finally making the time to go out with you, but it wasn’t enough

as soon as he asked for the next object, your dizziness kicked in as your neck craned to see it up on the high shelves of his lab

and the next thing dottore heard was a thud with you on the ground

“dottore… i can’t— i’m so sorry,” tears pool at your eyes as your fever worsens

he helps you up with a stern look, his arms wrapped around yours as he pulls you closer to inspect your face, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“are you serious? i did tell you! you didn’t listen to me,” you exclaim

dottore softens in the way he only does around you, quietly offering you an apology and his coat to warm up your shivering body “i apologize, my love. i should not have been so neglectful of my own partner.”

he’s careful as he carries you to your shared bed and wraps you up:

“how about that restaurant? i’ll pick up whatever you want.”

childe:

sometimes childe can be a literal child. you knew that when the two of you began dating. sometimes you minded, other times you didn’t

he had a way of nagging when he wanted things and whining when he didn’t get them

you hadn’t gotten out of bed all morning and childe was getting impatient, hoping you would spar with him today for fun

you didn’t bother to tell him you were sick, thinking that he’d eventually realize later in the day

but childe was having one of those days and didn’t have a care in the world for anyone but himself

he came in to your shared room and collapsed on you, completely missing the pained grunt you let out as complaints flew left and right out of his mouth

things like: “spar with me, please!” and “c’mon we haven’t challenged each other in so long!” among many other complaints

he was right, it had been along time. and while you didn’t exactly want to spar with him today, you figured if you just indulged him for one round he would let it go

so you got up and got your equipment desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your headache

childe was beaming with excitement as he kissed your cheek and ran out to grab his equipment

when you got outside to join him, the chilly wind of snezhnaya bit at your skin and made your nose run faster than it had been before

childe quickly went in for a few hits, you dodged them and countered him quickly

it seemed to increase his determination as he charged at you effectively hitting you in the side

you didn’t let it affect you too much, aside from a bit of coughing which your boyfriend had chalked up to being from the impact of the hit

you had only lasted ten minutes longer before he landed one last hit, knocking you to the ground

“oh, c’mon! that one wasn’t even that bad. don’t tell me you can’t handle a hit that weak!” he laughed, just teasing you

you bent over on your hands and knees, violently coughing as tears poured out from your eyes

“hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” childe panicked as he dropped to his knees next to you with one hand placed on your back to support you

his hand reached your forehead, feeling a burning sensation, “woah, you’re burning up! why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“you were—“ you were cut off by your coughs, “so excited to spar. i figured if i just indulged you for a round or two i’d be fine…”

“hey, you didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, “i would’ve understood if you just told me. i care more about you than fighting, you know that.”

childe picked you up quickly and brought you back inside your shared home and to your bed, wrapping you up cozily under the covers before joining you

“childe, no— you’ll get sick,” you tried to push him away.

he smiled and firmly placed a kiss on your lips,“oh c’mon, when have i ever cared about that?”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #heizou x you #heizou x y/n #heizou x reader #thoma x you #thoma x reader #thoma x y/n #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #dottore x y/n #dottore x you #dottore x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #childe x reader #heizou #thoma #tighnari #dottore #childe

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #4

CH4. 0800-Awkward | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Eddie’s van was cleaner than you expected and it smelled like mint gum and coffee. There were sheets of paper on the passenger seat he cleared for you with quick hands, boyish scrawls of ink noting down recipes and ingredients, a page of music in between. 

Music blared from the radio when Eddie turned on the engine and he scowled at the noise, bashing the button to turn it off so you were both squished between awkward silence instead. You put your hands on your lap, sitting up too straight, throat tight. 

The quiet enveloped you both. 

“Where am I takin’ you?” Eddie asked gruffly once he turned out of the parking lot. The rain was still bouncing off the roads, the sky dark and angry, navy coloured clouds blocking out all the light. “You live near Robin, right?”

You nodded, pulling at your knuckles until you gave in and picked at a nail, nervousness clawing at you like a persistent puppy. The boy beside you made your stomach tumble, and you weren’t quite sure why yet. “Yeah, just off fourth and Maple,” you told him. “But you can drop me off at the pharmacy, it’s only, like, a ten minute walk from there.”

Eddie scoffed at your suggestion, like he’d do no such thing, but he didn’t say anything else. So you spoke instead, your heart in your dry mouth, watching the boy’s profile, wondering how someone so pretty could be so damn mad all the time. Was it just you?

“So, uh, is Wayne your dad?”

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off the road, he just stepped on the accelerator a little too hard when the lights changed from amber to green. When the engine stopped yelling, he answered. “He’s my uncle.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. Something told you that asking anything about Eddie’s father would result in a very quiet, very tense ride back to your apartment. “He’s real sweet— your uncle. He’s been super nice to me.”

“Wayne’s nice to everyone,” Eddie replied shortly and it hurt like a kick to the stomach. 

The breath left you and you deflated, just a little. The skin around your thumb was becoming raw from your picking. You couldn’t help it, even if you muttered it as you looked out the window. “Clearly it’s not a family trait.”

“What?” Eddie’s voice was all surprise, even the van juddered as he pressed on the brakes a little too hard. You glanced over at him, chin ducked down, fingers torturing the ones on your other hand. Eddie was all raised brows and parted lips, an almost curl of amusement on them. “What did you say?”

It was a dare, a challenge. A ‘go on, say that again. Are you brave enough?’  

You glared at him, just like he loved to do to you so often. “I said, clearly, it’s not a family trait.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie laughed, a rough bark that told you he didn’t actually find you funny at all. 

You were a built up dam, spilling over the top with a new job, new friends, a new apartment in a new town. It was scary. It had been hard. 

You burst. 

“You’re so mean to me,” you told him hotly, “all the time! And then you apologise, only for it to last until the end of your shift. I know I’m not like, the best waitress— I mean, I’m hardly Nancy, but I’m trying! I— I haven’t done anything to you.” You sniffed, you wobbled. Tears threatened you both and your voice came out a little higher now. “Have I? If I have, I didn’t mean to.”

You dragged a hand over your face and when you looked back to the boy, Eddie looked horrified. He was pink in the face, eyes darting from you to the road and back again, his finger curling around the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip. He didn’t say anything. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you muttered to your lap and when Eddie slowed to the next stop sign, you flung a hand onto the door handle. “Just drop me here.”

The sound of the rain slapping the pavement only grew louder when you managed to open the door a crack and it seemed to spur Eddie into action. He leaned over you and grabbed at your hand, using it to pull the door shut again. It snapped back into place and Eddie was scowling when you swore at him in return. “Fucking Christ, woman,” he huffed. “I’m takin’ you home, alright? You’ll drown out there.”

“It’s a bit of rain, Eddie,” you snapped. “I lived in Chicago, I’ll survive some water.” Your ferocity was short lived, because you gave in with a huff, eyes watering once more as you pressed yourself against the seat and crossed your arms in defeat. 

There was a voice in your head, someone from an old job, an old classmate in middle school, your mom. It didn’t matter who, they were all cruel. Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby. 

“Can you just - fuck - can you just let me talk?” 

You watched as Eddie licked his lips, maybe out of nerves and he gripped the steering wheel harder still. You thought he’d maybe yell at you, maybe he’d tell you exactly why he was so hot and cold with you, maybe he’d explain in detail why you’d managed to piss him off. 

Instead, he asked, “why’d you leave Chicago?”

You stared at him. Was he joking? Was he playing some kind of weird joke? But Eddie waited, his face a pretty picture of sincerity and he glanced at you from the road as often as safety would let him. 

“Uh, I didn’t like it,” you scrunched your face at the memory, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Too big, too loud. I don’t really—” you searched for the right word, one that wouldn’t make you sound weak and small. “I don’t enjoy big cities. They’re too much.”

Eddie nodded and suddenly, suddenly, you were having a conversation with him. “I get that. My mom moved to Philadelphia, I don’t see her much, but I used to visit when I was a kid. Hated that no matter what time of night it was, it was never quiet - or dark - fuckin’ lights everywhere.”

There was a silence before you pressed your lips together and hummed. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You could never see the stars in Chicago. I missed that.” 

The rain was letting up now, nothing more than a horrible drizzle that you knew would still soak you to the bone, but it was quieter. Softer. The sky turned lilac, a hazy kind of purple blue as the sun tried to break through. 

“Where did you grow up?” Eddie peered through his curls at you, his fingers unfurling from the death grip he had on the wheel. He turned down Main Street, one hand in his lap, his head leaning back against the chair. “I know it wasn’t here - would’ve remembered you.”

“Fortville,” you told him, wondering if you just kept talking, your heart would stop racing at what he’d just said to you. “With my parents. It was a tiny place, not much there, probably even smaller than Hawkins and we had chickens and a dog my mom rescued just before I was born. I liked it though, it was a nice place to grow up.”

“Why’d you leave?”

You shrugged, turned to look out the window at the spots of rain on the glass, the kaleidoscope of colours they made now the sun shone through them. “Dad left, found another family. Mom turned mean.” You didn’t elaborate more than that and Eddie noticed how your voice turned softer, even quieter. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie answered and you couldn’t help but notice that when he wasn’t frowning, when the lines between his brows were gone, his eyes were the colour of dark chocolate, big and earnest looking. “I can, uh, relate. Kinda.”

A comfortable silence passed after that, one that came with the break of the clouds, dark shadows giving way to a late evening sunset, turning the wet sidewalks golden. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you, quick flickers of his eyes that went from your face to where your fingers were picking at your nails on your lap. 

“You haven’t— you haven’t done anything to me,” Eddie murmured. You looked up at the sound of his voice, nails forgotten about and you saw that flush on his cheeks rise over his nose, turning it pink. He licked his lips and you tracked the movement, feeling the nerves roll off of him and fill the space between you. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t, I didn’t mean to be… mean.”

Eddie parked the van and you blinked, not even realising that he’d stopped on your street. Your apartment building was just a little down the road, waiting. 

“You lied to me when I came in that day,” you squinted at the boy, both of you cringing at the memory of Eddie pretending that he wasn’t who he was. That he wasn’t who you were looking for. “Why? Why did you do that?”

Eddie turned a deeper shade of pink, cheeks burning and he fumbled over his words before he swallowed harshly and turned towards you in his seat. He tugged at his curls, unsure what to do with his hands now he didn’t have the wheel to grip. “I’m, shit, I’m sorry ‘bout that. That was— that was just. Stupid.”

You nodded, looking at him with sad eyes that seemed to make his brow knit together in despair. 

“I don’t, uh, I don’t do well with like, making friends?” Eddie offered an explanation that he didn’t seem to be able to admit easily. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to smile at you, tried to ease the feeling of guilt that was swarming him. “I get stuck in my ways, y’know? I just go to work, go home, go back to work— new things—” Eddie glanced over at you with those big eyes. “—new people, make me kinda, nervous. I guess.”

You let your gaze settle on his, watching as he took in a breath and blinked. He looked a little dizzy, his confession making the air a little lighter. But something else lingered. It felt like glitter, a sparkling, pretty thing that swirled in the front space of the van. It was hopeful. 

“I get nervous too. Shy,” you admitted. You felt nervous now, tummy tumbling, a whole aviary loose inside. “About a lot of things.” About you, is what you didn’t say. “But I’m not a dick about it.”

 Eddie snorted and the sound made your lip quirk up, an almost smile. Eddie nodded, like he was agreeing with your passive insult, his lips twisting as he looked you over once more. His gaze was warmer than you’d seen it before, no furrow between his brow to make you wonder if he was pissed at you. Now he just looked… interested.

“You’re right,” he announced. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry.”

“You said sorry earlier,” you reminded him. “With breakfast. But then you were a dick all over again. This hot and cold is making my head hurt.” You fiddled with the hem of your uniform dress, lifting powder blue away from your knee to pick at a loose thread. 

“I did, didn’t I?” The boy let his head fall back onto the window, a dull thud, curls sticking to the glass that was all fogged up from you both sitting talking. The setting sun made him golden, peach coloured cheeks and honey eyes, all bronze shadows and inky lines over his arms, peeking out from his T-shirt. “Was it good? Your breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes and Eddie grinned, truly, he beamed at you. It was a flirtatious thing, a pretty thing - it made your heart pick up and your breath catch in your throat because it was so fucking unexpected. 

“Yes, it was good,” you murmured, back to shy, back to dipping your chin and not really being able to look him in the eye. “But that’s not the point.”

“You’re right,” he said again. The boy seemed so much more agreeable out of his chef whites, without the heat and the noise and the constant sizzle of the kitchen. “I really am sorry - I hate, fuck, I hate that I didn’t make you feel welcome. That was shitty of me.”

You sniffed, pulled the thread loose and watched baby blue spring and curl around your finger. “It was.”

Eddie looked hopeful when you finally found the courage to meet his gaze again. He gave you a slow shrug, a half smile that still didn’t look fully sure. But he tried anyway.. “Can we start again?” He moved, shifting closer to you, close enough that the stick shift was pressing against the slight pudge of his tummy and you could smell his cologne, could see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. He held out his hand for you, silver rings and all. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

He waited with wide eyes for you to reach out too, to slip your hand into his and curl your fingers around his palm. He did the same, engulfing you. His hands were much warmer, wider, bigger. Calloused and with silver scars, no doubt from too sharp knives. 

“It’s nice to meet you.”

—————

You burst through the kitchen doors just as you broke. A burn in the corner of your eyes, a hollow thud in your chest as the adrenaline of being yelled at surged through you. A family with too many kids to keep track of, a plate of fries on the floor before you could bring out every meal, a stressed out mother who took out her frustration on you and the fact you’d forgotten the soda one of the small boys was yelling about. She was sharp about it, loud enough for the other customers to hear and you watched as Robin frowned from the booth she was serving. 

She grabbed your elbow as you passed, feet threatening to stumble with how quick you moved, cheeks hot, throat tight. “I’ll get it,” she whispered. “Take a minute.”

But you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak before you could suck in a breath. “S’fine. It’s fine. I’ll fix it.” 

So you let the kitchen door hit the wall as you almost ran in, eyes blinking back tears of embarrassment and the noise was enough for Eddie to look up from the grill where he was flipping burgers. He frowned at the sight of you, but this time, he looked concerned. You rushed past him to grab the glass of soda that was sitting forgotten on a tray - next to the extra basket of fries the woman had requested, fuck - and turned on your heel to go back out the way you came. 

“Hey,” Eddie called after you, “what’s wrong?”

You brushed him away with a raised hand, the other holding the tray of missed items and you didn’t trust yourself to look back at the boy as you rushed back out the door. You sniffed and blinked before you put on a smile, approaching the woman who’d loudly berated you in front of the entire diner. 

“I’m so sorry again,” you whispered as you placed the drink and fries on the messy table. One of the kids screamed and you flinched, trying your best to keep the smile on your face as the woman turned to you. “If there’s anything else I can get you, ju—”

“If there’s anything else I need, I’ll get it myself,” she scoffed meanly. Her voice was too sharp, still too loud, a biting thing that dug into your arm and wouldn’t let go. “You got a pretty face, honey, but that’s not gonna get you far. Can hear that empty space in that head from all the way over here.”

You blinked again, uncaring that a tear slipped out, a hot drip of water down one cheek. You kept smiling. In fact, you smiled all the way back into the kitchen before your breath stuttered and your face crumpled. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon.” Eddie. At your side, a hand catching your elbow, fingertips grazing your skin like he was still too unsure to hold you fully. “C’mere. It’s fine.”

He led you through the kitchen, hand guiding you so your blurry eyes didn’t lead you into the corner of a station. There was something spicy cooking in a pan, garlic and chilli and soy that Argyle took over stirring as Eddie left it alone in favour of you. Jim must’ve heard the commotion in the dining room, ‘cause he made a rare appearance outside of his office, hand holding onto the door frame as he leaned out, frowning at what he saw. 

“Chicago,” he called through the kitchen, voice booming over the radio, the sizzle of the grill, the drone of the vents. “You good? You wanna talk?”

You turned, bumping into Eddie’s side and shaking your head, all whilst trying to smile and appear like you were absolutely fine. Totally normal. Definitely not crying like a baby. You cringed, turning back around and ducking your chin to hide your glossy eyes, your wet cheeks. 

“S’fine, Jim,” Eddie called back. “I’ve got her. Jus’ give us five minutes.”

“Munson, you got burgers on!” Your boss called back, you heard him sigh and Argyle told him that he’d manage. 

“Five minutes!” Eddie said again, his voice sharper and louder than before and you were moving faster to the back door, bypassing the walk in altogether. 

“If they burn, that’s too much money to get thrown in the trash, Eddie,” Hopper complained. “That’s prime fuckin’ beef from the Sinclairs, Eddie and I don’t got time to get Lucas back out for another delivery— hey! Are you listen—”  

Eddie ushered you out of the fire exit, blue skies and too bright light making you squint, a rush of hot air that was heavier than the kitchen, muggy and smelling like cut grass and the smoke that came from the vent on the wall. The door snapped shut before Jim could finish talking. 

The silence was a warm thing, cloying like the summer afternoon, the edge of a heatwave, the steam from the kitchen that lingered in the small alleyway out back. You brought the heels of your palms to your eyes, pushing there meanly as you sniffed a little wetly and tried to stop your bottom lip from trembling. If you faced the crumbling wall, maybe you could pretend Eddie wasn’t there, watching you. 

“Hey, c’mon.”

You groaned. 

“C’mon,” Eddie coaxed again, his hand pulling at your wrist, urging you to stop hiding. “You gotta stop letting customers get you all upset like this. ‘Specially the ones that are utter assholes.”

“You heard her?” You asked weakly, embarrassment crawling up your neck. You knew he would’ve, shit, Wayne probably heard it all the way down the street. Of course Eddie heard it from the kitchen. “God, that’s so—” you let out a small groan of anger, a soft wail that was tinged with a little shame.

“No, no, stop that,” Eddie frowned as you buried your face in your hands once more. He got you by your shoulders, palms and fingers curling over the bone there, impossibly wide, engulfing. You turned soft for him, letting him manhandle you until you were facing him, brows crinkled, your cheeks warm. “She was a bitch. You’re okay, it’s alright.”

You sucked in another breath, one of those awful ones that hitched and made your throat close up a little. It was hard to look into Eddie’s eyes. They were big and warm and earnest, crazily so, the colour of burnt honey and he was painfully close. The alleyway pushed you both together, space limited between the walls, the empty pallets, the stacked up crates. 

“She was out of order, yeah?” Eddie continued softly, his thumb pushing softly into the meat of your shoulder, drawing circles through your uniform. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all just human here, Chicago. It’s fine.”

You nodded, numb. Tears still stained your hot cheeks, salt gathering in the corners of your mouth and you felt embarrassed at the reaction, the white hot rush of anxiety that gripped the back of your neck as soon as someone raised their voice at you. You blinked again, feeling heavy, another fresh wave of tears making your vision turn into kaleidoscopes. You scrunched your face, annoyed with yourself, head tilting back to the strip of blue sky you could see between the buildings roofs. 

“God, I’m so fucking lame,” you groaned. “So stupid.”

You brought your chin back down to just catch the boy smiling, a dopey, soft thing that made you think he was gonna laugh at you. He did, but it wasn’t mean. In fact, Eddie’s laugh was a damn pretty thing. Scratchy and raspy and warm, enough to make you stop screwing your face up and blink at him. 

“You’re not lame,” he told you firmly. He dropped his hands from your shoulders now that you weren’t intent on hiding. You found you missed the weight of them on you, a grounding feeling that helped the tears subside. “Or stupid. Shit, kid, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I’m always forgetting stuff though,” you argued. The sun was a blazing thing above you both, hot on your head, your shoulders, the back of your neck. Your uniform itched under the heat and you were backing away into the shadows along the line of the diner wall. Eddie followed, shoulder to shoulder as he leaned against the brick, lounging enough to bring him to the same height as you. “I’m messing up orders and I keep walking into the same stupid table - even though it’s always there! I got a bruise on my hip the size of a fucking peach,” you grumbled unhappily. 

Eddie snorted at hearing you swear, a cannonball of a word coming out of your sweet mouth, usually talking softly and shyly at him and customers. He knocked your shoulder with his and tutted. “You’re still new,” he shrugged when you scoffed. You’d been at the diner for almost two months. “Get out of here with that, you are. You’re in a new town and a new job. Give yourself a break.”

“I’m just— god.” You bit down on your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m such a crybaby, I hate it. I must look like such a mess.” Your eyes felt sore, your cheeks puffy and warm, all too familiar and just as embarrassing as it was when you were ten, fifteen, twenty years old. 

Eddie just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his chef whites. He looked at your face, just for a second, before ducking his chin and studying the concrete below his feet. “Nah,” he said quietly, “you look pretty like always.”

It was quiet for a second or two, the surprise on your face morphing into a crooked smile, a quirk of one corner of your lips at the boy’s words. You sniffed and laughed a little watery, a shy sounding thing that made Eddie blink at you. “You’re being nice to me,” you told him.  

He grinned like he couldn’t help himself, a sharp, sudden thing that made his face look even prettier. Curls spilled from his poorly tied bun and his cheeks went rose coloured, more blush than flushed from the heat. He knitted his brows together in faux confusion, tried to act too cool, too blasé. “I am, aren’t I?” He huffed. “Weird.”

You shoved at him in jest, your hand on his shoulder and he barely even budged. But you felt a thrill in touching him, your hand just by the muscles in his arm, where you knew a tattoo lay, curling around a bicep that you couldn’t see under his uniform. It was easy to joke like this, to smile and wipe your eyes one last time when Eddie was playing nice. 

You felt like a teen with a crush, that lovesick, giddy type of softness settling in your chest and it purred when you looked at the boy. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But Eddie got prettier when he smiled at you and when he reached out to straighten the pen that was about to call out of your chest pocket, you were done. A goner. 

You wanted to ask if this made you friends. 

Instead, you swallowed your embarrassment and hoped you hadn’t been staring. “Thank you,” you murmured shyly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Eddie pulled open the fire exit and waited for you to enter first, holding open the door as the noise of the diner flooded back out to you. Kids yelling, the grill popping, the coffee machine whirring. 

“Would you rather Jim gave you one of his famous three minute counselling sessions?” Eddie winced theatrically. “I haven’t had one myself, but rumour has it there’s a stress ball and some talk about toughening up and how the world just ain’t fair.”

You laughed, walking back into the kitchen with Eddie by your side. Your shoulder brushed against his arm and you shook your head, looking up at him with a heat in your cheeks you were sure he’d be able to notice. “No, m’glad it was you.”

You must’ve surprised the boy, because he blinked as he stopped at the grill. Argyle had flipped all the patties and left the spatula by the countertop but Eddie didn’t take his eyes off of you as he grasped it. You watched his brows lift a little, mouth parting before he closed it again and nodded, looking a little numb. 

And then: “cool. Yeah, no, good. Come get me next time too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #linecook!eddie

[sassycheesecake]

It’s a beautiful day during the fall season, the different pretty colors of the leaves that have been changed after summer was over, fall into the cold ground.

Two individuals, one man, with hair as dark as the midnight sky and a woman, drop-dead gorgeous, rest underneath a Japanese Maple tree. But they are not just any individuals.

The 6'3 tall man named Kiyoomi Sakusa, is secretly a yakuza member of the Jackals, one of the most feared mafia groups in Japan. The woman however, is a mere citizen but also the lover of said man. Sakusa took some time off his job to spend it with you instead, Meian thankfully granting him the request.

Collecting bounties and income, smashing a few heads and breaking some bones here and there, Sakusa is a ruthless, cold-blooded hunter when it comes to his position in the yakuza. To you however, he is the most sweet and softest puppy dog.

Sakusa is just relaxing with his head on your lap with his eyes closed, when he felt a very light weight on his head.

Opening one of his dark orbs, he sees that you placed something upon his dark curls, adjusting it as you focus highly on your task.

"What did you put on my head, my love?" He asks you, opening his other eye now as he looks at you with a breathtaking smile.

You’re quiet for a few seconds, when you gaze back into his dark eyes.

"A gift. Now you look even more handsome." You gush at him, blushing slightly at seeing his one-in-a-million-smile that just you get to see.

Sakusa chuckles lightly at your words, reaching up to find out what you placed on his dark curls only to get his tattooed hand slapped away from you.

"Ow. Why did you slap my hand away?" He pouts as he rubs his hand over the one you slapped, even though it barely hurt him.

"I just spent an eternity making you a magnificent flower crown and placed it on your unruly, complicated black curls, if you even move a single millimeter you will ruin my perfect placement." You scold him while waving a finger in his face.

"I didn’t know an eternity in your language means five minutes."

Sakusa snatches your hand and brings it to his face, pretending to bite it.

You screech in fear while quickly pulling your hand out of his and the ravenette chuckles darkly at your action.

"That’s what you get for trying to bark orders at me, you little germ." His hand finds yours again, intertwining your fingers with his big, slender ones. And you remember, that these fingers carry lots of blood on them, yet you don’t care. If anything, it makes Sakusa even hotter than he already is. And he is yours alone, as much as you are his.

"What? I can’t bark orders at you but Meian can?" You arch in eyebrow in annoyance.

"Yes." He bluntly states as he continues to look up at you.

"And why’s that?" You pry further.

"Because Meian pays my bills and he is my boss." Sakusa explains as if he’s talking to a toddler.

"What if I were your boss? Would you listen to me then?" You make a cute face, batting your eyelashes at him.

"No." Your lover disagrees.

"WHAT?!"

"I wouldn’t be able to take you seriously. And I don’t think any of the guys would. You’re too cute and you have the face of an angry wet kitten whenever you are mad at me." Sakusa explains with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Also. I know that Miya and Joffe keep eyeing you whenever they think I am not looking. And I could smash their skulls through the nearest wall whenever I see them do that. You’re already a distraction to me. Imagine the chaos if you have more guys than me thirsting after you." Sakusa adds with a grumble, as he crosses his arms across his chest.

"Awww look at you, Mr.Big-Bad-I-Beat-Up-People-For-A-Living-Kiyoomi Sakusa. What will those poor people think of you when they find out you’re a big fat softie underneath all those tattoos and that mean scowl of yours?" You tease him, laughing at his scowl that’s directed at you.

"Don’t call me a big fat softie in front of the others. They won’t live to tell the tale." Sakusa closes his eyes again, snuggling more into your thighs.

"Not even Miya?" He can almost hear the grin in your voice.

"Especially not Miya." The man mumbles as he starts to drift off.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyū!! #hq x reader #hq fluff #sakusa x you #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa kyoomi #yakuza!sakusa #yakuza!au #yakuza

[baby-yongbok]

Sun Shower & Golden Hour

Han Jisung x Reader

☼ Genre: Fluff ☼ Summary: Jisung wants to kiss you in the rain. ☼ Word Count: 1.4k

☼ This One shot was Inspired by the song Golden Hour by Jvke

☼ Story Playlist: For You - LeeHi (ft. CRUSH) | Golden Hour - Jake | Exist for Love - Aurora | Belong to you - Sabrina Claudio | Say yes to heaven - Lana Del Rey | j's lullaby - Delaney Bailey

✧ Masterlist ✧

The sunset in Seoul is on another level tonight. The golden rays reflect off of every surface it can reach, creating a beautiful field of deep orange around you. It was Jisung's idea to go on a drive, he wanted to get out of the house and proposed that the two of you grab something to eat and find a place to sit. It started raining shortly after you picked up your food but the last thing on your minds was going home. You drove around, the savory smell of your meals taunting you as you searched for a pretty shot to park and eat. Once Jisung found the perfect spot you set up quickly, eating and talking like you haven't been laid up on each other all weekend. 

The car fell quiet when the rain picked up a bit. There were barely any clouds in the sky, the early evening sun caught the reflection of each droplet that fell from above. Turning it into a drop of honey for just a second before it pooled on the concrete. The view that the two of you found was beautiful. It's a small spot, almost hidden, you'll miss it if you don't look for it. It overlooks the Han river at a breathtaking angle. There's just enough room in front of the car that you could have a picnic here if you wanted to. You'll remember that for next weekend. 

“Baby.” Jisung calls to you before taking another bite of his food. “Wanna do something?”

You hum, swallowing what's in your mouth and keeping your gaze on the evening view. “Like what?”

“I dunno.” He stares down at the food container in his lap, pondering his thoughts for a second before a soft grin pulls at his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

A light chuckle escapes you and you cover your full mouth as you smile. “You've never asked permission for that before, Ji. Of course you can.”

He closes his container, stuffing it back into the take out bag excitedly. “Can I kiss you… in the rain?” You turn to him, taking in his wide and eager smile as he waits for your answer. 

“You wanna do that tik tok thing?” You ask with a grin. Jisung can be sweet sometimes - all of the time - but he's never wanted to do something like this.

“Yeah, I wanna do the tik tok thing. Do you wanna?” You close your food container, putting it in the bag with his and brushing off your hands. You stare out into the rain for a second, taking in its beauty and considering his offer. 

“I dunno.” You sigh, it would be super romantic. 

“Last one out of the car drives home.” Jisung rushes his sentence as he turns to exit the car. He pushes his door open quickly, stepping out into a puddle and cursing through his gleeful giggles. 

“Jisung!” You giggle, scrambling to get out of the car, you step over the puddle on your side and slam your door shut. The cold rain sends a shock to your system and you fumble with the zipper to your hoodie, pulling it up further as an extra layer of protection. 

Your boyfriend is close to the edge of the small cliff that you're parked in front of, taking in the view as the pouring rain flattens his now curling hair. He's caught in the golden hour sunset, causing his eyes to shimmer like freshly tapped tree sap. The smile adorning his lips is sweet like maple and you find your heart bursting at the seams at the sight. 

“Look at this.” You gaze with him. Taking in the moment like you're the main character in your favorite romance novel. That's how Jisung makes you feel anyway. Alive. Loved and untouchable. 

He reaches for your hand, turning to you and pulling you closer to him. He's cold to the touch and you're both soaking wet but everything warms up once he smiles down at you. His cheeks growing red with a cherry blush. Has the sun created a shield around the two of you? Preserving the moment in an eternal glow for both of you to enjoy. You smile at the thought. 

“Come here.” He wraps his arms around your waist and you snake yours around his neck. He leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “You're pretty.” 

You smile up at him, a blush as red as his creeping up on your lips. “Kiss me.”

“Happily.” He raises a hand to cup your cheek as his lips brush against yours in a feather light kiss. You can't help but to smile against him as he kisses you again, harder than before. He sighs and his eyelashes flutter against your skin. He mimics your smile, trying his best to fight back a giggle as he deepens the kiss. 

“You're making me laugh.” He whispers against your lips, causing you to smile wider. “Jagi, come onnn.” He whines at you, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I'm sorry you're just so cute, baby.” He rolls his eyes playfully, running his thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Well then let me be cute and have this moment with you without you making me smile like an idiot.” He leans back in, brushing his lips over yours and falling into a deep passionate kiss. It's your turn to sigh against him as you savor the feeling of him, soaking wet yet warm. Sweeter than the purest honey and making you happier than anything else you've ever prayed for. You relax into him, taking it all in when he smiles, breaking the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut with a faint chuckle. 

“I was being serious and now you can't be!” He laughs harder at your exasperation. Resting his head on your shoulder as he tries to calm himself.  

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I just couldn't help it.” He stands straight, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “I just… love kissing you. I feel so happy every time I get to feel your lips on mine. You're like a dream.” 

He brushes a strand of wet hair sticking to the side of your face behind your ear. He lets his touch linger for a second or two as he takes you in. The sun is creating a halo around you like it's presenting him with the celestial gift of you. Is he falling in love all over again?

“How did I get so lucky? There Isn't a day that goes by where I don't ask myself that question. You're everything that I could ask for and more. You're everything that I've ever wanted, all that I'll ever need.” Tears well up in your eyes and fall with the rain. They catch in the sunlight and become golden fractals before they can hit the ground.

“Ji…” You turn your head into his palm, snuggling into his touch and kissing his wrist. “You confessed already, ya know.” 

He smiles, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your middle. He picks you up, spinning you and pulling a surprised laugh from your chest. He laughs with you as you call out his name, a half hearted plea for him to put your feet back on the ground. When he does set you back down he kisses you quickly. wrapping his arms all the way around you and holding you flush to his chest. 

“I'll keep confessing.” He rubs his hands up your back, smoothing the wet fabric against your body. The rain has slowed now or maybe he's made time stop around you. "Call it practice for my vows. I want to tell you that I love you in every way that I can think of. I find a new way to appreciate you every day.”

“I think that I'm the lucky one here.” You mumble as you search each other's eyes. “I love you, Jisung. So much, I love you endlessly. You make me so happy, I had no clue what it was like to feel this way until I met you and I never want to let it go.” 

He looks away for a second, blinking up towards the sunlight in an attempt to keep his tears at bay. “Dance with me?”

“We're gonna catch a cold.” You laugh but Jisung shakes his head.

“We're already wet, why not dance before we go.” He can see that he's convinced you by the way that you look up at him, he can also tell that you never truly planned to object at all. “Pick a song.” He moves to hold you in a ballroom dancing position, squeezing your hand lightly once it's laced with his. “I'll sing it, any song.”

“Golden Hour.” 

A/N: I'm sorry if this sucked. I was listening to Gold Hour by Jvke at 3 am and just started typing away. I suck at fluff and I'm so nervous to post this.

Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoyed! Feedback and reblogs are extremely appreciated! All support makes my day. 💕

#han jisung x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #han jisung fluff #stray kids imagines #han jisung #stray kids jisung #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios #han x reader #stray kids x reader #skz han jisung #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #skz han #skz jisung #stray kids han #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #stray kids masterlist #skz angst #skz scenarios #han jisung stray kids #han jisung scenarios

[mewje4ns]

How to chess? - Spencer Reid

Playing chess with Spencer Reid. The catch is… you don’t know how the fuck to play chess.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

masterlist

————————

Knock Knock

The sound of my fist sound against Spencer door after I got a text from him saying ‘my house. ASAP.’ I obviously panicked thinking the worst, so now I stand in front of his door in an oversized shirt and sleeping shorts. Spencer door opens to find a wide smile boy. “Sweets!” His hand grabs mine and drags me into his home. “Look what I got.” It was a chessboard. A chessboard?

“A chessboard?” I turn to Spencer and give him the most confused look he’s probably ever received. “That’s what I needed to come over ASAP for?”

“A hand carved chessboard.” Spencer cheeses at me with his hand’s fidgeting in front of him. “Four hundred dollar-”

“Four hundred bucks!” I turn to the boy with my jaw on the floor. “They have these at Target for like 20 bucks Spencer!” He shakes his head and laughs.

“It’s black walnut and sugar maple wood.” He’s fingers tap each other as he stares at the board. “The pieces themselves are incredible. Look at them!” The boy is the happiest I have ever seen him as he grabs my hand and pulls it toward the board then pulls one of the pieces up to show me in detail.

“They are beautiful Spence.” I smile at him and he sits down on his coffee table and motions for me to sit across from him.

“Wanna play?” Spencer cheeses once again and I can’t say no. So I sit across from him and smile nervously. “You’re nervous? Why?” His face scrunches up in genuine confusion.

“I’ve never played chess Spencer.” I give the boy an ‘sorry I’m an idiot’ smile and shrug. “I’m not exactly smart enough to pay attention in this game.”

Spencer smile widens, if that’s even possible. “I’ll teach you.” He leans his head on his shoulders and it tilts as he takes in my face. Those stupid beautiful eyes dance around my features as if he’s memorising each eyelash or flaw. Not that he would ever call them that. “I’ll go easy on you, promise.”

I stick my pinky out and give him a pointed look. “Promise?” He wraps his thumb around mine and nods. “Then okay.” Spencer’s eyes practically light up, like the ambers of a fire floating into the sky. Warm and fuzzy feelings fill my stomach making my hands sweaty. “Don’t get to excited. I’m definitely not a worthy competitor of the glorious Spencer Reid.” I bow down to him while mutter ‘my lord.’

“Okay, these are pawns.” His slim finger points to the knobby looking ones. “Rook,” the castle. “bishops,” the fancier knobby one’s, “knights,” horse “king,” crown “and finally queen,” pointy crown. He smiles at me and I nod in confirmation that I understood what he said.

“The pawn can move two spaces forward if they’ve never moved. They can move diagonally capture other pieces and if they reach the opposite side of the board they can become other pieces like a queen, knight, bishop, or rook.”

“Rook can only move in straight lines.” Simple enough. “Bishops can only move diagonally and the two pieces are always placed on opposite square colors.” I nod and watch his face light up as he explains the game. “Knight can only move in ‘L’s. Like this.” He grabs the horse head and moves it over one spot and up two. “But they can move back unlike the pawns. Same with pretty much every piece.” I hum in understand and he puts the head back in its spot.

“Queens are the most powerful piece.” He picks up the queen piece but is cut off by my god awful joke.

“Girl power.” I raise my fist up and immediately after the joke is blurted out of my mouth I shake my head and throw my hand back into my lap. Spencer thought this joke was hilarious. “Sorry.”

“No, no you are totally right. Girl power.” He snorts, he can’t even try to hide his laughter. “She can move all directs. Diagonally and vertical. The king can only move any which way by one place. The whole point of the game is to corner the king in a way that makes it impossible for him to move without getting caught.”

“Checkmate?” I look at him with furrowed brows as I try to absorb all of his words.

“Yes, checkmate.” His praise lit up my body. I understood chess and Spencer was proud of me? I’m dying a happy woman. “Good job sweets.” I tried to ignore the heat building in my chest but he was just so… ugh. There’s no word in the dictionary to describe the man in front of me. He’s perfect yes, but he’s more than that too. He’s everything. Spencer makes my heart bear and slow down. He makes me hot while being as refreshing as a cold glass of water. His symmetrical smile and stupid face. “Let’s play.”

The game begins, he moves a piece and I try to counter it. Not even 7 minutes later he says “checkmate.” My jaw drops as I study the board.

“What the hell?” I look up at the boy who smiles at me. His eyes scrunch with the smile, my favorite smile of his. “I didn’t even- how did you- Spencer I thought you said you were going to go easy?” He smirks and shrugs.

“I was. You’re just bad.” I shake my head and then he offers a bet. “Loser has to do whatever the other wants.” I nod immediately. “Okay if I win you have to… write ‘Lost to Reid’ on your forehead.”

“Okay if I win, you have to kiss me.” Spencer pauses and the nods with his cheeks flushed pink. He’s only agreeing because he knows I’ll lose.

The second game begins. This one is longer at 24 minutes. “Checkmate?”

“It is checkmate, yes.” Spencer smiles at me. “You won sweets.”

“I won?” I look up at Spence confused. “I win?” Spencer nods and laughs. How did I-

“Guess I gotta pay my side of the deal.” Before I can comprehend what’s going on Spencer pushes his $400 chessboard to the side nearly knocking it off the table and leans over it. His hands grab my face and pull me up to meet him halfway over the table to kiss him. His lips are soft, softer than I had expected from him. His fingers hold my jaw as his head tilts to kiss me deeper. “Good job Sweets.”

“You let me win.” He smiles and watches my face before nodding.

“I let you win.” He kisses me again, his hands slide down toward my neck and pulls me up closer while a quiet groan in the back of his throat. “Needed to lose, I mean I won in a different area.” He smirks a stupid smug smirk that has me pouting at him.

“You fucker.” I shake my head at him. “I thought you were just gonna go easy not cheat.”

“I did go easy, so easy that I set you up for success.” He smiles at me, a stupidly beautiful smile. “Can we kiss more or do I have to lose to you again?”

“We don’t have to play to kiss.”

“Good.” Spencer’s eyes sparkle more than when he was talking about the chessboard.

“Good.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #chuabbachu #fluff #AbbaChu

[honeykaes]

heart's loyalty

pairing: kazuha x femme!reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, heavy angst, use of she/her pronouns and descriptions of afab!reader, based on feudal japan, arranged-marriage with scaramouche, reader is a foreigner, exhibitionism, public sex, praising, body-worship, fingering, creampie, character death, cheater!reader, can be read as yandere!scaramouche, unedited

synopsis: kazuha never thought that when he was assigned to protect daimyo kunikuzuishi’s wife his loyalty would shift from the shogun to you and when you asked to run away with him, he couldn’t deny you.

Early fall was one of Kazuha’s favorite times of the year. The heat from the summer was beginning to drift away as leaves would slowly float down from his favorite maple trees. He loved the garden in the small manor of the daimyo’s wife as it captured his favorite scene perfectly.

As he turned the corner of the manor, he saw your form. You were sitting on a large rock next to the tall maple tree, giving you shade. A solemn gaze had taken up your face as maple leafs slowly drifted down around you. You revealed your hands from the sleeves of your ornate yukata, picking at a small loaf of bread you threw a yard away towards the koi pond.

His autumn-tinted eyes softened, heart warming at the side of seeing you, yet a small sadness clawed at his heart seeing you so depressed. He couldn’t fault your emotions as if he was trapped in a loveless marriage, he couldn’t smile all the time either.

You were a foreigner picked to be the wife of Daimyo Kunikuzushi by the Shogunate, Raiden Ei. She wanted access to your country's military and weaponry that came from the West as a deterrent from anyone who sought to challenge her power. Therefore, you became a sacrificial pawn to a game of chess you had no means of playing, let alone winning.

He remembered the night you first came to the estate as he walked the quiet halls before hearing your sobs coming from the other side of the sliding door. He was merely randomly assigned to be your personal guard by the daimyo for his skills in sword fighting but his lack of heart to actually fight in conflicts unless necessary. 

When he slid the door open, seeing your shocked and tearful face turn in shock that night, he struggled to come up with the words to even greet your depressed form, not knowing what he could say to stop you from crying. He merely walked up and bowed, getting to his knees and lifted his head down, vowing both to you and to his heart to try to give you a better experience of the many years you had awaiting in the country of Inazuma.

As Kazuha walked closer to your form in the garden, your eyes flickered to him—light returning in your dull gaze. He sat besides you on the rock, looking up at the rings of light that managed to escape the maple leaves before placing his pale, calloused hand on yours and weaving his fingers.

A bond between the wife of the daimyo and the samurai guarded to protect her happened gradually but remained strong, leaving both of them longing to be with one another openly. But, when daimyo Kunikuzushi left to return to his larger mansion or to visit the Shogun, it was him that got to warm your bed every night, joined together in a secret but passionate union.

Kazuha was thankful that hardly any workers were at this estate before a small number. Here, they were free to pretend they were together. 

But it was only pretend; a reminder Kazuha so sadly acknowledged whenever the Daimyo would return to break that fantasy.

Kazuha felt you squeeze his hand tighter as he turned his head to your form. You stared out to the koi pond, watching the fish swim in circles in the small patch.

“My bird…you know the one I have in my room right?” you asked in a low voice. Kazuha nodded as you sighed, throwing another small chunk of bread to the pond. 

“..I let it fly free from its cage. When I went to feed it today, it was looking out to the sky. How could I not? A bird isn’t meant for a golden cage” you mumbled. You loved that bird with every fiber of your being, Kazuha knew letting go was harder for you than you let on. Kazuha lifted his intertwined hands with yours to his mouth, offering a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“...I’d go with you in case you decide to follow that bird and leave your cage,” Kazuha replied. You briefly smile before lips curling downwards into a frown, throwing the remainder of the bread in the pond.

“No, you couldn’t Kazuha. Your loyalty was pledged to Shogunate Ei and Daimyo Kunikuzushi. You’d end up getting killed for treason if you decided to escape with you,” you whispered. Kazuha let his hand go from yours, bringing it up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushed against the skin, feeling the warmth from your cheeks.

“I am only loyal to those in my heart,” he murmured, closing the gap between you as his lips graciously captured your own. Your bodies eventually got closer as the samurai's hand refused to part from your cheek. You whispered out his name, wrapped your hands around his neck to kiss him deeper.

You gasped feeling his hips buck and grind at your thigh, parting his lips with heavy breaths.

“We can’t do this here…in the garden. Someone could see—” Kazuha briefly silenced you with his lips before leaning out, trailing his lips along your neck.

“I dismissed everyone to go to their courtier. Only you and me remain in this garden,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe. You softly chuckled before leaning in to kiss the samurai once more as his hands began to paw at your clothed thighs. His hands snuck past the fabric of your yukata and their hadajuban, cupping their cunt eliciting a breathless sigh from you. His lips continued pecking along your neck, so delicate and quick as if a butterfly was landing on them.

Kazuha finger brushed against your clit as jolts of pleasure wavered throughout your body. You ground your core against his hand, desperate to get more friction from the pad of his thumb. He pressed against the bundle of nerves, offering quick circles to it. You whined once more, shifting from his touch.

“Always so lovely and soft for me, my lady,” he murmured, voice muffled as he pressed his mouth against your nape. Your arousal was beginning to drool out of your hole, coating his finger that was toying with your clit with the essence. As his ministrations went faster, two fingers prodded at your entrances—teetering back and forth—before finally allowing them to sink into your cunt. 

As you moaned out his name, you quickly covered your mouth, muffling the soft moans Kazuha so desperately wanted to hear from you. Your walls fluttered against his fingers slowly plunging themselves deeper inside of you. He soon curled them up as he pumped them, your body jolting as he finally found what he was looking for.

Your walls clamped down pulsating against his fingers curling and moving themselves inside of you to massage that spot. Your hips gyrated and grinded, nub from your clit beginning to slightly burn in pleasure.

“That’s right, my dove. Just let yourself fall into the pleasure,” he whispered deep in your ear as his free hand made way to your clothed breast. He gave it a squeeze, moaning lowly himself as if he could perfectly visualize the pair out as he did before. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his thighs together as his cock pressed firmly against the thin fabric of his fundoshi.

His tongue darted from his lips, planting a long stride against your neck, tasting the salty sweet mixture of your sweat and lotions on the skin. His mouth settled against your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to sprout throughout your body.

“Please don’t deprive me of your beautiful voice, dove. I need to hear how I am making you feel,” he moaned, lifting his hand away from your breast to the hand covering your mouth. As he gently moved it away, the corners of his lips curled in delight hearing the soft groans elicited from his fingering continuously pumping themselves inside of you.

“Kazuha..ha! I’m gonna…please! I’m gonna…!” you moaned out, voice beginning to rise in tone from Kazuha’s pace increasing. He quickly leaned forward, capturing your lips once more as you finally reached your high shivering in his touch, hips grinded against his hand.

As he leaned away, Kazuha’s gaze was half-lidded and darkened in lust. Both of your lips are glossy with a translucent string of saliva connected to the pair. His gaze softened once more, admiring your afterglow of your climax.

“You make me feel so drunk as if I was a fool. How easy you tempt me, my dove…” he whispered, sliding his fingers out of your cunt as you whined. His hands snaked through the fabrics once more, revealing the coated digits.

“Perhaps, I should have waited to have you in your chambers. You always taste so divine,” he hummed to himself, pressing his fingers against his mouth. His tongue curled around his fingers coated in your slick, cleaning them before rubbing the excess saliva against his yukata.

“As sweet as always but alas, I don’t think I can wait anymore,” Kazuha groaned. You soon found yourself up on your feet, pinned against the base of the tree as Kazuha’s eyes drank in your disheveled form. 

Kazuha quickly disrobed, pulling his trousers and fundoshi off and exposing his cock against the cool early fall breeze. His haori decorated in maple leaves fell along the gravel of the garden as well, leaving him completely bare as his cock lulled against his toned, pale lower stomach.

He tenderly wrapped his hand around his length before letting out a breath sigh, slowly jerking it as his cock pulsated in his grasp. His base soon shined in precum, now coated on his head that budded from his flushed tip. Kazuha’s gaze rises to yours curling his lips into an amused, and slightly mischievous smile, witnessing your eyes avoiding to look down at his length.

“This isn’t the first time I've had you like this. There’s no need to be embarrassed, although you are rarely cute like this, my dove,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek. You gnaw on your bottom lip, feeling his heavy cock rest against your thigh.

“I-I know that! But we’re outside…,” you whined. Kazuha chuckled, kissing the other side of your cheek.

“Just as our ancestors before us and the animals that roam along these vary lands. There’s no need to be embarrassed, I promise it is just us here and no watchful eyes except my own,” he reassured. You shyly nod as Kazuha’s hand made its way to loosen the obi and grabbed onto the fabric of your kimono, revealing your breasts to him.

He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss against the valley of your breasts before lifting your leg to his hip, exposing your drooling cunt to his gaze. The tip of his cock nudged against your sensitive clit as you whined once more, gliding along your slit as he struggled to find your entrance. With a soft grunt, he finally finds it allowing him to finally sink into your warmth. His pace was slow and deliberate, grinding his pelvis against your entrance.  

You moaning out his name was his favorite melody as you wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to plunge deeper inside of you. The soft noises of nature around you were eventually drowned out by the snapping noises of skin coming to contact with one another and your breathless sighs of pleasure. 

It was overwhelming, feeling your walls desperate to pull him in deeper and fluttered against his sensitive cock. His other hand found it way to your covered ass, squeezing it tightly to push your bodies closer to one another.

“I always find myself spellbound and so captivated by your ethereal form…forgive me for losing myself, my dove,” he moaned, pressing his face against your nape. His pace soon grew faster.

“I will always be yours, no matter what,” Kazuha grunted, strokes becoming faster. Your body bounced at his relentless pace as weaker branches begin to shake and tremble from his pace. Kazuha’s blunt nails dug into the plush skin of your thighs futility trying to sink deeper inside of you, muffled whimpers of your name escaping from his lips. Snapping his eyes shut, Kazuha reached his peak as thick ropes of cum shot inside of you. His hips bucked—weakly thrusting—as he slowly came down, leaving a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Ah…how could I let myself become undone before you…” he softly chuckled, lifting his hand away from the globe of your ass to toy with your throbbing clit to cease your whines. You squirmed in his grip, grinded against his cock still nestled deep inside of you plugging the cum that was threatening to leak out. He grinded his hips, feeling your walls slowly caved down, pressing tighter circles against your clit

“That’s it…you’re almost there…just a little more dove,” Kazuha hummed, flicking your overstimulated clit rapidly. Your back arched, leg shivering in pleasure as you finally reached your high. Kazuha peppered kisses against your nape.

“There you go…such a good, little dove,” he cooed. 

“Kadehara.”

Your eyes softened as you placed your hands against his flushed cheeks.

“Kaedehara Kazuha.”

Kazuha snapped his eyes open, looking down at the gravel—the pain of the rocks pressed against his legs kneeling down. His eyes felt heavy, skin much sweeter than usual as a pure white kimono clung onto him uncomfortably. When he went to move his arms, the tight rope burned against his wrist as they stayed in place bound behind him.

He finally leaned his head up, observing his surroundings. Familiar faces of his comrades were sat around a courtyard, varying faces of disgust, disappointment and anger on their faces.

“...You will be executed for treason against the Shogun,” a woman called out, with a decree in her hands. There his name was, written in kanji, penned by the all-powerful Raiden Ei,

“Ah.. that was right,” Kazuha slowly whispered to himself. He buried himself in a dream to forget the nightmare that was his reality.

He remembered that day, as your bodies were still joined together, you gently clasped his face and pleaded that you needed to run away, to be with him and happy. Just as he pledged before, Kazuha happily complied, cleaning the two of you before packing a small rations and cash to get on the next boat leaving Liyue.

He thought, together, they could make it. He was skilled enough to fight off against ronin or his old comrades.

What he didn’t expect was the skilled power Daimyo Kunikuzushi had. Kazuha knew him to always have others do his dirty work. It only took a half a day for him to find you two with ten men at his side. The servants must have reported the pair or he arrived at your manor earlier than you thought—you weren’t sure how and why he was able to know where you two were headed.

Pinned down against six samurai, all Kazuha could do was reach out to your crying and screaming form, desperately reaching out for his hand. It was as if the world had slowed watching your form slowly disappear from his sight as he was rushed to be arrested.

He knew you would be physically alright, but you’d be put into a smaller cage and under a more watchful eye by the Daimyo.

Him, however…

Kazuha’s eyes drifted up, feeling the weight of a hateful gaze glare down at him. Kunikuzushi stood behind him, a katana by his side.

One man he knew to be Heizou, solemnly got up from his seated position, walking over and behind him, covering Kazuha’s eyes with a white cloth. Kazuha sensed Heizou left to return back to his position—the samurai’s eyes waiting in hesitant anticipation for his death.

Hearing a katana unsheathe from its hilt, the corners of Kazuha’s mouth lifted into a smile before closing his eyes. His mind conjured your image once more; how he wished he could see your smiling face one more time. He’d sadly have to leave you lonely for now.

“Do you have any last words,” Daimyo Kunikuzushi seethed out. Kazuha could feel the twisted smile on the daimyo’s face, relishing that he was about to die by his hand.

”I followed her to this life and I will follow her to the next.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha imagines #kazuha scenarios #tw yandere

[meiieiri]

STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]

❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento

warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence

a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-

༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO

winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.

suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.

“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?

“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.

“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.

when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.

“not as much as i like you, though.”

you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.

༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU

despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.

“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.

he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”

“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”

that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.

“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.

you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.

having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.

“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.

༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO

“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.

but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.

reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.

you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”

a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.

at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.

he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.

“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”

“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”

“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.

“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.

#⚘—eiwrites #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #geto fluff #nanami fluff #geto suguru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen

[mapleglasses27]

Formals over Casuals - KNJ x GN! Reader

Summary - Just a fluff with rainy weather and formally dressed Joon. TW - Nothing, really.

Rain pattered onto the textured concrete beneath your feet, as you held your leather jacket over your head to shield yourself from the weather. Your shoulders were dusted in little drops of water that managed to get through your makeshift umbrella, as you waited in front of a large, fancy building for your large, fancy boyfriend. 

Emphasis on the ‘Fancy’ part. 

Well, that was exactly how he was looking as he practically sprinted to you, disappointment evident as he got closer and realized the figure that he thought to be a black umbrella was really just your old leather jacket. 

Water had soaked through his blue, silk dress-shirt, and little droplets of water lay atop his blazer. His hair had stuck to his forehead, water running down the crevices of his face-

Ok, no. You were here to help your boyfriend unwind after a long and probably stressful conference meeting, not fawn over him like the several other million and more people did. 

As he neared you, he put his hand on your shoulder, bringing him closer to you. The wet state of your T-shirt became more obvious on the contrast of Namjoon’s deliciously warm arm, and you uttered some form of a greeting. 

“Rain’s a spoilsport, no?” He said in his naturally silky voice.

“I rather think it’s beautiful.” You replied, looking up at him. 

You pulled your old leather jacket over his head, and you were suddenly feeling thankful for the 2 inch shoes you had put on as you had left your house. Although they gave little boost to your height, anything would help against your 6’0’’ gentle giant. 

He looked at you, stunned. After all, besides Namjoon’s rather expensive blazer, there was nothing to shield the both of you from the ongoing rain besides your leather. And you had given him the better part of your jacket, the rate of your shirt becoming wet increasing. 

“What? Formals over casuals, right?” You said payfully, in response to his (adorable) surprised face. 

His features morphed into a gleeful smile, as he pulled out your car keys from your pocket, letting his left hand stay on the small of your back. 

You both got into the car, the leather jacket discarded in the backseat, as Namjoon indulged you in a slow, enjoyable kiss. Your hands ran through his hair, travelling back down to the nape of his neck, his delightfully soft and warm skin under your (probably frostbitten ) fingertips. 

“Your hands are cold, you know.” He said, breaking away. 

“Something tells me you don’t mind.” 

You both settled in your car seats, and you went about the general questions about his conference meeting, which lasted for the vast majority of your 40 minute car ride home. 

Right now, though, you and Namjoon were in a comfortable silence, your hands on the 

steering wheel, and his fingers tracing the raindrops through the window. 

“Do you love me?” Namjoon asked, his question breaking the silence. 

In the fraction of a heartbeat, you replied. 

“More than you could ever imagine.” 

You didn’t even need to steal a glance at your boyfriend to know that he was smiling. 

A.n - This is just a little drabble I came up with because where I live, we’re kinda descending into the rainy season and it looks so pretty. I also haven’t posted in a long time. 

503 Words, 

Skylight Maple. 

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon x gn! reader #namjoon x reader fluff #bts namjoon #bts x reader #x reader #sky light maple #bts x y/n #namjoon being fucking adorable

[fic-over-cannon]

Movie Magic

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: a cozy movie marathon date with jason todd

tags: fluff, kissing, minor reference to canonical character death

rated teen | wc: 1k

a/n: inspired by an ask from the lovely @orchidsangel

It’s a Saturday morning, and the weekend is stretching wide in front of you. It’s been a long week, so you and Jason have decided to do a movie marathon together instead of going out. The morning starts with breakfast, fresh fruit and real maple syrup drizzled over French toast. Dishes done side by side in the sink, winter sun coming in pale through the window. A few days earlier, when you’d done the grocery shopping, you’d picked up snacks specifically for this day. There’s popcorn and chips, pretzels and M&Ms, licorice and skittles. Each gets put out in their own bowls, ready to be eaten. Then would come building the blanket fort. Moving cushions and the duvet from the bed out into the living room, pulling bedsheets out of the linen closet. While Jason rolls an empty clothing rack out to hold up the blankets, you get the idea to take down some of your fairy lights and put them up in the fort, little pinpricks of light to stop Jason’s fear of small dark spaces from creeping in. It takes all of your decorative throw pillows you had insisted on and Jason had affectionately rolled his eyes at for you both to get comfortable. But it is comfortable, tucked up under Jason’s arm and swaddled in blankets, snack bowls tucked between your hip and the side of the couch.

Jason puts on the first movie, something you both loved as children. You laugh at the same moments, point out your favourite characters and scenes. His ribs knock into yours when he snorts, warm and solid beside you. Jason puts on the sequel, which you both agree is nowhere near as good as the first. Offhandedly you mention that at least the third was better since they brought back the scriptwriter from the first movie and Jason has to press pause. Turns to you jaw slightly open and asks if you’re serious, that there’s a third one, that they made more. The thing is, there was a third movie, only Jason wouldn’t have known. Resurrection and revenge doesn’t really leave a lot of time for catching up on pop culture. You wrap your arms around him tighter, navigate to the next movie and press play. For this one, the two of you are silent. Jason’s eyes are wide and attentive, lips parted in awe. You watch him as much as the movie, drink in his reactions eagerly and the way his arm tightens around your shoulder at the tense moments. The credits start to roll, and still Jason doesn’t say anything.

“So… what did you think?” You ask. He runs his fingers through his hair, looks you in the eye, and goes on one of the most impassioned rants you’ve ever heard him give, and you’ve heard him rant about everything they got wrong in the newest Sense and Sensibility adaptation. He barely stops to breathe between discussing the casting and how surprisingly good the stunts were. He talks himself hoarse until you pass him your soda. That manages to interrupt his flow of thought, and he apologizes sheepishly for getting too caught up in the movie. “S’okay, I like hearing you be passionate. What did you think of the cinematography?” and he’s off again, hands flying through the air as he tries to describe just what parts excited him the most.

It’s his stomach rumbling that interrupts him a second time, causing the two of you to laugh. Lunch gets eaten on the couch, plates carefully balanced on laps. You convince Jason to watch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and the look on his face when he gets torn between getting a version of his favourite book with added death jokes and wanting to point out how inaccurate a Regency society faced with the zombie apocalypse is, makes you have to constantly stifle giggles. You take turns after that, introducing each other to different movies as the pale sun slowly moves across the sky. Jason chooses a movie Damian made him watch, which despite the scary moments that have you burying your head in his shoulder, has some of the most beautifully shot scenes you’ve seen in a while. You get into a heated debate over Howl’s Moving Castle, eventually having to agree that book Sophie is more interesting but movie Howl is more dreamy. Jason has to dive for the popcorn bowl when you start yelling at the tv screen for the characters in the next movie to just talk to each other goddamn it! He indulges you when you rant about how most of the time the miscommunication trope is just lazy writing, that if the scriptwriters wanted to get the audience actually invested in the characters then they needed to stop making the climax something so easily fixable. You get so excited when something happens onscreen that you know a behind-the-scenes story about. Poking Jason in the side to make sure he’s listening before launching into an anecdote about how they’re actually only filming on horseback for the long shots, all of the closeups done on fake platforms to make filming easier. Or how the censorship rules of the time meant the director had to find a way for the characters to metaphorically kiss, and that’s why they’re always sharing cigarettes.

It’s beyond time for dinner, but full on snacks and treats, neither of you are feeling hungry yet. You’d introduced Jason to the magic of peanut M&Ms mixed into butter popcorn and you can tell that he’s going to be obsessed for the next while. The credits on the latest movie are rolling, there’s dishes to do and a couch to put back together, but all those things can wait. You look up from where you’re curled up beside him, cozy under the blanket and the weight of his arm, and he’s smiling down at you fondly. It doesn’t take much to stretch up and press your lips to his. He tastes like chocolate and salt and a long lazy afternoon. You can feel the edges of his lips turning up into a smile against yours.

“What was that for?” He murmurs.

“For listening to me ramble. And for introducing me to your favourite things.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #sunnie writes 🌻 #pictures from pinterest #dividers by benkeibear

[sweetsweetjellybean]

If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 1 | Empty Streets

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Inspired by As The World Burns

Special thanks to @myeuphoricmindset for her permission and encouragement. Please go check out her amazing fic.

TW: FemReader, Eventual Smut, Mentions of self-harm & death. No Minors 18+ Series Masterlist WC: 5807

Steve watches the tears run down the flushed swell of Nancy’s cheeks, her delicate fingers pressed to her lips. A sorrowful smile stretches his mouth, his soft hazel eyes meeting her sky blue. The last blue. The gaping maw of the rift stitching closed for good. Forever. With Steve on one side and the rest of them safe on the other. 

It was finally over and they had won. He decided long ago he couldn’t live if he lost one of them. So, in a split second decision, he gave his life to save them all. It had to be him. No complaints. 

The last glimpse of blue shrinks into a sliver of bright light resembling the waning moon, disappearing until darkness and the red glow of death are all that’s left. He places his hand on the seam of the solid black rock, bowing his head, whispering his last goodbye. 

He walks alone through the familiar decaying streets. The buildings crack and groan, pieces breaking off, turning to sand before they hit the ground. With Vecna dead, the Hawkins he created will be swallowed by the desert and the electrical storms until the world collapses in on itself and explodes in something akin to a supernova. 

He knew all this when he called for El to close the gate. When he pushed a resisting Dustin through into Robin’s arms. In the end, Nancy, the kids, they were all that mattered. He had to die to become the man they deserved. 

The man he always wanted to be. 

The ending of his story has been written–there's no more guessing before turning the page. Loneliness wraps its icy fingers around his shoulder, bringing the comfort of an old friend. He feels lighter now that he's shed the ties and obligations to those he loves. He's free to choose his own death and not without options. Armed and still carrying the backpack stuffed with preparations to survive the last battle, he can walk to Forest Hill, put a bullet in his brain, and fall next to his friend, forever sharing his grave, but he's not there yet. He'd rather go out fighting, and the monsters filling this place will be eager to accommodate.

The wind picks up, blowing the golden-brown strands away from his face as he watches red bolts of lighting scorch through the thick omnipresent fog blanketing the sky to strike the clock tower of the public library. The building stands tall and imposing, still intact in this realm, rotting and covered with ropey vines. A storm is coming. He’ll need shelter soon. Maybe the white and brick house on Maple street. He could crawl into her bed and close his eyes, pretending as he drifts off the sleep that it was a night he snuck through her window. With any luck, he’d never wake up. The ground trembles with the deafening booms of thunder, but as he walks away, it’s a quieter sound that catches his ears.

“Help me, please.”

“Careful,” Steve warns, steadying you with an arm around your waist before taking the binoculars out of your hands, letting them hang by the strap around your neck, “Stop walking if you’re going to use those or you’re going to end up catching your boot in a crack.” He motions to the gaps in the dry limestone bed of lovers lake.

“Where were you two weeks ago?” You ask with a wry smile, yanking down the handkerchief that covers your nose and mouth. “Maybe I’m too clumsy to be a geologist?”

“It’s okay to laugh, Steve,” you tell him when his tight-lipped expression doesn’t waver.

Fourteen days ago, he pulled you from a pile of debris through the raging winds into the windowless back room of a flower shop, where he helped you clear the sand from your eyes and stitched the gash in your leg. He sat on the floor across from you, back pressed against the mildewing floral wallpaper, the sweet putrid perfume of decaying carnations filling your nose with the scent reminiscent of a funeral while he explained where you were and why you wouldn’t be leaving. 

As an undergrad from Perdue sent to study the rift, you had been harnessed, hanging just inside the opening of the gate, taking samples when the earth quaked and your tether snapped. If it weren’t for Steve, you wouldn’t have survived the night and he’s protected you since. Taking out stray dogs and a few bats while scavenging for food and supplies. He assures you there are other things out there. Worse things. You’ve heard their screeches and howls between the thunder claps late into the frigid nights while you lay pressed against his warm back—safe. 

He’s the hero from the storybooks that you read as a little girl, trading the armor for a leather jacket and flak vest, but still just as tragic. A ghost moving through a fog. His sorrow blends him into the landscape, keeping you at arm’s length. If you had met before all of this. Bumped into him on the street or at a coffee shop, you still would have known that he was someone you could trust. 

He casts a skeptical eye your way but you don’t miss how the corner of his mouth rises just a little.  “I don’t like being out in the open like this.” His nose scrunches as his eyes roam the rolling gray clouds that keep the Upside Down in perpetual gloaming. 

“We need to find water. I can’t keep brushing my teeth with flat Sprite.” 

Gallons of sour milk and fermented juice fill the coolers at Bradley’s Big Buy, but the plastic containers of water all sit empty just like every river, well, and stream in this version of Hawkins. 

“How many more days are we going to waste on this?” He stands just behind you while you scan the lake bed, so close you feel the warmth of his breath in your hair. 

“You have somewhere else to be?” 

Entire sections of town have disappeared. Neighborhoods and buildings are falling into unstable fissures and there are fires burning in the east. It won’t be long now but you need this and so does he. Something to focus on.

“Everything in this place is damp. There are constant storms–”

“But no rain,” he counters.

“That we’ve seen. There are plants. There are animals. There’s water. Does it look like the land slopes downward over there?”You point to a spot where the trees are denser and closer to the lake bed. 

“I guess.” He squints in the direction of your finger until you hand him the binoculars that are still around your neck. He stoops and leans in close, pressing the glass to his eyes. “Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Then that’s where we need to go.” Taking back the glasses, you set out navigating the dry, cracked terrain. Picking your way through the vines and rocks.

As you walk along, Steve’s eyes stay fixed on a rowboat draped in the coiled, spiked tendrils. He swallows hard, face paling. The pained, haunted look marring his features has the dull ache of sympathy sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone. 

“Steve,” your voice stays gentle as your fingers slide against the rough skin of his palm, wrapping around his fingers. He flinches and jerks his hand away. 

“Sorry,” he says, like he’s suddenly realized you’re there. 

“Are you okay?”

“Fi-“ he clears his throat, “Fine.” He continues ahead of you, walking toward the woods.

"No. No way."

The short, wide, yawning mouth of the cave was tucked at the bend of a steep hill covered by browned moss and woody stalks of dead brush.

"Steve–"

"We're not going in. No shot. It could be full of bats. Without another exit we could get pinned down."

“Then you can wait here,” you say, ducking under the cave's entrance.

After a click, the beam of your flashlight cuts through the darkness and bounces off the glittering limestone that drips down the walls of the narrow passage like candle wax. The darkness presses in, your panting breaths echo as your courage starts to flee until you hear an annoyed “Goddammit” and the heavy fall of Steve’s boots as he comes in behind you. 

His eyes follow the beam of his light scanning the cave's high ceiling that’s crowded with sharp tipped stalactites before he wretches them to you, his expression turning wary. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I’m not worried.” Your hand wraps around his forearm sliding down the worn leather sleeve, stopping short of taking his hand, you give his wrist a light squeeze before releasing him.

“Are you always this tenacious?” 

“Always.” You cautiously start down the tunnel, watching for loose rocks and small formations, “It’s a character flaw. I’m an eternal optimist. Everything happens the way it’s supposed to.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs, looking away to study the walls.

After a curve, the passage widens and the rushing of water amplifies, up ahead a faint azure glow highlights a keyhole opening. Steve hands you his flashlight and reaches back grabbing the axe attached to the back of his pack. His hands adjust his grip on the handle as he holds it at the ready. With a silent tilt of his head, he motions you behind him as he pauses at the mouth of the chamber. Keeping the flashlights pointed low, you light his path.

“It’s a ledge. A big step down.” He calculates his movement before hopping down. He moves the axe to one hand reaching out for you with the other. Clicking off one of the flashlights you shove it in your jacket pocket before taking his hand, you try to gauge the distance like he had but your foot slips at the last moment. The clang of the axe hitting the stone floor reverberates through the cave when he drops it to catch you. 

“Maybe you are too clumsy,” he comments, both hands gripping your hips. Your hands slide from around his neck to his shoulders, staying pressed against him longer than necessary, your eyes locked with his - the gold flecks a contrast in the soft blue light. The spell breaks and he steps back, bending to retrieve his weapon.

“It’s…beautiful.”

You’ve stepped into a glittering cavern. Luminescent turquoise orbs with trailing silky threads cling to the jagged domed ceiling high above a steaming basin of crystal clear water. The underground world's best impression of the starry night sky. This might be as close as you get to seeing it again.

“I’m impressed,” his axe hangs at his side with one hand on his hip, “You were right.”

His praise has you beaming as you move to the craggy edge of the basin and shrug off your pack.

“Make it fast,” he peers through the steam into the water, “I don’t wanna be around when whatever lives here comes home.”

“I don’t think anything does.” Dropping to your knees, you unzip your pack pulling out the supplies you’ll need and lining them up, “There are no tracks or vines or anything. There aren’t even any spores floating in the air. Didn’t you say they don’t like the heat?”

A fine layer of steam swirls just above the surface of the water, dampening your skin and curling the fine hair at your temples when you reach over the rim to collect a water sample. Carefully, you pour a little into the four test tubes and place them in a rack adding a test strip to each one. 

“What about those things?” His finger extends to the neon lights above.

“If we were at home, I’d say glow worms.” You grip the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head and placing it on your pack. 

“Whatever they are, they don’t seem too bothered by us,” he muses, “What are you doing now?” He steps closer, peering over your shoulder as you lower the rope with your geological thermometer attached at the end into the water. 

“Measuring the depth and taking the temperature.” The water reflects the lights making it seem lit from below. It’s so clear you can see the metal tube of the thermometer hit the sandy bottom. Handing him the end of the rope you move back to your test tubes. Pulling out the strips, using your flashlight to compare them to the control printed in the kit. 

"It's safe to drink." A wave of relief washes over you. Clean water greatly increases your chances of survival. 

"Really? You're sure?" The surprise in his voice is clear. He didn't expect to get this far. 

"I mean..yeah," you sit back on your feet, rubbing your palms over the denim covering your thighs, "We can add some iodine to be sure, but tonight we'll have drinkable water."

Hand over hand, he pulls the line out from the water. He lets the shiny metal tube dangle for a moment. The water runs down edges dripping back into the basin before he gives it to you to interpret. 

"About four feet deep with a temp of 100 degrees. Perfect." Winding the wet string around the thermometer, you place it back in your kit and repack the rest of your supplies, leaving out your empty canteen.

"Perfect for what?" His brows draw in at the middle as he watches you loosen the laces of your boots.

"What do you think?" You pull off one boot and then the other, removing your stripey socks and then stuffing them inside. 

"You're not getting in there," he scoffs, hands moving to his hips.

"Steve," you sigh, standing and unbuttoning your pants and lowering the zipper, "I'm absolutely going in there." The denim material is heavy and damp from the humidity, sticking to your skin as you peel the jeans down your legs trying your best to not let them drag on the dirt covering the cavern's floor. "It’s been two weeks since I've showered. I stink and so do you."

"This is stupid." His head shakes and he looks upwards, eyes roaming the jagged rock walls as you slip your shirt over your head. 

"It's a necessity. Besides, hot springs are supposed to be really good for you." Your fingers work the clasp of your bra and it slips down your arms. His gaze returns as you drop the lacey garment onto the growing pile of your clothing. Now you have his full attention. Even in the dim light, it's clear his eyes darken.

Ignoring the way your heart beats wildly, your thumbs hook under the silk of your panties and they slide down your hips, "There's not much point in being shy." 

With false bravado you face him naked and vulnerable, letting his eyes drink you in, "We have to take care of each other, right?"

The torrent of water is louder in the absence of his answer as it cascades through an opening in the wall feeding the basin. Holding his stare, you walk along the water's edge until you find a spot where the limestone dips and becomes smoother creating a natural point of entry. 

"Be careful." He moves closer watching you step in. 

A moan slips from your lips as you sink down letting the heat loosen the tension in your muscles, enjoying the slight sting while your skin acclimates to the temperature. Pinching your nose with your thumb and forefinger, you dip your head below the surface into the quiet depths.

He's crouching at the basin's rim letting his fingers trail through the water when you emerge, slicking back your hair, wiping away the drips clinging to your eyelashes. His lips part and you know what he's seeing, the astral light reflecting in the rivulets running down your throat, over your breasts joining the sheen covering your skin.

"Are you coming in?" 

He pulls his hand from the water, fingers flicking away the wetness and you can practically see the gears turning in his head while deciding if it’s okay to allow himself this simple pleasure.

“It’s safe, Steve. You can live a little,” you say with your sweetest smile, bending your knees so you're submerged up to your neck, watching the cracks in his resolve widen.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” He asks with a heavy sigh, unsheathing the knife that he carries on his belt and placing it on a smooth rock at the edge of the pool. 

“I’m the one who has to smell you.” Taking a few steps backward to where the basin deepens enough that you can tread water without being over your head. 

His Baretta joins his knife before his fingers loosen the laces of his boots. He stands shrugging off his heavy jacket and vest letting them hit the ground with a thwack that echoes through the cave before pulling his dark gray thermal over his head adding it to the pile. Your arms glide beneath the water while your eyes travel the path from the dips in his collar bone over the expanse of his broad chest that tapers into narrow hips. 

“Ahem,” he clears his throat as he works his belt loose and you don’t feel the slightest bit of shame that he's caught you ogling. The way the corner of his mouth lifts tells you he doesn’t mind either. 

“You wanna turn around?” He asks, thumbs popping the button on his cargo pants before he moves on to the zipper.

“Nope. I’m good.”

His eyes roll before he lowers his pants and boxers, holding them in front of himself until he catches your gaze and tosses them aside. Your lips part as you suck in a much needed breath. His half aroused cock stands out from his body. Long and thick, the pink veiny shaft and perfectly shaped head bobs, swelling further under your scrutiny. He walks toward the shallow end, and you catch the full smirk twisting his lips.

“Now you can smile.” You splash him as he steps into the water shrugging, his grin continuing to broaden.

His eyes flutter closed as more of his body disappears into the steaming pool, gentle waves lapping at his torso, then shoulders, then neck. A low grown rumbles from his throat just before his head slips under completely. He resurfaces in front of you, muscles of his arms tightening as he pushes the hair from his face.

"Fuuck," his mouth remains parted as he draws out the vowel, a water drop clinging to his plush bottom lip, "This feels good."

It's hard to take your eyes off him in this light. Heat floods your belly, but it’s not the water, you want to be what’s making him feel good. He’s already given away his heart, you're certain, but she’s not here and you are.

"It's nice to be warm. It's so cold here." You drift closer, breathing in the heated air. 

"You're cold?" He asks, brows knitting together.

"Sometimes…mostly at night." A pang of guilt has you wishing you hadn’t mentioned it. The last thing you want is to cause him any more worry. "Are these new?" You reach out, fingers ghosting over purple black bruises on his shoulder and chest. 

His head bows looking at the spot you just caressed, "Maybe. I can't keep track." He straightens to his full height, chest rising above the surface, water running through the thick patch of chest hair revealing several more bruises in various stages of healing. 

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard before continuing, fingers dancing over the freckles on his skin, "I know you're doing this–"

He coughs and sinks back into the water, patting his chest, "I think the steam is loosening up some of that shit we've been breathing in."

His head tips back and you follow suit watching the tiny glowing creatures attached to the rocky dome, their silvery tails gently swaying like they’re blowing in a breeze. There's beauty in their simple existence. Head dropping back down, you catch his stare, he’s closer now, and the way he looks at you sends all your thoughts fleeing. 

"It's nice here. Quiet," his arms sweep in arcs just below the surface, hands brushing against yours when they meet in the narrow space between you, "I can almost pretend I’m somewhere else."

"Yeah?" Floating closer, you look up at him from under wet lashes. There’s something in his eyes, a fire, making the gold flecks look molten. The gap between you narrows, his chest brushes your nipples. But it’s gone as quickly as it came. He moves away, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

“Do you do a lot of skinny dipping?” You ask, trying to draw him back in, craving the connection. He peers at you unsure if he should answer.

“Come on, Steve. Tell me your secrets.” Biting your lip to hide the mischief in your smile, you draw a cross over your heart, "I promise not to tell."

He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I guess I’ve done my fair share. There was a girl-“

“There always is.”

“Are you going to let me tell you?” With a swift move of his hand, he sends a splash of water in your direction.

“Please, continue,” you giggle with a wave of your hand, licking the water off your lips.

“She and I would sneak out late at night. Meet at the lake to be together." He looks away as he tells you, lost in the memory.

"Midnight Love. Sounds romantic." 

“I don’t think she would agree,” his eyes roam the stoney walls where glowing lights fade in and out, “She wanted more and I couldn’t give it to her. There was someone else.” He meets your eyes, wanting you to understand his contrition, “I should have been honest with her. Let her move on. I know better now. I’m all done breaking hearts.”

“Will you be honest with me?” It doesn’t matter what he's done. He’s shown you who he is, and that man is one that you believe in.

“Yes.” The word is heavy on his lips, the look in his eyes confirming his promise. “I can give that to you.”

Nodding your head in acceptance, you feel the shift, bared to each other, the wall between you falls to pieces like the replica of the town that surrounds you. It gives you the courage to ask what you really want to know, “What about the girl you’re in love with, the one that’s up there waiting for you with tears in her eyes? Don’t you think her heart is broken?”

“How did–"

Shrugging, you wait for him to continue.

“We weren’t together,” he confesses, “Turns out I couldn’t give her what she needed either.”

“That’s why you're here? Because you weren't enough for her? Your friends, don’t you think they need you?”

“It's not about her. It's about all of them,” he explains, his voice thick with pain. “Before all this, all the things I thought were important were just bullshit. They held up a mirror in front of me. It made me change directions, made me try to be better. But I moved too slowly and when they really needed me, I couldn't protect them. You know how you said everything happens for a reason?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is it. This is my reason. I had to make sure they’re safe. They can all grow up and do whatever it is that they are supposed to do, be whoever they are supposed to be. Staying behind. Letting them go,” he lays a hand over his heart, “That’s how I became who I was supposed to be and I could finally give that to them.”

“Steve…” You want to scream at him that he’s wrong. He had to be enough for them because he was already everything to you. But it would rob him of the meaning in his death, so you stay silent and let the unspoken words sink beneath the water.

“Okay, it’s your turn. You owe me a secret,” his tone turns light, and he claps his hands together, rubbing them back and forth, “Make it a good one.”

“Let’s see,” you squint up at the ceiling, “I started sneaking my mom’s cigarettes junior year and blamed it on my sister.”

“Come on, you can do better than that. I bet a pretty girl like you has left behind a trail of broken hearts. I want the good stuff.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask, tipping your head onto your shoulder with a grin.

“You know you are,” his eyes roll, “Don’t try to get out of it.”

“Fine,” you pout, flicking water in his direction, “I don’t think I broke any hearts. Maybe bent a few. My friends are always losing their heads over some guy. Acting crazy. All in the name of love. I always wanted that, you know? To get swept away in some sort of fairytale romance. It just never happened for me. I thought there would be more time. I thought…"

You’ve been looking at life through a wall of rose-colored glass, sweetening your view just enough to avoid reality. Saying the words out loud, admitting it yourself–to him, you’ve crashed straight into it, the broken shards cutting you with the truth.

“We’re not going to make it home, are we?”

“Do you still want the truth?” He asks, knowing you already know the answer.

"I had a list," you swallow hard, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. "I thought if we could find water, we could check that off and solve the next problem and the next. Then we'd somehow figure out a way back. You told me from the beginning but I was too stupid–"

"Hey, you're not stupid." He moves a hand to your cheek, brushing away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "It's not stupid to have hope."

"But it doesn't matter." Your hand covers his, indulging in his touch a moment longer before pushing it away. 

“That’s where you're wrong. It doesn’t change anything, but it matters.”

“I’m starting to feel tired. Would you mind if we leave?” Brushing past, you climb out onto the ledge. The water cascading off your body darkens the limestone floor. Your back stays turned away from him while you yank your underwear on over damp legs. The splashing sounds let you know that he is following suit. Your jeans are difficult to shimmy over your hips without drying off and you skip the bra entirely, leaving your shirt to absorb the water. Once you leave the warmth of the cave, you'll be freezing–you should have listened to Steve.

Another bad decision made with good intentions. The list of I’ll Nevers unfurls in front of you covering the path where your future should be. He had figured it out much sooner than you did. Everything you worked for and planned for was all just bullshit. Maybe if you had someone to hold up a mirror, your list would be shorter. 

The cave seems smaller, the walls press in as you finish getting dressed and gathering your gear. Space will give you perspective, although you still dread seeing that terrible red sky.

"Are you‐"

Your breath leaves through your parted lips when his hand tugs your hip, turning you, pulling you flush against his chest. He looks down at you, eyes burning, wet hair plastered to the nape of neck drips water down the column of his throat soaking his thermal. The plush curve of his lips so close to your own. 

"You're not supposed to be here," he growls as his grip tightens. "I wish you weren't. I wish you had never met me. I wish..."

The tears spill over your lash line and streak down your cheeks, you can taste their saltiness on your lips. His head dips toward you and your eyes flutter closed, holding your breath while you wait to feel the pressure of his lips. Longing and despair give way to a fear that he'll give you what you want because he grieves with you, and that will never be enough to stop the ache. But his kiss never comes. His touch lingers on your skin once he's let you go and you stand there with your eyes still shut as you listen to him walk away. 

By the time you make it out of the cave, the scarlet sky has dimmed to a deep crimson, and Steve decides it’s best to stick to the cover of the trees and spend the night in one of the cabins nestled on the shore among the forest of dead wood, instead of crossing back over the dry lake bed. Mercifully, the rolling storm clouds are gathering west of here, across town, leaving the woods quiet beside the dry leaves crunching underfoot. Your silence is an itch under his skin. He wants to apologize, but he’s not exactly sure what for. He meant the things he said, but he hadn’t intended it to sound so harsh. The light in your eyes has been the only thing pulling him back from the darkness of his own thoughts, but he can’t keep pretending. He’s accepted that this was how his story ends, but the way you look at him tempts him into believing there could be another chapter. 

A war rages inside him, confusion over when protecting you became something more. Something that feels like he’s betraying her, even though she’s a world away. The truth is, he wants you. Your endless hope, the smiles you dole out like they cost you nothing, like you don’t realize that they have become as necessary to him as the air he’s breathing. Every day, the feeling of you belonging to him grows, but it’s all mixed up with pain and resentment. He was to meet death with a calm embrace, but fate decided that peace was more than he deserved. Now he’ll fight with his last ounce of strength to give you one more breath, and part of him blames you for that. He wants inside you, to claim you as his, but he can’t accept your comfort without making the pain at the end worse for both of you.

These thoughts and questions, you, Nancy, are different currents clashing in a riptide, and he’s trying his best to keep his head above water. As the mist thins, a tiny cottage comes into view, partially hidden by the brush and the gloom. The flaking white paint and curling black shingles are tinged green with mold. With a lone vine, dry and dead, snaking down from the roof across the weathered door. He reaches out, wrapping a hand around your wrist, conveying with a look that you should wait here for him to clear the inside. Walking up the three stone steps, he unsheathes his knife to cut away the vine. It takes a few firm pushes from his shoulder to get the warped door to budge from its frame. The musty air hits his nose as soon as it swings open. This place has been closed up tight. Steve moves quickly through the small space, checking for any signs of creatures, but it’s untouched aside from a few dead vines wrapped around the exposed beams of the ceiling.

When he returns, you’re standing with your arms crossed over your chest, but the look written across your delicate features has changed to anger. His brows pull together, and his lips part to speak, but you beat him to it.

“I don’t wish that.”

“What?” He asks, confused.

“That I never met you. I don’t wish that,” you move closer until your toe to toe with him. “I’m here for a reason. My life has a purpose too,” you say, laying a hand over your heart, anger and sadness making your voice crack. “If you think you’re supposed to die for them. Then I’m here to make sure you aren’t alone.”

The way his mouth gapes in surprise only fuels your resolve.

“You’re not supposed to be alone.” You turn away and walk inside. He follows, shutting the door behind you.

A chill seeps through the damp mattress and the thick stack of crochet blankets piled on top. Despite being fully clothed, the cold works its way through the layers of material straight through to his skin. He’s lying on his side, staring at the closed door of the bedroom, replaying the words you said over and over. He can feel you behind him. Tiny pockets of heat wherever you connect, your forehead pressed to his back, hands tucked between you, the material of his sweatshirt balled in your fist. He’s still not sure what he should have said. The rest of the evening was spent without discussion. In his head, every sentence he forms is chased away with the image of you standing in the cave with your eyes closed, ready to be kissed. His instinct is to act first and think later, but this time the consequence is your heart, and he’s never been more unsure.

“Did you hear about the drunk geologist?” 

“What?” It takes a second for your words to break through his thoughts.

“He finally hit rock bottom,” you deadpan, your breath warming his back. “Do you know what kind of fruit geologists eat?”

His mouth quirks. Somehow you know just what he needs. 

“Pome-granite.”

He rolls over to face you. Your eyes gleam in the darkness, lashes fluttering, your lips stretched into a smile, you’re so beautiful, and it makes him feel lightheaded.

“You know you have to be patient with us geologists…we all have our faults.”

“God, these are so bad,” he says, his hand landing on your hip, his thumb finding its way under the edge of your sweatshirt to draw circles on your skin. 

“I have more.” Your hands smooth up the front of his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt, eyes locking with his, and he can see it again, the hope. It’s a beacon in a fog guiding him home. 

“Of quartz, you do.”

Your giggles make his smile bigger until he can feel it in the apples of his cheeks. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s felt like this–you make him happy.

“Let me warm you up,” he says when your laughter subsides. His hands smooth over your shoulders until they’re wrapped around your back, pulling you closer, not stopping until your forehead is against his lips and there is no space left between you. Sighing softly, you push a leg between his, until you fit together like puzzle pieces. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, but as your warmth fills all the cold places inside him, he knows he should be thanking you.

AN: Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you think? Are these two going to make it? Did you spot the easter egg from our friend @loveshotzz? I'll give you hint this ties in to one of her fics. Do me a soild and reblog if you liked it. 💋 -Jelly

Part 2 Here

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington x fem #stranger things fanfiction #if tomorrow never comes

[sakkiichi]

AUGUST.

Glimpses of the departed month go by as you reminisce by the sea.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

I honestly don’t know how to feel about this piece… definitely not my best work, but I wrote it, so I’m posting it. I hope someone still likes it.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Blue.

Said alone, the word might have had a tendency for melancholy, cold, turbulence.

However, if anyone were to ask you right now, you’d deny every negative connotation the color might have ever been related to.

Because to you, blue was dusks by the sea; moments right after the last coppery rays had hidden behind the expanse of an ocean you could only wish to unveil all secrets of.

And perhaps, you liked this moment of day because the infinity of blue before you mirrored the feelings in your heart at ease.

Feelings of unbridled affection, boundless love.

For him.

Fair hair falls over his shoulders, like silk weaved out of stars, its tips illusory rose with the fading daylight. His eyes are closed against the marine breeze, flecks of moondust clinging to his lids, casting enchanting shadows over his cheeks. His shirt has been discarded, droplets sliding down his bare torso, as if he had bathed in a pool of starlight. A black leather cord rests against his tempting collarbones, a vibrant scarlet maple leaf charm dangling tantalizingly over his chest.

A dreamy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the sounds of foamy waves lapping at the white sand.

Kazuha.

He was always nothing short of ethereal, but something about him in the dimming light of a late summer’s nightfall, felt inherently magical.

“I’m going to miss this, Kazuha.” You finally say, resting your chin on your boyfriend’s shoulder.

He gently leaves a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding yours over the towel you’re sitting on. Scars jut like jagged rocks against which waves break, in the same way lightning snuffed out a life dear to him all that time ago.

And yet, the smile on his lips is almost palpable when he says:

“We’ll be able to come back, my dove.” His thumb runs soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Before we realize, summer will greet us again.”

You chuckle. Kazuha had such a poetic way of approaching things; even when the sun went pitch black, he would forever remain a beacon of hope to you.

“I know, I know…” You clarify. “It’s just… I wish I had more free time to spend with you like this during the year…”

As much as autumn brought found memories and your beloved’s birthday, September always had a tendency to leave you yearning for the long days of summer.

Echoes of August replayed behind your eyelids every time you closed them, reminiscent of stolen instances held in the brief minutes in which the sky was dyed in shades of neither day or night.

Those eyes that held the suns of a million dawns focus on you. Starlight from constellations that will sleep soon seem to frame them, those long lashes fluttering in tune with your heart.

“I know, my angel…” Your lover utters, as he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d like to stay with you like this, for all eternity…” His stare of gentle embers takes you in.

His muse, his perfect love, his forever.

The samurai’s free hand reaches to cup your cheek, his touch, a dove’s first flight in its tenderness.

Beneath the darkening skies, you were the brightest star. Every lash, every pore and freckle, the everglow that fueled his verses.

“But we’ll always have the weekends,” He reassures, those fingers that penned the most romantic eulogies tracing your jawline, the column of your neck, your exposed collarbones.

Dilated pupils stare at his lips, images of kisses coated in ice cream and cocktails flashing through your dazed mind.

“And every summer after that.” The poet adds, noses mere millimeters away now, separated only by salt air and dying sunlight’s rust.

“Every summer.” You repeat.

Then, the magnetic force of both your desire-ridden lips reigns over, his kiss, an intoxicating collision.

Your hands lock behind Kazuha’s neck, pulling him closer. The droplets of sea water on him feel cool, flecks of stardust tattooing your skin in every place your bodies touch.

The wandering samurai’s lips are an expanding sunrise, and you, the tsunami that desperately reaches for his light-tinted heavens.

One of his hands sets on the soft sand, keeping him upright, while his scarred one tenderly cups your cheek. Your lean against him is soothing, healing, clear August skies, birdsong written in between retreating clouds.

Behind the undulating horizon, gold dyes silver.

Constellations begin to waltz far above, the lovers by the sea, their directing lyrics.

It’s a symphony about a season that will never die, its score inscribed in indelible blue ink in the heat of yours and Kazuha’s fervent kisses.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x you #kazuha x reader fluff #kazuha fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact fanfics #kazuha imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin x reader fluff #kazuha scenarios #genshin fluff #genshin impact oneshots #kazuha fanfic #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha genshin x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact

[genjv4rse]

𖥻 THINGS — enhypen ◌ ִ ۫ ּ

syn ; things enha reminds me of !

heeseung !

dangly earrings, pendent chains, skinny ripped jeans, rock guitar, clubbing, late studio night, concerts, rainy empty street, love songs, specs, ice cream, deers, rainforest, going over the speed limit, long drive, polaroids, balcony, tattoos, collage campus, basketball, getting into fist fights, breaking rules, warm breeze, kisses, sharing earphones, untied shoelaces, sleeveless tops, cross jewelries, chase atlantic songs

jay !

red wine, ball dance, guitar, empty kitchen, champagne bubbles, tuxedo suits, runaway, black cat, fashion magazines, gold jewelries, camping, eucalyptus, biking, biker jackets, street racing, late night walks, city lights, porsche, cologne, the weeknd songs, loose tie, fancy restaurant, chanel bags, iced americano, home, long hugs, words of affirmation, eye contact, autumn, posh music, v necks, opera, musical recital, marriage, ancient churches

jake !

pancakes, golden retrievers, empty parks, cardigans, picnic, wolf pups, landscapes, abstract art, lip piercings, makeout sessions, mornings, cream, sheets, swimming, sand castles, tree houses, venus, varsity player, rings, clashing waves, sun shinning through curtains, backyard, champagne, sparkly eyes, netflix and chill, forehead kisses, caramel fudge, winter, jb songs, garden, lilies, lipstick stains

sunghoon !

sculptures, greek mythology, snow, ice skating, pointe shoes, swan lake, ice rinks, rhinestones, vampires, sharp canines, royalty, huskies, novels, cruise, 90s songs, ear muffs, moon phase, poetry, dandelions, maple leaves, vanilla shake, pearls, penguins, blush, lucid dreams, confessions, lullaby, archangels, romance movies, boyfriend coats, monsoon, hair blowing because of the wind, moles, tears, old love, unrequited love, ribbons, weddings

sunoo !

sun, tulip field, solar system, marshmallows, tteobokki, street food, shopping, karaoke, smiles, cute stationeries, stickers, secret diary, cheek kisses, mufflers, red foxes, bratz doll, playdate, selfies, carnations, easter, boba tea, bestfriends to lovers, cherry blossoms, lip gloss, skincare, disney shows, late night face timing, gossiping, watching kdramas, sanrio stuffs, blowing bubbles, photo booths, texts, horizon

jungwon !

kittens, valleys, teenage dream, gold fish, aquariums, subways, cds, headphones, empty bus rides, babybreaths, holding hands, first love, taylor swift songs, messy hair, vacation, countryside, group study, constellations, piggyback ride, dimples, converse, empty classroom, sheep cubs, indoor plants, mini cactus, namsan tower, han river, late fall, vintage hand written letters , young love, romcom, kitties

ni-ki !

graffiti, sunsets, baggy pants, late night dance jam, empty beach, bicycling, sea shore, ear piercings, watermelon, summer, slow dancing, grass field, bungeoppangs, duck chicks, disneyland, ps5, arcade, puma cubs, eskimo kisses, bracelets, youth, climbing fences, skipping school, skateboarding, mangas, school festivals, footsies, cute band aids, oversized attires, j-rock, night sky, laughters, slice of life, teenage, playfulness, photo booths, anime, shoujo manga

© aenfilmz / 02072023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt @enhawhoreist

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen moodboard #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #engene #enhypen niki #enhypen headcanons #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #sunghoon #heeseung #sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen fic #enha #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blog #enhypen icons #yang jungwon #park sunghoon #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #kim sunoo #lee heeseung