#But nothing beats a physical book in your hand

[starlight-library]

Impromptu dates | LN4

pairing: lando norris x sick!bookworm!reader

summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

warnings: none!

fc: none!

wc: 859

Most people hated being sick.

It’s understandable that people hated being sick. They don’t feel. They feel gross. They feel off. The list goes on and on on why people hated being sick. Especially people who are more independent and hate the idea of someone else taking care of them. Which you understood as it hit a bit too close to home.

Which is why as someone fiercely independent as you are, people never understood why you enjoy being sick. 

You could never find the words to explain it when people ask you on the spot. You try and try yet you’re never happy with your answer and people never quite believed you which was fair but you didn’t care. You enjoyed it when you were sick. 

Not violently ill, which you emphasize. You did not enjoy running a super high fever, or running to the bathroom, or having your head constantly over a toilet vomiting up basically nothing. That was not fun. You enjoy the kind of sickness where you can’t go out into the world for a day or two. Maybe a low grade fever that’ll pass or a quick stomach bug that’s out of your system fast but you still take the precaution and stay indoors. 

Why?

Well that’s because it means you can stay under the covers after a shower with your kindle in its little tablet holder. Page turner remote in hand while having your water and drink of choice (mostly iced coffee), and some white noise as background noise. It was truly perfection for you.

Yet it was Lando’s hell.

Lando, your boyfriend, hated when you were sick. It meant no cuddles. No hugs. No kisses. Any physical contact was on halt and it was already torture given his schedule so the rare time he did get to see you in person and you were sick? He was miserable. Sure, you two video called but it just made him more sad that he wasn’t there to take care of you even if you swore that you didn’t need someone to take care of you. He refused to believe it so he would send you meals and medicine. He refused to let you pay him back so you’ve learned to accept it without the guilt weighing on your shoulders. It was a nice agreement you two had silently made and nothing really could beat this.

Until now.

There was a month break in between Singapore and Austin and Lando was going to soak up every second he could get and it was fine till somehow you caught a stomach bug. Lando refused to leave which also meant he caught the stomach bug.

You’re happily half laying/half sitting next to Lando against some pillows under a weighted heated blanket. You have one of his sweatshirts on while sipping your iced coffee and looking at your kindle while Lando tosses and turns next to you. You tried offering him medicine or some crackers and soup but he’s turned all the options down but now it seems he’s settled down. You look over and are greeted with the same green-blue eyes you’ve grown to pick out of the crowd in a moment. You see the curls sticking to his forehead and gently you push some out of the way and smile. “Hey.”

“How are you drinking iced coffee right now?” The Brit asks.

You shrug before smiling, “I don’t know. Guess I feel better after cleaning my stomach out and taking some medicine unlike someone.” Poking his forehead, you giggle while he huffs slightly and moves his head away. You hear Lando grumble something about the medicine tasting bad and you roll your eyes. “You’re such a big baby.”

Lando pouts slightly grumbling he is not a big baby before you return to your book. You look back hearing a huff and raise a brow. “Yes?”

“How do you just lay here and read and do nothing? I’m so bored yet too tired to get up.”

You shrug, “I just get really engrossed in my books sometimes I forget to even eat or pee.”

“You what!?” Lando sits up a bit in surprise before laying down and whining at his upset stomach.

“Oh come here.” You start.

You shift and sit up a bit more and reach over and rearrange your nightstand. You move your drinks further back along with your tablet holder before grabbing your TV remote and turning the TV on. You watch Lando lay there for a moment before shifting closer. He tosses and turns before slowly he settles on his stomach letting a soft sigh of relief out. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the Brit nuzzles his face into your stomach before settling down and looking at the TV. Lando flips through some apps and television options before settling on ‘The Hangover’.

Settling back down against the pillows you run your fingers gently through his hair while you go back to your book, the movie becoming background noise for you. This is how you two spend the evening and it’s the best impromptu date and now becomes your go to date.

[ritzy-biscuit]

One of the regrets I have is not getting the art book for American McGee's's Alice Madness Returns.

I remember seeing it for $30 when it was released and I kept putting off on buying it until eventually I forgot about it with everything I had going on at the time.

Nowadays it's going for $120 to close to $300 (last I checked) 😭

That's why now if I'm interested in an art book I just buy it. Lol!

Just pre-ordered the art book for "Across the Spider-Verse" on amazon. Currently on pre-order sale for like $25 originally 40 bucks. So if anyone loves the art of the film and you like art books now's your chance to get it on discount.

[madschiavelique]

Could I request dating headcanons for astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, and wyll with gn s/o please?

hey there anon !! i loved writing those i am soft for them all urgh

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, wyll

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : lots of fluff, bits of teasing but nothing too explicit, tiny bit of yandere!kar'niss, gender neutral reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2,6k (~ 300 words per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ astarion : 

Dating astarion means trying to chat with someone, and having him in the background doing some theatrical faces to mock how absolutely annoying and ridiculous the guy talking to you is. You’re trying to stay serious and pretend you’re concentrating on what he is saying when your boyfriend in the background keeps mimicking the most hilarious things that are sure to make you crack at any moment.

At the end of the conversation, when you join him, you give him a playful pinch in his sides as you laugh together just before he holds up to his head level the guy’s pouch, cackling to your rounded eyes “My love’s time is money from others, and the greatest treasure for me.”

You and him would sneak into some fancy couturier’s place, trying on robes and suits that would cost you way too many discussions with boring men to get astarion to steal their coins. You’d steal some to your liking and infiltrate some chic soirée where everyone smells like they bathed in perfume, where the old aristocrats speak like they have hot potatoes in their mouth, and where you have huge buffets ready for both of your stomachs to welcome.

You’d dance, drink champagne, stuff your mouth with soft creamy cakes, astarion licking the excess off your fingers as he takes your hand to bring you both on a balcony outside and kisses you under the moon like nothing has satisfied his hunger quite like your lips.

But you’d have softer moments, away from stealing and debauchery, just the two of you. You laying in bed, astarion resting his head on top of your heart, listening to its soft and regular beat.

You caressed his hair, your fingertips combing through his curls and brushing against his pointed ears from time to time. It made him shiver and hum, his thumbs on both of your sides tracing circular motions on your skin.

You both loved moments like these, where he could just relax in the arms of someone he loves and trusts, listening to the sound of life he had been deprived of softly beating in your chest.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gale : 

Dating Gale means lots of book reading sessions. It would just be the both of you, sitting on a couch at home, your legs on his lap as he caresses your thighs softly, not removing his hand the slightest as a mage hand flips the next page for him.

After those sessions, you both would talk about your thoughts on your current readings, and it makes your heart soften every time you see the way he looks at you when you speak about something that lights your heart up.

It also means spending some afternoons and nights learning more about the weave, and having Gale as your teacher on the matter. He’d always have your back against his chest, guiding your hands to form the specific shapes they need to make to cast a spell.

He’d keep being a distraction to you, kissing your ear, your neck, your temple, letting his hands linger on your waist… and you missed your spell once more. Pity, guess you’ll have to try again while he keeps tormenting you so that this moment you both share lasts longer.

No matter what you are doing, Gale has to have some sort of physical contact with you. Has to take your hand while you’re both walking, has to have his hand on your waist, to sit next to you and have both your knees touch.

It feels like the air around is compelling, and although the charm spell is no secret to him, he knows that it will never equal the kind of electricity you make him feel.

When either of you is away for any reason, he will find a way to make sure he has a piece of you to keep for himself, like a present of yours or anything he can keep near his hands or body at all times so that he can feel you are with him no matter what.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ halsin : 

Dating Halsin means lots of dates hidden in corners of nature you felt only your imagination could make up. He’d walk you through a cave of shining crystals to bring you to this small beach with a willow tree. He'd have a basket ready, full of goods and snacks and your favourite food for a picnic in the peacefulness of nature, by your side.

Naturally you would both end up with your trousers rolled up as you looked at the fishes in the water, the algaes that rippled like emerald hair, and splashed each other until you both ended up falling and laughing at how drenched you were.

It also means calm evenings in the grove, peacefully helping around with the latest crops and going around to feed the different animals staying here. You’d read some stories to count the kids at night with your fingers still purple from picking grapes while leaning on Halsin in his bear form, taking a nap.

And when the sunsets would come, he’d watch you dance around the campfire with the druids as he carves a small wooden figurine of your silhouette. After the party, he would pick you up in his arms and carry you in bride style to your place.

He’d take the time to clean your feet from the dirt you’d danced on barefoot, would remove one by one the leaves stuck in your hair or clothes, and kiss your cheeks still warm from the dancing.

He never fails to open up to you, to tell you about his past, about his guilts, and you never judge him, only accept him. They say that to keep a couple up you have to look after it everyday, these idiots don’t know anything about love.

As if he had to make efforts to listen to you, as if he had ever doubted. He'd love your flaws if he managed to find any. You had been patient, so patient with him, accepting and loving and everything he could’ve ever wished for.

You make him hope again, remind him by your sole presence that there are things worth fighting for in this world, and he makes sure to remind you of how important you are for him through his words and acts.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ kar'niss : 

Finding someone whom kar’niss had more devotion for than his Goddess was no easy task, but your sole presence was the proof that there are exceptions to rules.

Thus, if you are his revered deity in his eyes and heart, he has to bring you offerings to your altar. Kar’niss brings you all sorts of gifts, from hidden crystals in unreachable crevices to flowers with unique fragrances, he covers you with gifts and anything that makes him think of you.

You can expect one thing from dating him, and it is that you cannot get out of his grasp ! He’s got 12 arms if you count his spider part and the two human ones, so you can be sure he’s going to have at least one of them around you.

Kar’niss isn’t used to getting touched but craves it with his every breath; so every time you cup his face, or place a strand of his white hair behind his ear, or simply take his hand in yours, his seven dark eyes widen in surprise.

Anybody or any things that dare touch you infuriates him. How could they think themselves worthy of your touch ? of your attention ? They’d get punishment from it, and he’d be sure to be the one inflicting that sentence.

You’d trace the scars of his face, telling him how handsome he is as something within him rumbles with a high purr. His dark grey-ish purple chitin is lukewarm to your touch when your hand sets on his shoulder.

He has been abandoned one too many times already, and he fears that for whatever reason, he could lose you as well. Whenever you take him in your arms, he holds you so close to him like it might be your last embrace. You hum a soft song as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, your hands softly caressing his back as you assure him you won’t leave.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael : 

Dating one of the most important devils in all Faerun might seem like an intimidating situation, but really, it was somehow truly liberating. Your relationship was no contract, nor did it derive from some spell either of you had cast upon another. It was… unworldly.

There was something about you that made Raphael untense by the second you were in the same room as him. He’d ask for you to be of company whenever he had reports to fill, contracts to prepare, and any other tasks that asked of his brows to pinch one another until you kissed his forehead and make all annoyance go away.

He’d bring you as much as he could to whatever meetup or reception he was needed to, but would never risk your life by bringing you anywhere that could be dangerous for you. One could say that you had become his weakness, his soft spot that made you the lever to pull on if anyone was after him.

You’d been kidnapped several times already by some that thought they’d manage to defeat the devil, but when he arrived for them, he made their torment so great that in any afterlife imaginable they’d suffer his wrath. You were untouchable, had been made immortal by his request and it made him worriless about you ever dying. Prepare your time, because all of his is for you.

You would discuss poetry around a glass of the best wines all the realms could offer, discuss futile matters; hells, you’d make him laugh. When were the times he ever had a moment to sincerely laugh ?

He’d never get tired of talking to you, knowing your points of views on any subjects no matter how ridiculous they were, of making him feel by your words that a devil’s hardened heart might beat for someone else than himself just for once.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep : 

One could think that outside of their usual occupations, Haarlep is nothing, just a cluster of people living through them, and someone that has no other living purpose than sexual pleasures.

But when you came into their life, it certainly was a different thing, because you offered them what few gave them in the past : freedom of choice. You were not spending time with them for their pure nature, but for who they had come to be. You listened to them, to their stories, to their interests, and they always looked at you with stars in their eyes.

Haarlep, no matter your occupation in the house of Hope, would always find ways to be with you.

Standing up to search the archives for a specific book ? They’d place their forehead on your shoulder as their arms laced around your waist from behind.

Sat to write a report ? They’d sit next to you, their tail suggestively teasing you by caressing your thigh.

Looking over a map while both your hands are keeping you steady on the table ? They’d tower over you, chest against your back as they placed their chin in the crook of your neck and both of their hands next to yours to touch them.

There was no way in hell you’d get them away from you.

Being with someone as a couple was such an enigmatic concept for them, thus they’d engage in the making of pranks, taking the image of one of their past conquests to come up to you, ask you questions and take their role extremely seriously.

Until at one point, they’d ask through their chosen envelope “Is your heart taken yet ?”, to which you’d always answer “they took more than my heart.”

They kept taking various forms to see if you’d somehow let your interests in them waver, flirting and pushing limits to see if you truly loved them : not a single time would you let yourself be charmed, describing how your partner was simply irreplaceable in your mind and soul, which only made them love you more each time.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan : 

Dating Rolan will undoubtedly lead to afternoons where you stay by his side, sat as he searches for different books and scrolls in archives to make some sort of inventory.

You observe how serious he is when he sits down, quill in hand as the scratching of it on paper starts again. How his horns catch the candle light, how his glowing eyes skim through lines on end, how his pointer and middle finger join together to underline the words he has to copy.

You could stay like that for hours, and just when you feel you’re maybe disturbing his concentration by your presence and finally stand up, you feel something tighten around your ankle. Your eyes travel down your leg to see Rolan’s tail wrapped around your leg.

His eyes find yours, and he seems as surprised as you are of the reaction, but he doesn’t apologise. Instead, he murmurs two simple words : “Stay, please.” How could you refuse that ?

He’d take you on dates in the middle of the night, bringing you to the highest point of the tower to use the telescope and spend an evening watching the sunset and watching the stars. He’d bring pastries and fruits with him, having placed cushions and blankets on the ground for the both of you to settle comfortably.

He’d summon a flower to place in your hair with the flick of the wrist, create small fireworks with the snap of a finger, make a shooting star rain in the sky with a murmur, just for you.

You’d tease him about how long he’d have been preparing such dates, kissing him and telling him how you’d loved it, and he’d always turn his gaze away as his cheeks warmed up and your laugh made his heart flutter

There’d always be times when, for a break during the day at handling the tower, you’d come see him, and he’d drop whatever he was doing no matter the task to let you come sit on his lap and hug him.

He always waited for that time of day, for the kisses you placed on his horns and the words of encouragement you’d give him.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ wyll : 

Dating Wyll means being treated like royalty, and doing whatever you want with your prince charming of a boyfriend. I can picture him taking you to plays, some that sometimes retrace some of his own adventures, where in that case he comes hidden with a cloak to watch it.

You will always tease him about some memorable lines of diverse plays you’ve seen about one of his epics, and he’ll always end up chasing after you laughing as he catches you in his arms to attack you with kisses.

If you are not already proficient in swordsmanship, you can be assured that he will be the most patient teacher. He’d adjust your posture, some teasing touches that’d linger on your hips and waist as one of his hands guides yours holding your weapon.

Soon enough, when you’d be comfortable to handle a little fight, he’d have regular duels with you.

You don’t count the number of times he jokingly smacked your ass with the flat of his sword as you fell on the ground again and again anymore, but you always waited for the kisses on your sore palm after every training day.

He buys you flowers every week, different bouquets every time.

He treats you both like you’re made of porcelain that he wants to protect and hold gently, and as the brightest diamond he ever saw and that he wants everyone to see shine.

He always kisses your ring fingers whenever he holds your hand, showering your face in kisses that makes you scrunch your entire face with laughter.

Wyll is the kind of boyfriend that makes you feel like nothing has moved since your first “i love you”s, it’s been years that you’ve been going out together for 2 weeks. 

[ahqkas]

husband!simon with a baby (fem!wife!reader)

husband!simon will became more emotionally guarded. he struggles with his emotions, experiencing the mixture of feelings from joy to anxiety. the announcement of your pregnancy can also act like a trigger to his trauma with his own childhood, reminding him of the pain he went through due to his father’s behavior. the fear of repeating the history is very present in his head, and he will beat himself up if he shows any negative emotions towards you during the pregnancy. he swears he won’t become like him (his father) and that the baby will be shown nothing else but love and adoration since the day of birth, he’ll make sure if that

husband!simon who, despite the nervousness and anxiety he feels, is deeply concerned for your well-being and the child’s health during labor. he wants you both to be okay and if something happened to either of you, or god forbid to both of you, he would have a hard time living with himself. it’s difficult to say if he would be physically present during the birth, he wants to be with you but he doesn’t know if his job would allow that during the moment. if luck’s on his side and he has the chance to witness the birth of his, your baby, it helps to build a stronger connection between you as a family

husband!simon whose eyes become a bit teary at the sight of you cradling the small baby to your chest, dark irises watching you two and imprinting the picture into his mind so he can relive the moment whenever he feels like it. he’s just so happy you both are okay and his eyes soften when you bring the baby girl towards him, his arms reaching out to take her into his embrace. she’s so fuckin’ small in his hands, so delicate and sweet looking, he swears he’ll bring her nothing but love and happiness. the pride and joy he feels in the depth of his chest is the best feeling in the whole world and your tired yet loving eyes remind him how much he appreciates the chance he was given on another family (this time, he will make it right)

the baby works her charm on husband!simon to melt his cold heart and it works every single time. for example:

༉‧₊˚. FIRST SMILE !

in the cozy living room of a small house, simon was sitting cross legged with the baby leaning against his firm chest on a soft blanket, surrounded by an array of colorful toys and childrens’ books to pass the time as another day neared to its end. the father was showing his daughter pictures of animals as you cooked dinner in the kitchen, leaving them to form a bond on their own. an illustration of a german shepherd was present on the page in front of them as simon pointed at the dog, his eyes shifting between the book and his baby girl to see if he was boring her but her wide eyes were full of curiosity. “look at that, sweetheart. that’s a german shepherd, they’re known for their loyalty and courage.”

the baby’s gaze, intense and unwavering, was fixed on the dog. simon half expected for her to whine in displeasure, to show him she was intimidated by the picture but to his surprise, a tiny hand reached out and traced the image with fingers in excitement of learning something new. the little girl turned in his lap to look at his face and the sight of his daughter’s heartwarming smile was enough to send simon into a trance. her eyes were sparkling with delight and his own were wide, full of surprise. for all he knew, that was her first smile ever and she gave it to him, a person he thought his daughter would never smile at.

“did you just -“ his heart skipped a beat upon hearing a chorus of giggles escaping her as she tried to cover her mouth with both of her hands, but from the way her kind eyes and chubby cheeks were moving, simon knew she was still grinning at him.

why would she be smiling in his presence? what was the reason? he was still insecure about his parental skills and the new position of a father. but as the realization sinked in that his daughter was indeed smiling at him, a wave of feelings washed over him and the man found himself softly smiling back at her.

he didn’t hesitate to scoop the smiling baby up into his arms, determined to hear her little giggles as she grinned upon the gesture, feeling joyful to be in daddy’s hold. it was a magical and heart-melting moment for simon, seeing the big smile for the first time and a thought flashed in his mind. he wanted his girl to smile as much as possible from now and nothing would take his wish away.

despite his size, his footsteps were quiet as he approached you in the kitchen with your daughter in his arms, his hold on her protective and gentle. you could sense he radiated pure happiness the moment he leaned against the kitchen counter next to you with the giggling baby on his hip as you assisted the bubbling pot with soup. “she gave me her very first smile, lovey.” “c’mon, show that pretty smile to mommy now, sunshine.”

the fear of not receiving one of those smiles was real to him, he knew he didn’t look like he was a welcoming figure and his intimidating demeanor could cause troubles in her point of view to the little girl. yet here he was, with the meaningful moment forever carved into his mind.

simon cherishes the moment deeply in his heart and whenever he’s feeling low, a single sight of your daughter’s smile can make his day better without struggles.

༉‧₊˚. FIRST BATH !

simon was standing by the slowly filling bathtub, his puzzled expression shifting between the various baby bath products in front of him. he looked so confused, this obviously wasn’t his territory but he requested that this time it would be him who gave your daughter a bath and you agreed without any hesitation. you were watching him with a gentle smile as you undressed your daughter, who seemed to be giggling and cooing mess as if she sensed her father’s unease and wanted to help him in calming down.

his dark irises were looking for your approval as he checked the water for right temperature and at your nod, he took the little girl into his own arms, lowering her into the bathtub with shaky hands. despite the slight trembling in his muscles, he kept a secure hold on the baby to not drop her.

you were watching the scene unfold with a fond smile, noticing the way he carefully cradled your daughter’s head in his big palms, his intentions cautious and gentle. you can clearly see the determination to do it right in his eyes and you kneel down next to him, resting your arms at the edge of the bathtub while you gave guided him through the steps of washing the baby’s tiny body.

your husband felt himself relaxing after few minutes into the bath time, his feelings shifting from one of skepticism to a mix of wonder and surprise. he was afraid he might have hurt the little girl but now when he overcame his fears, the way your daughter’s eyes lit up at the splashing water around her and her tiny fingers were touching the bubbles to pop them, a small smile grazed his lips at the sight while a gentle warmth enveloped his insides. when the bath came to an end and he wrapped the baby in a fluffy towel, he couldn’t help but chuckle as she kicked her feet and giggled freely. in that moment, simon realized that even though he might be a heartless soldier, he’s also a loving father who broke the cycle and is capable of tenderness.

when you reached out to offer help with getting your daughter dressed, he shook his head with a newfound confidence in his actions as he started to dress her up. a cozy onesie was embracing your daughter’s body soon as she rested on her father’s chest, and simon knew there was nothing he should be afraid of involving your daughter as long as he had you by his side to provide him with support.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 4

content warning: mentions of sexual coercion (may be triggering to some so I marked the area where I talk about this subject with 🎧, the story will still make sense if you have to skip it), the word assault is used once in regards to Miguel’s situation at the party, fluff to make up for the last part, Miguel’s biological father is Tyler Stone here but he IS NOT comic book Miguel physically by ANY MEANS 😭, the progression might be a little fast?? I hope not though I want them to kith 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽, a little suggestive at one part but nothing serious

word count: 2.4k (at this point y'all...you must know that I like telling stories because wtf), kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who set his alarm for 8 am the next morning. It rings long enough for his roommate to get up and shove him in his side.

“Shit. Sorry,” Miguel groans. His head is splitting and he feels like he’s been run over.

“Coming in at ass o’clock in the morning and letting your alarm ring past 12 rings? What happened to my roomie?” Peter muses, scratching is stomach. His own eyes are tired as he blinks at Miguel’s body slumped against the bed.

“A party that I should’ve never gone to,” Miguel says, bringing the ends of his palms to his eyes and breathing deep. “Nothing went how I wanted it to.”

“It looks to me that you got everything you wanted,” Peter yawned, going to grab a water from the mini fridge. He handed it to Miguel who thanked him and emptied the whole thing in one go.

“I left a girl that I really liked alone there,” Miguel replies, voice broken. “Was stuck in a room with a bunch of girls I didn’t even know. I was gone way too long and she left.”

“Shit, O’Hara,” Peter said, eyebrows raised. “Did they do anything to you?”

“No. After they realized I wasn’t trying to do anything, they just tried to bring the party upstairs. I didn’t get back downstairs until two hours later.”

“Did you reach out to your girl, at least?”

Miguel reached for his phone, “She texted me when she left and I texted back later.”

He looked at his phone, going to your messages. “And still no reply.”

“Can you blame her?” Peter asked, getting back in his own bed. “If I left my girlfriend anywhere while we’re out, she would literally have my head on a wall.”

Miguel wanted to cry. How could he fuck up something so badly?

He sighed as he brought his knees up, resting his arms on his knees. He put his head on his arms, trying to think.

“What should I do? I really like her,” he asks, voice watery.

“Not to be that guy, but there’s no time like the present,” Peter says. “Tell her the truth. Explain things to her. If you’re feeling that awful, do something for her.”

Miguel sniffles and groans out, deciding to get up.

“You’re right,” he says. “No time like the present.”

GymRat!Miguel who grabs a light breakfast and gets straight to work. He thanks the universe that his mom packed a bunch of aimless art supplies in one of his bins. He gets to crafting, putting his heart into everything. He’s freshening up, spraying on cologne, bringing out the slacks that make his ass look great, tightening his belt, fixing his hair. He tightens up so well that even Peter whistles when he walks out of the bathroom. He grabs his craft and goes off campus to a store, buying a few snacks, a circus animal cookie plush, and a gatorade in case you happened to be a little hungover too. He even goes the extra mile and finds a cute apology card. If anything, he hope you could get a laugh out if it.

GymRat!Miguel who makes his way to your dorm building, some guy letting him in after he saw him lingering around the door like a kicked puppy. He thanks him profusely and runs up the stairs to your door. He stands outside in the hallway for a minute and catches his breath, trying to still his beating heart. He gives a light knock, hoping you were there.

The door opens, revealing another girl who looks Miguel up and down with a scowl. Her hand is on her hip and her bonnet moves with her head as she stares Miguel down.

Miguel stutters, asking if you were there.

“Maybe, depending on what you’re about to say next,” she says.

“Look, can you tell her that I’m deeply sorry. I should have never left her alone last night. She didn’t deserve that. I apologize for even accepting the invitation to go. I should have known better. Nothing was worth me staying upstairs that long. Can I just- please, let me just talk to her,” Miguel pleads, desperate.

Your roommate just goes “hmph” under her breath and closes the door in his face.

Miguel’s arms drop and he gapes at the door like a fish. He’s willing to stand here until you have to come out, but isn’t sure what to do.

Just when he considers knocking again, the door swings open again and you’re standing there in a giant t-shirt and pajama pants with pokeman balls printed on them. A giant blanket is wrapped around your body.

You look at him, eyes cautious, “Jess said you were groveling. I’ll give you 5 minutes of my precious time. Something you clearly know how to waste.”

You sounded hurt and Miguel felt like dying.

He takes a deep breath calls out your name.

“I am so sorry for leaving you the other night. It was extremely fucked up, especially when I made sure that you could come. Anything could have happened to you and it was careless of me to not see that. I promise you my mom raised me better,” he says, looking down at your face.

You just crossed your arms and scrunched your mouth up. Even now, Miguel was still infatuated with you.

“I’m glad that you understand how fucked up that was. I was worried about you. I waited. For hours. I didn’t know anyone there and it was nerve wracking,” you say, words coming out like ice.

“I know and I apologize. Truly. Please just,” Miguel hands you his gifts. A gift bag full of the goodies he bought and an origami flower bouquet with a few lilies of the valley sprinkled throughout. A flower for renewal. A flower that he hopes speaks to you. “Please accept this and my honest apology.”

You look down at the flowers, taken aback. “Did you make these?” you ask, a little awed.

Miguel rubs one of his wrists, completely nervous, “Yes, I did. The lilies are real, though.”

“Well, obviously, Miguel,” you laugh softly at him. You start to go through the bag, heart warming at his initial gift.

“If you’ll accept my apology, I really would like to try taking you out. Again,” he says, shifting his weight to another leg.

“Wasn’t aware that last night was a date but slow down, tiger. I didn’t say I would forgive you yet.”

“Right!”

You took out the cookie plushie, cursing in your head about how cute it was. He really did know you. You kept going, heart melting the further in the bag you got. You finally got to the card, taking it out of the envelope.

You laugh at the cute seal, “You were an ‘ice hole.’”

Miguel heart sings at your laugh, happy that you were finding joy in this somehow.

You start to read the card, eyes wandering the page. His heart is hammering. Not only did he write his heart out, he dropped his confession of love like for you at the end. Whether or not you accepted it would make or break the rest of Miguel’s week.

Your eyes slowly drifted and you started to blink faster.

“Our time together has been short, but I think of you day and night. I dream about you. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your touch. It sounds sudden and cheesy but none of these parts of you escape my mind. I’m not sure what it felt like for you, but as soon as I was lucky enough to be graced with you in my lab group, I was stuck. To me, you lit up the room. I want to continue to explore that light, if you are willing to have me. May you please forgive me and consider going out with me?”

“If this feels like too much, I completely understand and I’ll-”

“Shut up,” you say, eyes teary. “Do you really mean this, Miguel?”

He stares at you, itching to reach out and hug you, “Every word.”

You wipe at your cheeks, a little overwhelmed. “Come here, you big goof.”

Miguel practically teleports the short distance, wrapping his arms around you. You sniffle in his chest, warmed up in his arms.

“I forgive you,” you say, words muffled into his shirt. “Just don’t ever do that shit again.”

He brings his hand to his head in a salute, “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“Of course you were a Boy Scout,” you say, giggling as you look up at him. He smelled really good and looked delectable. If you were weaker, you would have answered the door instead of Jess and filled the hallway with obscenities.

🎧

“Tell me though,” you say, trying to ground yourself. “What does one do when he leaves me for two hours?”

Miguel felt a groan in his chest, “Those girls were trying to do some weird harem thing. I was stuck in a room telling them no, trying to drink my way out of there. They kept trying to add more people to the mix, thinking I would go along with it. I didn’t want a case on my hands so it took me a while to get out of there without force.”

You went rigid in his arms, “Oh my god, Miguel!That’s assault.”

“Nothing crazy happened. I made sure that none of them got handsy.”

You bring your hand to his face, “That’s great, but there was still alcohol involved, which makes that coercion. Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Just my roommate, Peter. He sounded a little worried, but we were more focused on getting me to this point with you.”

You remove yourself from his arms and step back into your dorm.

“Stay right here. The council needs to discuss and Jess is on the Student Association,” you say, leaving a crack in the door.

GymRat!Miguel who is sat on the floor of your dorm room and explained the implications of what he went through. Jess ensures him that she’ll get somebody on the case despite Miguel saying that he was ok. You both ensure him that nothing will happen on his end and that this should stop those girls from doing this to anyone else in the future. Miguel is on board with that and you give him one more tight hug.

“Although you didn’t have to, I wish you would have told me. I would have came barging through those doors,” you say, a frown on your face.

“Really, it’s fine. I feel a little silly going along with the whole ordeal anyway.”

“None of that is your fault though, Miguel. You didn’t know what they were going to do or what they were trying to do,” you say, voice firm.

Miguel was enamored by your passion, “Thank you for saying that. If it helps, my father is Tyler Stone.”

Jess turns her body completely to you both on the floor, mouth dropping in shock, “Oh yeah, that entire organization is getting shut down.”

🎧

GymRat!Miguel who walks you out of your dorm, hand in hand with you. You two agreed on a nice coffee date. Something light after so much turmoil. You looked adorable, running around the room frantic and getting all dolled up just for him. He’s happy that he was able to work things out.

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from you, rubbing your hand with his thumb as you both sip your drinks. He begs for bites of your chocolate cake and you roll your eyes and feed it to him, a little shy at the PDA.

GymRat!Miguel who explains his family tree to you. You're still shocked at the Tyler Stone name drop. You're empathetic to his situation, agreeing with how tough it was to find out someone you knew for so long wasn't your actual father. He assures you that he's settled with the feelings for now, just happy to still have a connection with both of his dads and his mom. Plus, the money Tyler sends him was not anything to be sad over.

GymRat!Miguel who learns of your dating history. You've had a boyfriend and few meaningless dates. As you describe how he treated you, it makes sense that you were ready to completely block Miguel out of your life. Who stands up their prom date that they did a promposal for?

GymRat!Miguel who takes you shopping at the bookstore. Letting you get just about anything. Some romance books? Grab it. A plushie? Of course. A Beyoncé vinyl? No need to even ask. He was happy following you around the store as you squealed over certain things. Your eyes twinkled as you explained a series about a deaf girl falling in love and her boyfriend learning sign language to communicate with her. Miguel responds accordingly, humming at whatever you say.

GymRat!Miguel who feels crazy watching you eat a strawberry ring pop that he got from candy machine. You placed it on your left ring finger and he watched as your lips kept puckering around the crown of the candy diamond, taking it to the hilt and pushing it back out. Your tongue would come out occasionally as you slid the candy down it.

"Is it good?" he asks, mind in the gutter.

"Mm hm," you say, a smile on your face, ring pop popping from your mouth.

Lord help Miguel.

GymRat!Miguel who opens his car door for you. He also reaches across and buckles your seatbelt for you, body close to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who walks you to your dorm room, hand still in yours. You both linger there for a moment, taking in each other's space. You peer up at Miguel with those Bambi eyes again.

"I had a really great time with you Miguel," you say, holding your new bag to your chest. "I'm glad you came here this morning."

"I'm glad too," Miguel says looking at you, hearts in his eyes.

You bite your lip, rocking on your feet before you decide to do something.

You reach up on your tip toes and kiss Miguel on his cheek.

He stares at you, shocked. He stares at you a little longer, then begins to lean down. You get excited, hoping that he'll do what you were scared to do.

Jess swings the door open, "Aht aht! Come on inside, girl."

Miguel stands straight, face in flames.

"Good night, Miguel," you say, cheeks feeling hot.

"Good night," Miguel watches as Jess smirks at him before she closes the door.

GymRat!Miguel who floats all the way back to his dorm. Peter grins and tussles with him in excitement after taking in Miguel's appearance. He texts Gabriel while he gets ready for bed:

"When have I ever lost?"

"I kicked your ass in Mario Party last week but go off Ig"

"🖕🏽"

"🫰🏽"

Miguel went to sleep once more, having thoughts of you.

dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵

a/n: I’m almost certain that this is the LAST time something this serious happens in this series. It will be pretty fluffy for a while...I think 🫣

As always, thank you for reading! Leave a like and a reblog. Please comment! I love to hear what you guys have to say 🥺 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore

[swordymacaroni]

A/N- Okay. So. Soft, sweet Konig who is nowhere near harsh and threatening as the tales tell. He's just so pookie.

@go-go-gadget-autism-I'm sorry I couldn't do the OC request, but here's Konig x Reader

Pairings- Konig x GN Reader

Warnings- Slight Body Dysmorphia/Diabetes Inducing Fluff/Author is sleep-deprived and unsure of her writing

Konig, whose salvation is his Liebling and no one else. As soon as he comes home from absolutely anywhere, he'll drop everything he has and sprint through the house to find you. Whether you're cooking dinner or doing laundry or just staring into space, he's barreling towards you, ignoring your surprised yelp as he turns you around and picks you up, holding you close, so close, listening to your breathing, leaning into your warmth, your softness, your love, that he's been deprived of for the last few days.

Konig, whose just big and awkward wherever he goes. He'll eagerly join you for a family reunion or friendly gathering, but boy, he has the social skills of a suitcase. He'll just walk behind you, head down, trying to shrivel into himself. You have to remind him constantly, that he can take up space, and everybody here loves him, especially you. Even after that, he manages to say hi to five people before his social battery dies out. Now he's tugging on the hem of your top like a befuddled puppy, eyes pleading as he asks ever so politely, if you can come home with him and cuddle for the rest of the night.

Konig, whose mostly silent, spiraling in his own thoughts, until they're too much for him to handle. Then he'll grab you sleeve, pull you to the couch, and lay his head down in your lap. If you're distracted, nose in a book or in a device, he'll nudge your stomach with his nose, wanting attention. When you start carding your fingers through his hair with a small smile, he finally relaxes in your lap, brain promptly shutting down. Yes, he'll fall asleep, and no, even in his sleep, he won't let you get up. You're gonna have to pass out on the couch with him. Sorry about the kinks in you neck the following morning, schatz. :(

Konig, whose seeking your touch as soon as something goes wrong. He'll be upset about the smallest of things, and nothing except your physical reassurance will fix it.

-He burned the pasta? He need you to take the spatula from him with a gentle smile and a kiss to his nose, or he won't eat for two days out of guilt.

-He knocked over a vase? You'll have to cup his face with your hands and declare that it's alright and mistakes happen before he finally calms down, blinking away tears and clutching your hand as you go to grab a broom.

Konig, whose constantly nitpicking his flaws. Everyday before he showers or takes a bath, he spends forever in front of the mirror, locating if he has chub or cellulite. If he sees any, calorie counting has started for the next three months. But that all changes when one day you walk in on him pinching his stomach in disgust. He whips around, blabbering something before you throw yourself onto him, maliciously kissing every part of him. His face, his arms, his chest, his stomach, and then finally his lips with a threatening, "You think you're not good enough ever again and I'm gonna start withholding kisses." Now Konig catches himself every time he starts to think negatively about his body. Your kisses are too precious.

Konig, whose eyes practically have hearts dancing in them when you emerge from the bathroom, hair damp and face devoid of makeup. His voice catches in his throat because you're so beautiful, so perfect. His feet are carrying him towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "Don't deserve you, liebling. You're to good fo' me."

Konig, whose heart beats in his body but beats for you. This big, burly military man, who has been trained to survive absolutely anywhere, cannot live without you.

You're his refuge,

his redemption,

his home,

his.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[slytherinshua]

ON THE BLEACHERS

summary. your boyfriend is unapologetically whipped for you. here are all the things he does!!! genre. fluff. headcanons. christmassy juyeon!!! warnings. a lil violence mention. juyeon is adorable. not proofread. other than that nothing but fluff <3 pairing. jock!juyeon x nerd!fem!reader. (not specifically like nerd but... mentioned that reader wins a science fair and aces a test etc so leaning more towards jock x nerd trope.) wc. 1.8k. request. requested by 🗿 anon. a/n. i literally had SO many thoughts for this juyeon like OH MY GOD. net. @deoboyznet

jock!juyeon who was always obvious with his admiration for you even before he confessed. the entire school knew that he only had eyes for you and it was just a matter of when you would get together. the football team celebrated even more than juyeon when you became his girlfriend because they thought he would finally shut up about you. oh, how wrong they were…

jock!juyeon who simply can’t shut up about you!! sometimes he’ll just be talking to himself out loud, wondering what date he should take you on, what you would like as a gift, or what time you were free, etc. other times he’s yapping his teammates’ ears off about you because he’s so in love. he’s telling everyone about how you won the science fair that year, how you got 100 on your recent test, or how you slayed your english presentation (he knew because he missed his math class to watch you through the door). when it comes to you, he just can’t shut up, he’s so in love…

jock!juyeon who hears his teammates tease him all the time, calling him whipped or a simp. he couldn’t care less… in fact he’s proud of the fact that he’s absolutely whipped for you. because it’s you!! you deserve all the attention and affection you get from juyeon and he would never let petty comments from his teammates second guess how he acts around you. most of them are just mad that they can’t pull someone as gorgeous as you, anyway. at least, that’s what juyeon told you in a very upset ramble after-the-fact. you had to kiss away his pout.

jock!juyeon who wouldn’t hesitate to think with his fists if he ever heard them talking shit about you. he knows you would never advise physical fights, but he can barely control his anger when he hears something foul come out of someone’s mouth followed by your name. he’ll try his best to harshly shut them down with just words, but if they persist, his fists might just land on their nose. he has to sit through your scolding after the fact, but he would do it again in a heart beat. he doesn’t even care if he got suspended.

jock!juyeon who has no regard for being on time to classes or practice. his only concern is walking you to your classes, holding your hand in the hallway, giving you a sweet smile and wishing you luck before a test, and, of course, getting a kiss on the cheek before the bell rings. there’s rarely a day when he’s not 5-10 minutes late. he’s also extremely forgetful with his mind only being focused on you that he has to rely on you to have his textbooks and schedule for his next class. he was a little bashful at first when you’re handing him his textbooks and notebook and ushering him off to his class as you step into yours. but now he’s gotten used to it, and he quite likes it. especially when you leave little notes inside his notebook.

jock!juyeon who sprints through the hallways despite the no running policy after first quarter is done because second quarter is history which is a shared class he has with you. he literally gets to your classroom before you’ve even finished packing your bag. of course, he carries all your books and your bag for you regardless of if you have a shared class but especially this time since you’ll be walking in together. he always sits next to you, even the teacher can’t separate you two because he’ll find a way back to your desk sdkjskd. he always nudges your feet under the table or writes little notes on the paper if you’re not allowed to talk in class. you have to force him to pay attention with the bribe of kisses after school (which is always an effective bribe). he can’t even focus on taking notes or listening to the lesson because he’s too busy staring at you the entire time. but if you’re tired in class he will kindly offer to take notes for you both instead and he really does focus hard on writing everything down. his technique for note taking is lacking a bit but it’s still functional and informative enough for you that you don’t mind </3 it’s obvious that he tried his best for you and that is enough to warm your heart :(

jock!juyeon who is on the basketball team as well as the football team. whether it’s football or basketball, he’s the mvp and ace of both teams. although, his playing is wildly affected by you. he plays his best when he talks to you before games and knows you’re in the audience watching him. he’ll make every shot, and carry the entire team easily. but when you’re not there his game is completely off. he’ll miss shots that were easy, he’ll stumble and fall or even get injured and have to go to the nurse’s office. his brain is completely foggy when you’re not there or if there’s anything going on with you that he’s concerned about. especially when you’re sick or not at school for some reason the only thing he can think about is you. his coaches barely have to ask when they see that he’s not playing as well as normal— it’s always something to do with you. they let him take a short break to text you, and oftentimes, it gets his game right back where it should be.

jock!juyeon who swears his heart fell out of his chest when he first saw you wearing his basketball jersey. something in his brain or dna just SHIFTED right then and there he’s so obsessed. the second he saw you he kissed you so desperately like omg you looked SO pretty in his jersey he went absolutely insane. he always leaves his freshly washed jerseys in your locker and whenever you show up wearing them to watch him practice or his games he plays better than EVER. his coaches aren’t too happy about the fact that he keeps “misplacing” his jerseys and uniforms, but they order new ones for their star player regardless. they know their sports team would be in the dirt without juyeon. his talent always makes up for any recklessness he pulls.

jock!juyeon who always searches for you in the crowd before the game starts so he knows exactly where to look when he scores. he’ll blow you kisses or just smirk and wink at you when he scores an impressive point. or when he’s playing basketball he’ll point to you in the crowd and smile so everyone knows he’s always playing for you. although he’s attractive enough that several girls on the cheerleading team would kill to have a chance with him, their thoughts are immediately shut down the first game, as they watch from the sidelines as juyeon dedicates every last field goal to you.

jock!juyeon who loves to take you to the gym or field for extra practices with just him. you usually do schoolwork on the bleachers or grass while he runs laps or drills some hoops. usually it’s productive for the first half an hour or so until juyeon gets too bored of having you there but not paying attention to him. he might teach you some shots or coach you on how to handle the ball. other times he’s more interested in kissing you while you try (and fail) to focus on your science homework…

jock!juyeon who asks you out to prom and homecoming and all the school events just like any other boy with a crush would. everyone in the school knows you’ll go together and knows you’ll be accompanying him everywhere even if he didn’t ask. but juyeon loves preparing flowers and a big banner and all the extra stuff possible when asking you out, so even though you’ve been happily together for months, he’ll still ask you out as if you weren’t even dating yet. he still gets all warm in the face when you say yes.

jock!juyeon who is your biggest motivator. you barely notice how important he is to your life because he’s always there 24/7. but on the rare occasion that he stays home sick or can’t make it for any reason, you, too, struggle to focus on your classes. you’re so worried about him, it just comes so naturally. he’s not on your mind front and center as much as you are on his, but he’s always there in the back of your mind regardless. you care about him just as much as he cares about you, you’re just more covert in your way of showing it. while you prefer quieter actions like kissing his cheek, cheering from the sidelines, or writing him notes for his classes, juyeon wears his heart on his sleeve. he’s dedicating every single second of his life to you, and making sure everyone around him knows that you are his.

jock!juyeon who follows you around like a lost puppy. he really just lets you take the lead, he’s just happy as long as he’s beside you. the only thing is, he has to be holding your hand. he’s really big on that. always holding your hand in the hallways, only letting go when the second bell rings. he holds your hand during lunch too, and if he can't, his hand is around your waist or on your thigh. he’s so clingy and touchy, but you love it. the only time you won’t allow him to be clingy is when he’s sweaty from a game or practice. but this boy will take a shower so fast just so you agree to hug him again.

jock!juyeon who is hard on himself when he doesn’t play well during games. he still feels the pressure of being the mvp of the team even though he has great support from his coaches and you. if anything happens during the game, he blames himself. you always have to cheer him up and talk him through what went wrong. telling him it’s not his fault and that he did the best he could. he’ll only feel better once he hears your soft words while patting his back. and you always make sure to give him a kiss when you’re done talking too <3

jock!juyeon who shares all his highs with you. when he got accepted onto the national team for university, you’re right there with him congratulating him and being his biggest cheerleader. he’s there through your biggest highs as well, more proud of you than anyone else when you got into your dream university. he was honestly sweating it before you opened your acceptance letter because your dream university happened to be the one he got into on scholarship, and he was so scared he’d have to spend his university years apart from you. he couldn’t be happier that he’ll be right by your side throughout university as well. he hopes after those years, he’ll not only be able to call you his girlfriend, but also see a ring on your finger.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows

[voonroo]

Hell? [01]

⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

Want to chat? Check out my discord server↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝

Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.

I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!

My head hurts…

Am I lying down?

Is it raining?

Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.

You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?

Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.

The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.

“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.

“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.

“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.

Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.

“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.

“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-

“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.

You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.

“What's your name?”

“I don't… I don't know?”

The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.

Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.

Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.

You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…

You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.

Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.

“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”

The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.

The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.

Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.

Word Count: 817

A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!

[reiderwriter]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 

You accepted understanding from him, though. 

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.” 

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 

“What?” 

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 

“I live down the hall.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 

“I have three PhD's-” 

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

[edges-of-night]

Hii! <3

I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason

(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)

Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡

Have a great weekend everybody!

CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.

.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”

.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a “suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

2.3k words- wanderer comes with you on a job. things are likely to go up in smoke.

"this. was such a stupid idea." wanderer hisses from his spot beside you. back pushed against a well-aged stone wall, his hat in his hands since the obscenely round headwear makes hiding behind a wall a very convoluted endeavor.

you, who was standing nearest to the corner of the wall, peaking around it every so often swiveled your chin towards him and brought your finger up to your mouth to harshly shush him.

"i didn't ask for you to come. you invited yourself!" you hiss quietly back at him. the veins in his forehead from your return fire felt like they were around to fry and malfunction.

"no," he rebuttals, "buer insisted." which was... half true.

nahida had caught wind of a very interesting commission posted on behalf of the adventurers' guild on treasure street. something involving old books or scripts and she took a liking to it. 'you already know all of whatever's in those dusty tomes,' he had told her. still, nothing beat recovering the physical wisdom she already had so she could hold it in her small hands and fawn over it... so she claims. that's why he was here in the first place.

going along with whoever decided to take on the job beat out over having to endure her pressing gaze that lit his back on fire. the problem was that you were the one who took the commission.

while he tolerated your presence and didn't dislike you being around or yapping even if he was in a sour mood, when you were working out on the field- even he knew you were a reckless lost cause. did you bring results? yes. but you always found the most ludicrous ways to get there. if he took his eyes off you for a second, who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into.

presently, you and he had successfully snuck into the hideout of which the lost books were rumored to be. an old stone building that once stood as a small manor. the books were rumored to be in the last remaining tower on the east side of the main building; or so says the suspiciously detailed commission. of course, this hideout wasn't without its squatters. treasure hoarders infested the place like worker bees in a hive.

you both had gotten lucky so far. reckless as you are, he was half convinced you'd storm the place, guns blazing and just bull doze yourself all the way through.

as for what was going on around the corner, you were currently listening for the small group of treasure hoarders to pass by; or you would be if your hat wearing companion would stop nagging. shushing him between your teeth once more, you swirl your head away from him. annoyance bit at the back of his neck, still he obliged you by staying silent. one of his feet propped up against the wall behind him as he idled.

the chatter between the men you were both sneaking around faded into a murmur as he watched the back of your head from the corn of his eyes. the adventure's uniform was always tacky to him. apparently you thought so do, if all the changes you've made to yours was anything to go by.

"okay," you whisper. wanderer kicks himself off the wall before placing his hat back on his head with practiced grace. "coast is clear, let's go before someone else comes back around." as you take off around the corner his eyes roll before he's chasing after you.

for all his moaning, the previous nomad had no reason to doubt your skills. you were good as what you did. it was just always more trouble than it's worth sometimes.

with the same tactic of wait, listen, dash and repeat, you both managed to get to the tower and pushed past an old, domed wood door. the spiral of stone steps leading higher into the tower was so visibly unsafe, one wrong step on the wrong piece of rock would send a typical person tumbling all the way back down. of course, if that did happen, wanderer would just latch onto your collar and fly you the rest of the way up by your fabric scruff.

after an annoyingly long trip up in upward circles, you come to another door identical to the one at the bottom. wooden, domed and built with iron latches. twisting the handle and releasing the latch, the door opened, and the scent of dust hit your nose.

you step into the old room that looked like a small library once a upon a time and waved your hand in front of your face to stave off all the dust in the air. you coughed on it as wanderer watched you with crossed arms.

"you're so dramatic," he sassily told you before walking further into the library. a perk of not needing to breath was not caring about dust apparently. your lungs were currently envious of his mechanical innards.

"oh... shu-t up-" you choked, following after him.

the library itself wasn't grand. it was obviously old. cobwebs on the ceilings and in all corners, layers of dust that could easily create a thick quilt if it was all gathered in one place. the room of shelves held so many books draped in peeling covers and age-damage. still, somewhere among them was the books you needed to find.

it took a long time, longer than you wished, and more battles between dust clouds, spiders, and cobwebs that you care to admit, but you had finally found what you were looking for. placing any loose pieces of paper into your satchel on your hip, you take the book and wrap it up in cloth before also tucking it away.

"i think that just about does it." you say, latching your satchel up securely. "let's get out of here before-"

the sound of echoed, rushed footsteps stomping their way up the stairs behind the cracked door of the library interrupted you. spinning around, you faced the door as wanderer clicked his tongue.

"you just had to go and say something dumb."

"why are you blaming me?!" you screech.

"there's someone up here alright!"

one of the owners of the rushing feet shouted. wanderer's glare towards you made you look away quickly with sweat running down your cheek. you were guilty of nothing that he can prove. he stomped over to you and pulled on that cheek, his fingers pinching the flesh as his insides whirled in irritation. "you loudmouth!" through your squinted eyes did you see steam puffing from his mouth?

the cracked door blew open and behind it came rushing in three treasure hoarders. a knife thrower, a burly man with a shovel, and an excentric looking fellow in a red overcoat. 'oh great,' you think.

wanderer releases your cheek as the three men rush in. he grabs your arm and shoves you away from him and kicks starts your legs for you. you duck between the bookshelves as they give chase. the knife throwing man tries his luck, his projectiles lodging into the bookcase just as you find safety behind it. skidding to a swift turn, you counter with your own throwing skills- although with a stray rock on the floor inside of a knife.

a satisfied thunk sounded among the scuffle as the rock struck him on the head and he soon followed it to the floor. he deserves the headache he'll wake up with. your small victory was short as you yelp when the burly man with a shovel swings it and you just barely managed to duck under the woosh of its motion. rolling away from him you run, leading him towards a bookshelf you noticed was unstable earlier. once he was in place, you shoved the shelf with your shoulder, toppling it over the man.

books pelt him before the wooden encasement pins him to the floor. it was just heavy enough to keep him down long enough for an escape. stepping on the fallen shelf, you hear the treasure hoarder groan at your added weight on his back before you were rushing around the library back to the front.

"hey, [wanderer]! we've really gotta go!" you stood still in the library and wonder where the third guy had ran off to. he was the one you were most worried around. the last thing you needed was a molotov being thrown at you. "[wand]-" your second shout was cut off by a blast of wind swishing at your side. once the wind blew past, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the once tidy- but dusty- library. followed by a plume of fire.

"stop shouting! you're just giving yourself away!" you found wanderer at your back the moment you recovered from the sudden burst of air. there was a rumble in the floor caused by his vision as a blast of air sprang up from below the third attacker's feet. it violently burst from below, lifting him off his feet and onto his back.

three knocked down treasure hoarders. nice.

soon, the stairwell begin to fill with more noise. more shouting and stomping just like earlier. as you look over wanderer's shoulder, your voice chokes at the remnants of the flame-fueled molotov he had blasted away from your earlier. this library was the best fire starter in the books! dust, paper, wood. it checks all the boxes. and now you'd have to deal with more treasure hoarders.

"oh, come on!" you groan. wanderer looks behind his shoulder at you. he wonders if you realize that you've grabbed onto his arm or how close your nose was to his cheek at this angle. he clicks his tongue again before looking behind your head.

with his vision against his chest, he lifted his free arm, flinging a slice of air through a small window. the glass shatters, falls outside to the ground and the open air invisibly floods the room. it only adds to fan the flames that were now beginning to eagerly eat anything around it to grow.

moving, and dragging your wrist with him, he jumps up onto a nearby desk just under the now empty window frame.

"don't bite your tongue," he tells you. you look at him like he's nuts before he's shoving you out the window back first. shoving his palms against the front of your shoulders. your arms flail before the view of the library and wanderer, spin and flip to the outside stone of the tower and then the sky. there's a second of skirmishing noise before the sound of wind deafens you.

wanderer is quick to fly out of the window after you. diving down in the air, he swoops his arm under your stomach, securing you to his side. your body folds inwardly due to be stopped at free fall and wanderer takes a full few seconds of levitation before blasting off away from the scene.

"are you crazy?! why did you do that?!" you complain. rightfully so.

"did you want to stay and get burnt to a crisp?!" how he found the audacity to argue with you, you don't know. "we got what we needed anyway!"

"how about a little warning next time?!"

"stop shouting! you'll bite your tongue! don't you listen!"

"I have to shout so you hear me!"

the way he is holding you was backward; your legs were at his front with your arms clutching onto the flapping fabric that dangled on his person. clinging onto him, you watch the tower disappear behind the clearly strategic retreat. observing as smoke begins billowing up in the sky and you wonder if you'd have to include 'the result of the job was a massive fire' in your commission report.

it would break poor nahida's heart to know that so many books were lost to a reckless treasure hoarder who though a fire molotov in an old library was a good idea.

when you finally return to sumeru city and write up your report, your prompt in delivering it to katheryn. you glance over to the puppet who still hadn't dismissed himself back to the sanctuary of surasthana to do his own report back to the dendro archon herself with questioning eyes. was part of his task also to wait until you had submitted a report? what was keeping him?

walking over to his side, you dig the book out of your satchel along with the pieces of loose parchment. you offer them to him.

"do you need to take these back to lesser lord kusanali?" his arms remain crossed along his chest and he makes no move to uncross them to take your items. your chin juts up a fraction as if to tell him 'are you going to take these or?'

without so much as a word, he spins his back towards you. you're about to give him a piece of your mind, when he talks. "give them to her yourself." starting off, he walks further up treasures street, and you were left there flabbergasted. was he going to make you finish this job alone? "are you coming or not?" his voice called from up the slopped roads. he was waiting for you.

'guess he isn't.'

you jog to catch up to him, book clutched to your chest, and he waits until you were beside him to start walking again. just before he moved to open the door to the sanctuary, you stopped him.

"thanks for helping me out earlier." he turned to look at you quizzically. "you know? for deflecting that flaming bottle? it would've sucked if it caught the job items on fire."

"it wasn't a big deal." he turns away again.

"i also appreciate that you didn't let me get hurt."

there was a silence. then, "you're welcome." it was a genuine statement. not a hint of sass. it made you feel pretty proud. "come on." he told you before he's walking inside with you in tow, but not before opening the door for you.

nahida was pleased at the newfound items she could safely store away after thoroughly studying them. but when you informed her that the rest of the library you ventured to in search of those items went up in smoke? lesser lord kusanali wasn't the happiest archon in teyvat about that.

a/n: you'll never guess which scene i rly wrote all this for was- also yes i put [wander] in brackets when reader was speaking bc he's obvious named differently, so its more or less a name placeholder lol

[sanjisboyfie]

suguru's cherished mornings

-> geto suguru x male reader -> really short sorry idk i just had to publically show how much i love him.

-> still jjk universe but the one where this babe doesnt become anakin skywalker and defect away from everyone <3333 because i like to imagine this alternate universe a LOT

his black hair sprawled over the sheets, unfortunately getting painfully pulled by you when you're still sleeping. he winces as he feels it being pressuredly pushed down onto the mattress, giving a slight tug to his sensitive scalp and affectively waking him up.

he doesn't have the heart to even be remotely annoyed or angry with you. not when you look so peaceful sleeping. not when you're so effortlessly handsome it feels almost like his heart physically stops beating at your effortless charm.

he is just that in love with you.

the way you could make doing nothing but sleeping look like art was something special only to his eye, because he was the only one that had his eye on you. or, at least, that's what he tells himself to sleep better at night (he would very much rather not think about the probably high number of individuals that also find you attractive, it'll just put him in a sour mood).

he won't wake you up. instead, he props his head up onto his palm and continues gazing at you lovingly. sure, it can be a little bit creepy, but...okay, it is just creepy, but he just loves you so much. he might pick up the book that's resting on his bedside. he'll sit against the headboard as he reads, smiling softly when you so naturally shift your body to now be hugging his legs and resting on his lap.

one hand will hold the book up for him to read whilst the other traces mindless shapes on your back.

suguru loves touching you, whether it be in the smallest grazes of his fingers or those more heated moments, he loves, loves, loves touching you. it makes him happy - genuinly.

it's his own way of grounding himself, reminding himself that you're really there with him, next to him.

his large hands will run up and down your back until you eventually wake up. the book he's reading returns back to the bedside and he immediately focuses all of his attention on you.

"g'mornin', baby," he'll gently say, shuffling to hold you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, "did you sleep well?"

a tired hum is all he gets in response, but you can still feel him smiling against your skin. you return the question, your voice gravely as you speak.

then he's pressing his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, humming in delight as he gets to really take you in, through all of his senses.

he has you in his arms, obviously he can see you, and the last is that he is drowning in your natural scent.

he's obsessed, at this point.

"slept perfectly, as always," when i'm beside you - that's the last part of the sentence that suguru doesn't voice, for some reason.

his arms tighten around your waist. and now you're the one carding your fingers through his hair, to sooth him and relax that tight grip on your body. he doesn't know it, but it's practically suffocating.

gently, as you predicted, his hold does loosen up and allows you to sit in his lap now without him cutting off your circulation.

"should we stay in for a little while longer, babe? are you still tired?" he asks you, but doesn't get a response. all he feels is your body comfortiably slotting in with his and the arms you had around his neck loosely falling into your lap.

"silly boy," he chuckles, finding your habits endearing and amusing. you woke up, just to get comfortable in his lap and then fall back asleep. "i love you,"

there's a low hum that comes from your chest and he takes that answer with glee. he knows you would have said it back if you had the energy or that keen awareness.

_

when the two of you finally do have the energy to get out of bed, the morning finally starts in the bathroom. you're brushing your teeth standing next to each other, suguru sometimes childishly making funny faces at you in the mirror.

you almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when he fulls a particularly funny face. some other mornings you're sitting on the bathroom counter with suguru comfortably standing in between your open legs. his one hand will rest on one side of your lap with the other moving the toothbrush in his mouth. that hand near your lap will sometimes go underneath your shirt and start playing with the flesh of your hips.

it sometimes earns him a warning look, which he rolls his eyes at, but eventually does pull away to please you. the other times, though, when you let his fingers dance on your skin - those times he loves.

sometime in your morning routine, one of you will get a phone call from someone in jujutsu society to call you for a mission. usually, it's you since you're not a special grade like suguru. that means you're more high in demand for lesser grade curses.

he doesn't like that, though, so he often tags along with you wherever you have to go. doesn't like being away from you for too long. it makes him angsty. makes him worried.

he wants to be there for you if anything happens. or else he wouldn't be able to live peacefully.

but on the rare mornings, you don't get beckoned for work, the two of you are lounging in your small living room. two steaming cups of coffee are on the table as suguru watches the television with you scrolling on your phone.

your legs will most likely be thrown over his lap, a subtle way of letting him touch you. his hands will always find the skin of your ankle and calf to caress, going up and down your leg as if he was trying to lull you to sleep again.

he may or may not actually be trying to do that too, he wants you to stay here with him and only him for a while longer. and when you're sleeping, you're doing just that. it's his own little secret, though, as he'd never confess these underhanded methods he uses to monopolize your time and attention.

and its usually at times like that: the light pouring in through the opened window, the cups of steaming coffee in front of you two, that skin to skin contact, when suguru feels the most thankful for having you.

you make the mundane mornings something worth living through. he doesn't have to struggle and find reason to get out of bed, not when he has you there to hold his hand through the motions of it. you make his life exciting and he loves you dearly for all that you unknowingly do for him.

"hm, love you, [name]," he'll say out of nowhere.

it makes your head lift up from the couch cushion and away from your phone screen. he catches your e/c eyes with his own, smiling softly at your adorable face.

"love you too, suguru, always," you easily respond, sitting up to kiss his cheek and leaving a lingering scent of coffee on his skin.

but he doesn't wipe it away, he never would.

you collpase back onto the couch cushion into your comfortable position and suguru can't help but note how homey you look.

he loves when he gets to spend his mornings with you because those are the best parts of his day.

the mundane turned special in its own way, all thanks to you and the love he has for you in his heart.

[hihhasotherfixations]

John Price headcanons sfw & nsfw

I don’t usually do headcannons so please bear with me 👉👈

I hope you enjoy them tho :3 Will I use many of these in my writing? Yes, yes I will. These are both in general as well as him with you ;3

Part 2

Sfw:

He has an entire routine for his beard. Keeps it trimmed regularly and takes very good care of it, which causes it to feel very nice and soft to the touch.

Absolutely LOVES when you’re the one doing it though. It’s a small act of love that he can never get enough of. Whether you’re the one trimming it or just putting some products in. It’s a moment where he can sit on the bath rim and have you stand between his legs - or the other way around where he props you up on the sink and stands in between your legs. He just places his hands on your hips and closes his eyes, trusting you with something so important to him. It’s a very intimate thing that he treasures.

He has reading glasses. I won’t budge on this. Square(rectangle) ones with a very thin frame. Tends to forget whenever he puts them on his head and proceeds to go searching for them for five minutes.

He is very warm blooded. Always runs hot like a furnace. A blessing in the winter, a curse in the summer. Especially because he loves to cuddle.

Has a little trinket on his desk representing each of the 141 (+ Nik, Laswell and Farah). Be it a gift they gave to him or something that reminds him of them. There’s something for everyone. It clutters the edge of his desk a bit but it’s worth it because whenever the paperwork gets too much, he can just look at the little shrine he built and smile.

His love language is physical touch and quality time. While he loves giving you gifts and being romantic too, nothing beats holding you in his arms while you cuddle on the couch or in bed.

Speaking of- this man absolutely adores you. He doesn’t think he deserves the love you give him because of the things he’s done in his life. But every day he sees you, you prove that you do love him and he wants to return that love twice over.

His biggest fear is coming home after deployment to an empty house. Finding a letter on the table stating you can’t wait for him any longer. He’d understand, of course. But it would crush him.

While we’re on the sad train already- he suffers frequent nightmares due to PTSD. Feels really guilty for waking you up but also can’t stop himself from seeking your comfort after one of them - craving it. If you allow him to (he wouldn’t bring it up unless you suggested it), he’ll call you if he’s out on deployment or at base. Give him that privilege to phone you awake just to comfort him? There is nothing that man won’t do for you anymore.

He is terrified of being the one to leave you too though. He knows that if he’s ever faced with the option to sacrifice himself for one of the 141, he would. But it also breaks his heart because it would mean he’d leave you for them. He tries not to think about it like that, but it’s a constant conflict in his mind.

While he’s probably more likely to be a dog person, I can also really see him with cats just curled up on his chest. Once again, this man is always warm. The little felines will search him out like a bloodhound, preferring him over laying by the radiator.

THIS 👏 MAN 👏 CAN 👏 COOK 👏

And he loves to do it too. His idea of a hobby is either reading, building models or cooking. You can often find him in the kitchen with a cook book, making a five star meal. Loves to see your reaction to the taste of it, makes him proud of himself.

Also, yeah, he likes building models :3. Miniatures. In his spare time you can find him on the couch, bent over the coffee table with his reading glasses perched on his nose while he’s building a ww2 bomber plane out of matchsticks from some random pattern he found online. He has very steady hands and it causes the models to always look fantastic. His best and biggest work is a ship in a bottle from a kit you gave him for an anniversary between you two. He only works on that in short increments to make sure he doesn’t screw it up - it’s about 2/3 done. You’ve repeatedly tried to get him to share his work online but he always gets bashful and refuses.

If he ever got the chance to do it together with the team though?? He’s gonna be beaming about that single evening for a week straight.

His favourite colour is dark green, like the forests :)

This is less of a headcannon and more just snippets of canon proof that I found. But he can speak English, Russian, Arabic and Spanish. Maybe even more.

He’s a tea person. Can’t stand coffee. It’s not about the taste, simply that every time he tried it, it gave him a headache.

When he first introduced you to the team, he was very nervous. Really wanted them to like you. So when Soap immediately took you into a hug and thanked you for ‘taking care of the old man’, followed by Gaz introducing himself with a warm smile and a praising regalia of the things he’d heard from Price, he couldn’t be happier. And when he at one point saw you at the kitchen table with Ghost, talking calmly and laughing with the hulking man who’s tension had dropped from his shoulders? He knew you were the one.

Loves going on double dates with Laswell and her wife too. You’re all good friends and it’s a chance to truly unwind and just catch up with Kate outside of work.

Please for the love of all that is holy, take a bath or shower with him. He ADORES them. Really wants so bad to take care of you. Will do your whole cleaning routine for you if you let him. If it’s something he’s not used to? Teach him, he’s very eager to learn.

All in all, this man just loves you so much. He finds himself so so lucky that you chose him of all people as your partner. Whether you’re civilian or military, he’ll protect you with life and limb. Literally.

So, those were the sfw thoughts bouncing in my head. I hope you liked them. Now we’re moving onto the spicy stuff. Please respect the banner, thank you and more stuff for this man is coming! ^^

Nsfw:

He is an ass man. All the way. Don’t get me wrong, he LOVES your thighs, seeing the way his fingers indent the flesh when he squeezes, being buried between them - it’s heavenly. But there is just something about your ass that he can’t get enough of. If his eyes aren’t on it, then his hands are.

He won’t randomly smack your ass - doesn’t really sit right with him, doesn’t find it proper (except for certain situations ;3). But dear god does he always have a hand on your ass to squeeze if he gets the chance. Walking somewhere together? If he can, he’ll slide his hand from your back/waist down to your ass and hold there. Sitting on his lap? You already know it, his hand is on your ass, keeping you in place. Brushing past you? One hand on your waist, one hand on your ass while he apologises and squeezes past.

A gentle over a rough lover. While he can go both ways, he prefers to go slow and deep. Watching your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you, hearing every noise you make.

This man is an absolute pleasure dom. He gets off on seeing you get off. There’s plenty of nights where he solely focuses on you and doesn’t cum himself.

Doesn’t like the word daddy but for the love of god PLEASE use honorifics. Call him captain and sir and you’ll have an entirely different man on your hands.

Prefers giving over receiving oral. There’s just something about working his tongue and mouth on you that never fails to make him groan against you - even if his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Will always properly prepare you. He doesn’t like hurting you. He’s big and he knows it so he doesn’t want to take any chances.

While he doesn’t mind quickies (in his office is a favourite), he prefers the actual thing. Like stated before, he wants to focus on you and give you all the pleasure he can and a quicky just doesn’t allow for that.

For those instances where you rile him up enough to forego his gentler side however? He knows how to work you. He can push every button you have and have you seeing stars while he fucks the life out of you. Don’t expect to be standing on strong legs the day after.

Man has stamina for DAYS. Prefers to make you cum multiple times before he cums himself. Need a moment in between orgasms to recover before you can go again? That’s okay, you can cockwarm him while he waits.

Speaking of cum. It’s thick, potent and by god he cums a lot. Properly stuffs you if you let him.

Big on marking you. Loves leaving bites, hickeys and handprints. Give him the same too. Scratch marks, bite marks, hickeys. He loves checking his body over in he morning to see what you left.

He has quite the libido on him. He can’t help it, you’re the most inviting and enticing thing in his eyes. Bend over to pick something up and his cock can already be hardening in his pants.

He’s very considerate of your wants and needs though. If you don’t want to have sex, he’ll cuddle you and hold you instead. If you’re not into a certain thing, he’ll refrain on doing it next time. Very much wants to make it a time of pure pleasure and love for you, because that’s what it is for him too.

Very into kisses. Sloppy, long kisses where you moan and whine into his mouth. Better yet if you muffle your moans in his mouth while he fucks you.

Favourite positions are missionary, mating press, doggy style, lotus and spooning sex. He loves them for different reasons.

Missionary because of how close he can be, feeling your legs wrap around his waist while all of him touches all of you.

Mating press because of how deep he can hit and keep such control. He can see your face contort in pleasure while folding your legs up and holding you down.

Doggy style is obvious as to why. But he also really loves watching the way your back arches with this one. He can hold onto your hips and just let his eyes rove your body.

Lotus he loves a lot when cuddles on the couch evolve into more, or when he’s in his office and the need arrises for you both. Just having you seated on his lap, your legs around him, body pressed so closely into his while he gently fucks up into you? Heaven.

Spooning sex? You mean cuddles + sex? Hit. Him. Up. He absolutely loves fucking you like this in the morning. Lazy, tired, properly waking each other up with pleasure.

If you’re into it and allow him to, he’d even actually wake you up like that. Big on somnophelia like that for the thought of pulling you out of your dreams and your sleep with pleasure. If he gets to the stage where he’s opened you up and his cock is filling you without you waking up until then, he’s oh so proud of himself. Would only do it if you’re comfortable though.

Very big on cockwarming. Watch a movie together on the couch and let him rest his cock in you from behind. Can evolve into spooning sex on the couch while making you try to keep your attention on the movie. His hand on your chin, keeping your face pointed to the screen while he whispers against your ear.

I said it before, he’s big. Long and thick and knows how to use it well. He’s a very hairy man all over but he keeps it neatly trimmed down there.

The h a p p y t r a i l of this man. Run your nails over it and it instantly sends blood rushing into his cock.

Overall, John will fuck you whenever he gets the chance. And by the gods he will show you what it’s like to be truly worshipped.

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to interact or send me any asks, I’d love to chat ^^

Part 2

[r0semaryt3a]

Hiiii, could I please ask for how you think the Phantom Troupe would act to being hugged / held by their S/O for the first time? Thanks 🥰

WOAH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE-

It’s been done for like months now I just entirely forgot to post it I’m so sorry Anon.

-

I’m here for the fluffy ideas (I will warn, I feel like these are a tad Ooc as this is mainly based on my own personal headcannons woven into snippets of what we see in HxH) it’s nice to write them!! I’m gonna admit I haven’t written anything in a dang hot minute so this was: interesting to proofread.

Characters: Chrollo, Feitan, Pakunoda, Shalnark (I know that’s not a lot compared to my other 2 but I was flagging so hard for ideas)

Chrollo

Despite his occasional interest in domestic life and the comforts that came with it, Chrollo never pushed for physical contact.

You’d sat down together before, reading under candlelight, but had never really been lovey dovey. It wasn’t a prevalent concept within the Troupe.

Which is why, when you’re sat beside each other -both enthralled in your own separate texts- a slight jolt races through him as your palm meets the top of his hands (your thumb absentmindedly tracing circles). It was nothing major: nothing that was noteworthy. his eyes barely left the page before him, but, it was nice.

However, when your book settles on the floor and your arms wrap around him. Well, that he can’t not notice. At first the scene is quite awkward, or to him, it’s not like he’s never been hugged before: more the lack of preparation. Chrollo’s shoulders were raised and his hands seemed to struggle to find their place. It’s not like you’d particularly notice this, the small fumble is a fleeting moment.

Once the initial shock had settled though, the two of you lay comfortably together. His head resting agaisnt yours and yours resting agaisnt his shoulder.

Let me tell you, though he may not have shown it, his heart skipped a couple beats. Having you agaisnt him, arms laying around his waist, it was a slice of domestic bliss he truly savoured. The life his city had given him was a life he did cherish, but the spark of normalcy you provided was always a treat. (You’d later find out: this would be a regular occurance anytime you read together; any attempts to protest against the idea would be immediately shot down.)

Feitan

Feitan isn’t big on touch. Never has been.

He prefers all his limbs free to move, he’s an agile person who heavily values his own self autonomy and being able to react in a matter of milliseconds. Nothing more than simple handholding (for no more than a specified 3 minutes 24 seconds) has passed between you two.

So, when you practically jump at him with open arms: he seizes up.

Seriously, you almost gave him a heart attack.

“Off.” “Off now.” Is all that would be said as he tries to pry you off from whoever you’d latched on. Safe to say: the first time you give him a hug is certainly an interesting event.

Don’t get me wrong, you don’t miss the way his eyes dart towards you; and how almost immediately his body eases once the initial shock had faded. Nor do you miss the way: he does indeed reciprocate the act.

A mixture of happiness and annoyance fill him in equal measure. On one hand: the sudden contact had dusted his skin a slightly reddish hue, for all his protests, Feitan’s well aware it’s a show of comfort and given your relationship: it’s not an action he particularly hates. On the other hand? No.

This moment does however, spark the slow build up to your first “proper” hug (and the many more things that would follow)

For now though? It’s best you don’t try that again. For a while.

A long while.

Shalnark

Surprisingly tense.

You’d think a member so seemingly well composed would be better equipped to hug his partner. But, no!

It takes about a minute for him to actually reciprocate the hug, a series of awkward pats meeting your back before he (not at all subtly) peels you off of him.

It’s almost like the action completely resets him, as in a matter of seconds he’s laughing and pulling you in for another hug. The scene is…sweet enough. Though, the action is swift with the two of you parting (again) and Shalnark instead slipping his hand over yours: fingers intertwining as he began to jump from topic to topic.

Physical touch (especially that of unprompted physical touch) is an odd spot for Shalnark. Sometimes, he loves it! A goofy grin is sure to paint his face as he reciprocates the action. Sometimes, it seems like a completely foreign subject to him.

Pakunoda

This woman adores you.

Completely and utterly.

The second your arms wrap around her: she is beaming and quick to reciprocate the action.

Arguably the most openly emotional. It may just be a hug but it makes her heart flutter! Her arms come to rest upon shoulders as she pulls you in close, the act a rather jovial scene. A simple smile is painted upon her face the whole time, it’s honestly quite surprising that such an act could light her up like a child on Christmas.

Any surprise your hug may have sparked is almost immediately washed away the second she realises what’s happening.

As with any of the members: her lightbulb moment is slow. None of them are particularly touchy individuals after-all. However, Paku is certainly the quickest in her return of your hug.

After the moment you’ll find her fingers laced between yours more often than not..

—

I feel like there’s more I could do with this idea but I’m entirely sure how to lay it out in the scenario/headcannon based format these are usually in, so, who knows! If someone wants a oneshot of the idea with a specific troupe member I’ll be happy to deliver-

[marvel-ous-m]

The Stuff of Our Lives

Written for @steddiemicrofic June Prompt: Stuff | WC: 483 | Teen and Up Audiences | Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Eddie Munson Has a Bad Father, Flight of Icarus Lore Mentioned

“Do you need help with your other things, babe?” 

Steve looked at the boxes in the back of the van in response to Eddie’s question, mentally reviewing the various contents of each. 

Two for clothes, one for books, tapes, and movies, one for trinkets, and one for miscellaneous shit. 

“Nope! This is it.” Steve caught Eddie’s eye through the rearview mirror and smiled, then closed the van doors. He circled the van and climbed into the passenger seat, not noticing how Eddie’s responding smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Are we moving the rest of your stuff into the apartment later?” 

Steve frowned, feeling a pang of hurt at the implication of Eddie’s question. “There’s no other stuff. Clothes, toiletries, trinkets. That’s all there is, all I have.” 

Eddie’s eyes darted back to the rearview mirror, glancing at the five boxes that took up almost no space in the van. “No furniture or anything?” 

Steve shrugged. “I figured I’d just buy that from the secondhand shop. My parents are already pissed I’m moving out. My dad would, like, track me down if he found out that I took anything else.” Steve gave a forced laugh, which was silenced a beat later when Eddie’s hand rested on top of Steve’s knee. They fell quiet for a few minutes as Eddie carefully navigated the roads to their apartment. 

Finally, Eddie spoke. “A couple years ago my house burned down. I saved a few of my mother’s records, some books I’d had since I was a kid, but the rest wasn’t salvageable.” 

“Fuck, Eddie, I-”

“My dad didn’t care, but I did. Stuff isn’t forever, and to someone else it may just be a pile of junk, but to me, it’s a physical representation of a memory, and I can think of nothing more... significant than surrounding yourself with those memories. I had some other stuff at Wayne’s when that happened, and have made more memories since, better ones, but it was still hard to let go of those memories in that house.” 

Steve was at a loss for words, and Eddie continued. 

“I know your parents aren’t the best, that they think of things as having monetary value and not much else, but I guess what I’m trying to say is, even though you don’t have much stuff right now, that just means that we have the opportunity to get more stuff together, right? To fill our home with memories of us. You won’t be surrounded by memories of them anymore.” Eddie paused, then grimaced. “Sorry if that, like, makes zero sense-” 

Steve placed his hand on top of Eddie’s, his eyes wet with emotion and his heart warmed by Eddie’s words. “No, I get it. Our stuff, our memories.” Steve smiled. “I can’t wait to get stuff with you, Eds.” 

Eddie glanced over at Steve, offering his boyfriend a soft smile. “Same here, baby.” 

[fanficsformyfaves]

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever Pt.1

Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Prostitution, Mentions Of Abusive Pimp and Past Trauma, Confessions

PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

As we stumbled into her bedroom, our hands were all over each other, as our lips met in yet another heated exchange. I pull away briefly to get on my knees, when she stops me.

"Not tonight", she exhaled,

I pout playfully.

"You never let me go down on you"

"Cause that's my job"

My eyebrows furrow at the irony of that sentence.

Rhea had been my main client for the last year. She'd always pay the most, which got her the longest sessions, so I wasn't complaining...except for the fact that I was getting attached.

I couldn't deny it. From the first night we spent together, I knew she wasn't just a regular client. We'd just got done going at it for hours and just when I go to gather my clothes, she stops me.

"You don't have to leave yet", she breathes out,

Leaving me confused.

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, we could just lay here a while"

This was a first. As obvious as it sounded, I've gotten accustomed to being hastily shoed away right after my sessions, that I was genuinely caught off guard.

"Are you sure?"

"Why not? Do you have any other clients to attend to?"

"Not tonight", I answered,

Suddenly overcome with a new found shyness.

She offered a small smile, before taking me by the hand back to bed. The rest of the evening, I laid in her arms, as she slowly caressed the expanse of my back. We didn't talk or do much of anything past that, besides enjoy the gentle silence and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt like a person again.

Not just entertainment for someone's pleasure or something to be used. A person.

I know that might not make much sense, but when you've spent so long feeling like you've had to fight for your life everyday, the simple things remind you that it's worth living.

But that in and of itself was a double-edged sword. I couldn't get too used to the comforts I find, cause I knew it was only a matter of time before it gets taken away from me or I end up ruining a good thing for myself. I knew the pains of being used and left behind like trash on the road and I couldn't allow myself to go through that again.

When the morning came, we were still entangled in each other's limbs under the sheets and as much as I wish I could just stay in that moment for longer, I knew my boss would get pissed at me if I missed an appointment.

So with that, I carefully slipped out of her grasp and got dressed, before leaving.

It didn't take long before she booked me again for the following Saturday.

And the one after that and the one after that. With each passing meet, we slowly got to know each other past the physical things like her job, her interests, etc.

"Why'd you get into wrestling?" I asked,

As she lit my cigarette for me.

"Well, I had to do something with this strength...besides carrying pretty girls like you into my room", she teased,

Bringing a blush to my face.

"You say that to all your girls", I challenged,

"No...just my favorite"

Her thumb gently tracing back and forth on my thigh.

Yes, the actual sex was good, but nothing beats what happens afterwards. The talks, the cuddling, the smoking on her balcony. It was all I could want and more.

Which only made it all the more harder to swallow the feelings that were desperately trying to claw their way out of me. I even asked my boss if he could start booking me with other people instead for the sake of not jeopardizing anything, but of course, that wasn't how things worked.

"You're making demands now? You think you're someone special?"

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"You want this job?"

"Yes, but-"

"Tough shit, then. You take what I give you or you walk. You need me more than I need you. I don't care how pretty that face is. You ain't getting special treatment", he said,

Slamming the door in my face.

I was just gonna have to figure it out on my own, whilst pretending like everything was fine, which brings us back to where we were now.

"Plus, you'll ruin the surprise"

She slips my top off over my head, before helping me out my skirt.

"Look at you", she whispered,

Pulling me in by hips, before kissing me once more.

She eventually backed me up against the bed, whilst I unbuttoned her blouse. My eyes wander up and down her inked skin, as my tongue swiped over my top lip in anticipation. I licked a stripe all the way up her abdomen, before eventually meeting her mouth with mine. Her fingers get a grip on my roots, gently pulling my head back to leave wet kisses against my neck.

One thing about Rhea is that she's passionate in the way she touches. She wants me melting before she even truly got started.

She reaches behind me, undoing my bra, as I worked to get my underwear down. I then tug at her sports bra, signaling that I wanted it gone, to which she tugs it off and drops it at our feet. My mouth immediately wraps around one of her stiff buds, causing quiet groans to escape her smeared lips.

"That's it", she praised,

Cradling my head and gently sitting me down. I undo her jeans and pull them down, revealing the surprise in question.

"When did you get this?"

"Came in this morning", she said answered,

Brushing a strand behind my ear.

It was a good length and the thickness was sure to leave me feeling this night well into tomorrow. She's used toys on me before, but nothing quite like this.

"Mind getting it ready for me, darling?"

I chew at my bottom lip, looking up at her with a mischievous grin, before taking the strap into my hand and running my tongue over the tip.

Her eyes stared daggers into my bare skin, taking in every second of the little show I was putting on. Eventually, she pulls away and gets me on my hands and knees. I hear shuffling and just as I go to turn to see what she was doing, I feel her tongue press against my soaked heat. I let out a gasp, feeling the cold metal of her piercing rub against my clit.

Her fingers began rubbing up and down my entrance and with no resistance left in the way, she pushes two digits into me, pressing directly against my sweet spot.

"Oh, God!", I cried,

"He can't hear you", she smiled against me,

Sending chills up my spine.

She spends a good few minutes between my legs bringing me closer and closer to edge and at the very last second, she pulls away with a huff. I whine at the loss of her touch, but she was quick to soothe me.

"Patience, love", she exhales,

Wiping her mouth of my taste and reaching over to shove them in my mouth. I couldn't have accepted faster.

"So good", she says,

Pressing kiss after kiss against my shoulders and back, whilst lining up the toy with my slit. She thrusted into me in one swift motion, shamelessly ripping a scream of her name out of me.

It wasn't long till her momentum picked up and she was repeatedly hitting the spot I needed most. The tight grip she had on my hips would surely leave marks, but did I care? No. I was so engulfed in the pleasure, that all possible consequences ceased to exist.

She then reaches under me and began toying with my already-sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Rhea!", I cried out,

Grabbing behind for one of her hands.

I was at the brink of coming fully undone and it didn't help that her pace only grew more relentless with each pound.

"I'm here, darling", she groaned.

Unbeknownst to me, her own core was rubbing against the harness, meaning she was also chasing a high of her own.

"God, the things you do to me", she praised,

Biting down on my skin, which added even more fuel to the fire that was consuming me whole. The knot in the pit of my stomach was on the verge of snapping apart and I knew she could tell I was close.

"Do it. Fuck, cum!", she moaned,

And with that, I was hurled over the edge along side with her. She kept going, allowing me to ride the orgasm to its last legs, before we both fell against the sheets.

I desperately tried to catch any breath my lungs would allow, as she did the same, holding me in her arms. It took a few moments, but eventually, my vision found its way back to me, despite still seeing stars from how intense it all was.

After allowing me to fully calm, she gently pulls out, making me whine at the sore emptiness.

She soothed my aches with a few quiet hushes, whilst turning me to hold my frame in her arms.

"You did so well", she reassured,

Kissing me softly.

The remainder of the night we had left was spent with her just holding me.

Something about tonight felt different. She was more quiet compared to how she usually was.

"Something on your mind?", I asked,

Looking up into her eyes.

"Nothing. Just you"

There goes my heart again, drumming against the walls of my chest.

"Could I ask you something?"

I nodded against her bicep, not tearing my eyes away from hers.

"Do you ever wish it could just be this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just...you and me?"

My heart went from beating at the speed of light to a sudden pause.

"Rhea"

I sit up, pulling the comforter to cover myself.

"I've just been thinking about it", she continued,

"I like you, (Y/N). It's all I've been able to think about"

"You don't mean that"

"I do", she takes my hand into hers,

"That isn't how this works", I sighed.

I could tell she could sense the reluctancy and indecision in my voice.

"We'll never know if we don't try", she argued,

And at this point, I could feel myself holding back tears threatening to spill.

"You pay for my time and I service you. That's it"

She turns away and that's when I knew it was over. I managed to destroy what could be my last shot at something worth living for.

"I'm sorry", I said,

Stepping out of bed.

Not wanting wallow in the mess I made any longer, I simply just got dressed and left without another word. As painful as it was to go for the very last time, I knew it was for the better.

Or so I thought.