#and he’ll be tucking your hair behind your ear all gentle

[bubbledtee]

something in me thinks that if you were dating him, modern!80s!james would call you “honey” when you’re alone together.

[luveline]

Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3

Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much

tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k

Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him. 

When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is. 

“And… kiss!” 

Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much. 

“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.” 

“I’m getting good at bugs.” 

To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs. 

“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.” 

“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?” 

“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle. 

“I’m not a baby.” 

“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it? 

The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy. 

“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no. 

She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap. 

“So they’ll last longer,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”

“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.” 

“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.” 

Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?” 

“Really clean.” 

“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.” 

“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.” 

“But you’re home next week.” 

Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except… 

He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too. 

“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.” 

Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.” 

“Are you kidding? You love swimming.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.” 

“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.” 

“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.” 

Spencer laughs. “What?” 

“I texted her.” 

Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?” 

“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.” 

“How could you know that?” Spencer asks. 

“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?” 

“She said she’s coming over.” 

“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?” 

“She said five thirty.” 

Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.” 

Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked. 

He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up. 

She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too. 

“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door. 

She smiles wider. “Yes!” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them. 

You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle. 

“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?” 

“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!” 

Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.” 

Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume. 

“Dad says I smell good too.” 

You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.” 

You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful. 

“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”

You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend. 

“I missed you,” Amy says. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?” 

Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch. 

“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?” 

Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.” 

Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously. 

“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.” 

“I don’t know what got into me.” 

“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.” 

He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place. 

“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?” 

“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?” 

“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek. 

Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another. 

“Oh, no,” Amy says. 

Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand. 

“Now you gave Y/N cooties.” 

Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!” 

“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.” 

You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!” 

Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.  

“Kiss?” Amy asks. 

“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.

“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.

[joemama-2]

this is not how you imagined your friday night would go.

you thought you’d be watching the stars by now after a nice dinner. maybe some compliments, maybe even a small kiss shared. or some held hands.

but no. because currently you’re seated on the expensive couch, eyes fixated on some random nature documentary because you don’t have the courage to face the six year old boy to your left and demand him to stop staring.

you like kids, but this one oddly makes you nervous, scared almost.

your date is in the bathroom taking way too long and you’re half tempted to up and leave. your posture is stiff, forcing yourself to find the screen interesting.

our of your peripheral, you can see the boy raise his spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, head tilting like you’re one of the animals being observed on the TV.

“are you the one he keeps talking about?”

confusion strikes you as you finally turn your head to face him. your titled head mirroring his own. “um…..i’m not sure.”

a part of you feels flattered by the sudden fact. is satoru really talking about you? but then an unsettling feeling takes place, one of hesitation and jealously. or is he talking about someone else?

“you have the black Cane Corso, right?”

ah, so it’s the former. you smile. “oh, yeah. that’s me.”

“what’s his name?” the little boy asks you, shifting his small body as the talk of dogs gains his attention by the second.

“sunny.”

his brows pinch together. “why sunny?”

“because he was a stray, i found him a box on a very hot day.”

he hums and nods before asking yet another question. you forget how curious children can be. “is he nice?”

you chuckle. sunny has the stereotype of being aggressive due to his breed and size, but he’s anything but. he’s your gentle giant who gets scared of butterflies and plastic water bottles. “he’s really nice, he loves meeting new people and licking.”

you playfully stick your tongue out with a look of a faux grimace. this gets the small boy to crack a hint of a smile. it warms your heart almost instantly. “you like dogs?” you ask him, voice softening.

he nods automatically. “i really like dogs, i have two dogs. one is white and the other is black.”

“oh wow,” your eyebrows raise. “that’s so cool, are they big too?”

“mhm.” he nods.

you do a small look around. “where are they?”

he simply shrugs and answers, “they only come out sometimes.”

you want to ask what he means by that, but you figure satoru would best know. speaking of, he must be shitting a big one or he’s trying to calm his nerves inside that bathroom down the hall.

the little boy hesitates, like he wants to ask another question but isn’t sure if he should. you give him an encouraging nod and he sighs. “can you bring sunny next time?”

—————————————————————

“when you said you were fostering, i assumed a pet or something. not an actual child.” you tell Satoru as he’s walking you to your apartment door.

the two of you stop in front and he takes this time to grin. “do i not look like a boy dad?”

your eyebrow raises with an unamused expression. “no, first off, you look like a girl dad. and second off, does he consider you his dad?”

“nah, not at all. more like an older brother if anything. or maybe that annoying uncle everyone hates.” he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “did he like you?”

“i hope so.” your lips purse. “i wasn’t exactly ready to pitch myself as a good person tonight to some kid.”

satoru chuckles, thumb lingering on your cheek. “don’t need to pitch yourself, just be you and he’ll like you just as much as i do. well—actually—hopefully not as much. i’d hate to have competition.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “he did mention a next time, though. wants me to bring my dog.”

“you mean that oversized human on all fours?”

your hand collides with his shoulder. he laughs and intertwines your fingers with his. “kidding, kidding. don’t get violent, at least not now.”

leaning down, his lips kiss your forehead smoothly, they linger for a few seconds before he mutters against your skin. “his names megumi, i hope you’ll get along.”

your stomach flutters during this moment, relishing in the easy and comfortable intimacy. you nod and murmur back. “of course.”

he pulls back and smiles down at you. just as he’s about to speak another cheesy line, you beat him to it.

“so….you talk about me a lot?”

[bruisedboys]

No bc I need finnick to lovingly scold me over not eating all day and make me food and just be so protectively doting. you slayed with those casual dominance headcanons

thank you gorgeous! I hope u don’t mind, I’m using your ask to post a full blurb based on the hc’s :) I already had it written when you sent this in, and it’s kind of the perfect ask for it so!! thank u <3 here’s the original drabble if anyone wants it

finnick odair x fem!reader / finnick loves you and is bossy

You’re tangled up like a pretzel on the sofa when Finnick finally gets home. He’s been out swimming all morning and you’ve been (rightfully, in your opinion) quite miserable. It’s not your fault you like him so much — he’s lovely and handsome and perfect, and a handful of hours without him has left you a bit of a mess.

He appears in the doorway, the salty breeze following him in. He looks wildly handsome, his golden hair all windswept, his eyes searching for you.

You leap up. “Finnick!”

You swoop on him and he catches you easily, laughing softly as his strong arms wrap around your upper back. He smells like the ocean, salty and crisp, fresh. He hugs you so tight your feet leave the ground.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says into your hair. You hear the smile in his voice, it’s not hard to miss, and you decide you want to see it, so you pull back. Like you thought, he’s smiling a dazzling smile that combats the sun in its brightness. He’s so happy to see you, and it makes you feel electric.

“Hello,” you say back, your voice sticky with love. You push his pretty hair back from his face, card you fingers through a rogue curl and tuck it behind his ear. His hair’s still thick with salt — hopefully he’ll let you wash it for him tonight. “I missed you.”

Finnick’s grin grows impossible wider. “Mm, I can tell.” He takes his face in your hands, thumbs dragging across your cheekbones. “I missed you, too, pretty girl. What’d you do while I was gone all day, hm?”

You hum something incoherent. You’ve barely heard his question, too caught up in his soft touching, his gentle voice and his lovely names. Your eyelids flutter under his affections. He touches you like you’re something beautiful made of marble, like you’re not just a girl. He certainly doesn’t make you feel like just a girl.

Finnick laughs at your obvious pleasure, your inability to answer his question. “Sounds interesting,” he teases. He gets his hand under your chin and tilts you up gently to look at him properly. “Did you eat already, sweet thing?”

You think about it and realise you honestly can’t remember if you even ate at all today. You shy, because you know what Finnick’s reaction will be. “Um. No?”

Finnick raises his eyebrows. “No? Did you eat at all?”

Barely. You were too busy missing him to think about something so unimportant as food. Has it even been lunchtime yet? “I had half an apple for breakfast,” you admit.

Finnick sighs. His arms drops to your waist, warm and heavy. “It’s half four, honey,” he says. Way past lunch time, then. “You know that’s not good enough.”

He’s only telling you off because he cares, but you still feel awful when he looks at you like that. “Sorry,” you say quietly.

“Hey, don’t be. It’s okay.” He chucks you under the chin and smiles at you. “Sit down, I’ll make you something, okay?”

Finnick starts to move away. You follow, eager to be near him. “I’ll help.”

He looks at you, raising a quizzical brow. “No, you won’t.”

“But—“

“Sweetheart.” He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, pressing down lightly. “I said no. I’ve got it.”

There’s a sort of sternness to his tone that makes your stomach churn. You imagine arguing back would only result in more of it, and though you actually do quite like when he tells you what to do, you don’t want to irritate him. Still, you pout at him dramatically before stalking off to the sofa again.

You hear Finnick chuckling at your dramatics as he disappears into the kitchen. You resume your position of miserable pretzel, curled up and sulking while you listen to the sounds of pots and pans, the tap running, the stove being switched on. It takes less than ten minutes before you get bored and wander into the kitchen. Finnick’s at the sink washing carrots, his back to you, with all the ingredients for your favourite soup laid out on the counter.

You try to be as inconspicuous as possible as you pull out a chopping board and a knife. You only get so far as to have them both in your hands before Finnick’s on you like a hawk.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding exasperated but unsurprised. He comes up behind you to take the knife from your hand, sets it on the bench and then turns you around by the shoulders. He pushes you back towards the living room. “Do you ever listen?”

Even though he’s technically scolding you, you can hear the amusement in his question. He’s not mad. You might even say he’s having fun.

“Finnick,” you whine, struggling to stay put with his manhandling. You dig your heels into the floor, though you know it won’t work because he’s really strong when he wants to be. “Can I at least sit with you? It’s lonely without you.”

Finnick stops in his efforts to steer you out of the kitchen. There’s a pause, and then he sighs, and you know you’ve won.

“Alright, yes,” he says, in a tone that suggests admitting defeat. “Fine, you can sit with me.”

You spin around in his arms, pleased.

“But you’re not allowed to lift a finger,” he says, hands on your shoulders keeping you firmly in place. “I’ll do the cooking. You just sit and look pretty for me, okay?”

You beam. At least it’s something. And at least you get to sit with him, if anything. “Okay.”

Finnick looks at you with something akin to amused affection for a handful of seconds, and then shakes his head, smiling. “You always get your way, don’t you?” He asks softly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. His warm hand strokes a path down your neck and over the slope of your shoulder.

You want to tell him that it’s not your fault he’s always giving you what you want. You don’t think that kind of attitude would bode well for you being allowed in the kitchen.

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: (dark lite) heir!jacaerys x afab servant!reader

cw: sweat/jace being a weirdo about it, dubcon, frottage, implied virginity loss, intentional use of minimal valyrian & i used a translator so don’t come for me, implications of jace intending to marry reader with or without their consent/reader thinking this is just sex but 💀, he didn’t say it but he would kill his family to make you queen, power imbalance (sorry y’all i just like it), wrote this at a vibrator’s pace (/j) so there are zero thoughts behind it

wc: 888 (✨🕯️)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not translate, repost, or give ai my work

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“I am not certain about this, Jace…” You mumble, tugging at his sleeve so he’ll stop running towards his chambers. “I have to perform my duties in the kitchen, there is hardly time for this.”

Jacaerys Velaryon disarms you with a charming smile, too genuine and heartfelt to not return.

“No one will notice if I arrive at dinner a tad later than usual, there is no need to worry.”

The door is swiftly opened and shut in the blink of an eye. You find yourself gathered up in the prince’s arms and the swat to your bottom urges you to wrap your legs around his waist.

King’s Landing’s sweltering sun beats down on you from the window. Minuscule beads of sweat have already accumulated at your brow. Jacaerys hunches over you to lap them up as if he were a thirsty mutt, you can only wrinkle your nose in aversion.

“Perhaps we should allow ourselves time to get to know each other before we do this, my prince.” You attempt to convince him, upholding your mother’s belief that intimacy is to be between married folks only. It does not mean you shudder in repulsion at the thought of Jacaerys making love to you. Only that your shame will always best your lust in battle.

“Yet I feel as if I have already known you for a lifetime, issa rūklon (my flower).” He whispers, brushing a hand against the blossom he had tucked behind your ear. The pronunciation is not as confident as someone like his mother’s.

Innocent walks in the gardens with a prince were only a gateway to depravity, you suppose.

You breath hitches when his lips ghost along your collarbone. You would do well to remember that Jaceaery has the potential to be as much of a dragon as the rest of his strange kin.

Your trembling hands clutch at the prince’s bare shoulders. His clothes tossed aside with little care, all of his attention on you. To push him away or bring him closer… you are wracked with indecision.

“Shh, be calm. You are the safest you have ever been, in my arms and in my bed.” The constant repetition of possessiveness is heightened by the glint of gold in Jacaerys’s irises.

“Lift your hips for me, ābrazyrys (wife).” Your brow furrows at the unfamiliar pet name, but you pay it no mind.

Your flimsy dress glides down your body, the cheap strings tying it together are in tatters.

Jacaerys offers you no respite and instead brings both of your wrists together in one hand, pinning them to the bed over your head.

“I am still a maiden, my prince, I have never even kissed a man before.” You nervously say.

His adoring smile widens, “I know, it is the same reason I decline offers to visit the brothels. Our firsts were meant to be shared with each other.”

The soft glow of candlelight illuminates Jacaerys hovering over you, allowing the sexual tension to build. Your grip on his shoulders slackens and you weave your calloused fingers into his brown hair.

If only you knew how much it reminded Jacaerys of his mother’s wedding to Daemon, the looks they exchanged as they tied their souls together.

“We have all the time in the world.” He reassures you, despite the fact that it was obviously not true. “I’ll be gentle”.

You gasp as he cups your cheek with his free hand and gently drops his body weight onto you.

He seizes your lips in a bruising kiss that you would have previously thought him incapable of. The roughness of his tongue entangling with yours drives you to tighten your hold on his hair and pull it. Jacaerys moans at the infliction of pain and rubs his naked flesh against you. The friction of the slow movements are suddenly frustrating, you feel the oddest desire for him to move faster.

You whine in unison with him when you separate from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He licks it away with a flick of his tongue as he eyes bore into yours.

“Does that feel good, ābrazyrys (wife)? Your cunt is becoming wetter by the second.” He laughs, not cruelly, and continues grinding against your body.

“Yes…. my prince…. it feels …. so, mmm- amazing.” You struggle to reply, he was not even inside you and yet here you were bearing a striking resemblance to an animal in heat.

The sweat that your bodies produce makes the rutting sloppy, you have to frequently regain your hold on Jacaerys. His cock glides over your cunt and you throw your head back on the pillows. Something wet and sticky is smearing all over your belly every time he ruts against you.

This goes on until your body tenses up, your eyes widen and it is as if your gut clenches. Foolishly, you tug at his hair again but he just mouths ‘Yes!’ with his eyes screwed shut tightly as he keeps grinding. Your cunt pulses and a mix of white and clear fluid erupts from it and drips down to greet Jacaerys’s balls. His pace stutters then he glances down at the sight.

“Gods…. you served me a great deal. It is surely delicious, but I do hope that you are ready for me to return the favor.”

[thehighladywrites]

— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

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“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria

[l1tw1ck]

hi i just read you the fall of spider and i loved it

i was wondering if we could possibly get like a extended kind of version like scenes when reader comes back and is still in the process of miguel’s Stockholm syndrome and then like more of an insight for when he’s good to roam around the house

Spider-Man's Descent

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader

↳ [Part One] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Past Non-Con, Abuse Mentions, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Manipulation, Daddy Kink, Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Squirting

~ 1 week since kidnapping

Miguel turns to the sound of the door opening, eyes lighting up when he sees a plate of food in your hands. He’s been starving in the darkness of his room thanks to his last attempt at escaping.

“I want to hear two things from you, Miguel. Do you know what they are?” You ask, closing the door behind you.

“I- I’m sorry..” He says. “Thank you for bringing me food.”

“Good boy. At least you didn't forget your manners.” You place the food on the foldable table you set up. Miguel goes to get it but you stop him. “Stop. You forgot something.”

He looks at you, confused.

“Show me how grateful you are.” You free your soft cock. “Suck my cock.”

Miguel gulps. He's never given anyone a blowjob before. He’s worried you’ll punish him for not doing it right. He goes over to you and kneels. He remembers the porn videos he watched in the past and tries to mimic the actors. He holds your length in his hand and drags his tongue along it. He looks up at you to make sure he's not doing it wrong.

“I love you so much. It hurt to be away from you for so long but I couldn't let you get away with that again.” You tuck his hair behind his ear. You had to give him a harsher punishment than the last times he tried to escape to ensure he'd never do it again. Although it's not like he’d ever be able to leave thanks to your high end technology. “I don't want to hurt you, Miguel, but you didn't give me a choice. You know that, right?”

He pulls away. “I know…Daddy.” He adds the last part in an attempt to quickly get back into your good graces. “I deserved it.”

You smile. “That's right, baby. You deserved it. But you also deserve to be loved, you just have to let me.”

“...I will.” He looks at your cock then at you. “Can you help me, Daddy? I don't know how to do this..” He tries to be cute.

“Aw, of course.” You gently grip his hair. “Open your mouth.” You move him towards your cock and have him take almost all of it in his mouth. You gently move him back and forth along your length. Miguel looks up at you, staying perfectly still as you use his mouth. He kind of likes your expression. You look pleased. He likes when you're pleased. It means you won't hurt him and you’ll make him feel good too.

Miguel closes his eyes, listening to your gentle praises while he pleases you. He's really hungry right now but doing this means you'll be happy. And you being happy is good for him. He loves making you happy. He loves sucking your cock. And he’ll love swallowing your cum because that’ll make you happy.

Miguel swallows your cum and gets pulled away from your cock.

“Good boy.” You wipe the excess from his lips. “Enjoy your food.”

~ 3 days later

You walk into Miguel’s room and smile. You upgraded it a bit to make his experience more comfortable, there's a nice queen sized bed along with a dresser full of lingerie and a bunch of your shirts with piles of books on top. There's also a mini fridge full of bottles of water. “I’m back, my love.”

“The bath’s ready.” You motion for him to come over. He sighs and follows you out and towards the bathroom. He doesn't bother trying to escape, he's tried so many times. The scars on his body are proof. The two of you strip down to nothing and you climb into the bath first, Miguel following you in. He hates how much he enjoys bathing with you. It's nice to feel affection, especially after he's been punished for bad behavior. You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around him. “I love you so much, Miguel. I know I’ve said this a lot but I’m sorry for hurting you these past few days. I did what I had to to keep you with me. Please don't give me another reason to hurt you again.”

“I know.” He frowns. “I’m sorry for being bad…I deserved it.” He's said it so many times that he's actually starting to believe it.

“I forgive you.”

~ Week 3

Miguel looks down at the pregnancy test as the answer appears on it. It's positive. He starts to cry. He's been crying a lot lately. He’s always wanted a child but not this way, not because of some villain he barely knows. He doesn't want to live the rest of his life with someone he hates and pretend otherwise for the sake of his kid. He wants to be happy and he doubts that’ll be possible with you. He wipes his face and calms down. He opens the bathroom door and sees you standing in front of it, impatiently waiting for the results.

“I’m pregnant.” He says, voice shaky. You look at him with genuine happiness and bring him into a big hug.

“I’m so happy, Miguel.” You squeeze him tightly. “I can't wait.” You pull away from the hug and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you, okay? You can sleep in my bed if you want to.”

Miguel sighs. He might as well take advantage of this situation. Being pampered all the time doesn't sound too bad plus you probably won't hurt him anymore. He knows escape is impossible and he's given up on being harsh so he definitely won't give you a reason to anyway. “Okay.”

~ Week 5

Miguel turns his head to you, watching you sleep soundly after having gentle and loving sex with him. He likes watching you sleep for some reason. He turns his whole body to you and places his hand on your chest, feeling it rise and fall with each of your breaths. He wonders what you're dreaming about. He wonders if you’d be up for another round. His hand trails down your body and to your crotch, he gently cups it. He's been really horny lately. He can't fall asleep because of it. He brings his leg over your body and rubs his cunt against your thigh, his slick quickly bleeding through his underwear. He closes his eyes, mouth slightly hanging open as he indulges in his pleasure. “Ah-” He moans. “More…Need more…” He pulls off your underwear and stares at your semi soft length before climbing on top of you and seating his cunt over your cock. He drags his wetness across your cock, earning soft groans from you. He smiles. He’s making you feel good. “Daddy..” He moans.

You wake up, quickly processing what's happening. He stops when he sees your eyes open. “Don't stop, baby. Keep going.”

Miguel does just that, grabbing onto your shoulders and roughly rubbing his pussy along your now very hard cock. He digs his nails into your skin as he gets close to his release. “Clo- close- ‘M close, Daddy~” He looks so desperate and horny, he's practically burning up. He bites his lip and arches his back as he squirts. Just seeing him like this is enough to make you come as well. He looks down at you, breathing heavily. “...I love you.” He says, for the first time.

You can feel your heart racing even faster and your boner regaining its strength. “I love you too, baby.” You close your eyes as he leans in to kiss you, the both of you kissing each other passionately. He grinds down on you, clearly still horny. It's gonna be a long night for the two of you.

[mcumorningstar]

Friday Nights

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism

summary: After having Riff’s hands all over you at the dance, you can’t help but pull him away into the shadows.

a/n: mike faist world domination ‼️ I’m hyperfixating so bad rn. He’s just so gorgeous.

“Where the fuck is Riff?”

The Jets without dates shrugged from their places on the outskirts of the dance floor. Ice clenched his jaw, his date securely tucked underneath his arm.

“He’s dancing with… Y/N…” Baby John scanned the crowd of dancing couples, failing to see either one of you.

“Numbers and Action left with their girls so if anything happens without Riff here, we’re outnumbered,” Ice said pointedly to the Jets within earshot.

Mouthpiece and A-Rab nodded, as Ice and his date rejoined the dance floor.

Unbeknownst to them, you had taken Riff’s hand halfway through a number and weaved him out of the crowd underneath the bleachers.

You found privacy there and, after the past few hours of being so close to him, you couldn’t deny yourself any longer.

As soon as you were in the shadows of the bleachers, you crowded him against the wall of steps.

“We should go,” Riff panted with pink kiss-bitten lips as your hungry mouth moved to his neck, licking and sucking his sweat-salted skin.

You shook your head with a mischievous grin, “I wanna keep dancing… Just need you to myself for a couple minutes.”

“Oh yeah?” A wide smirk plastered across Riff’s lips and his eyebrows lifted, looking down at you. His strong hands gripped your hips tighter and held you close to him.

You and Riff had been going steady for a few weeks. He treated you to milkshakes at the diner, he took you dancing every Friday night without fail and you two even went to the drive-in movie theatre once.

He was certainly charming.

But you weren’t sure you were quite there yet. Riff has a special way of making your stomach swirl but the Jets had a reputation amongst your friends for being… town bikes.

“Yeah, I like seeing you like this,” You smiled, letting that hang in the silence for a moment before taking a step back, “Wanna head back?”

Riff watched you with half-hooded eyes as you straightened your appearance. His hair was mused and his cheeks were rosy pink.

Looking through the gaps between the stairs, Riff assessed the dance hall. Lonely singles sat above you, waiting to be asked to dance, their shoes tapping to the beat of the music against the bleachers.

Did he want to go back..? Riff would rather spend the rest of the night hidden away with you, but you wanted to dance so he’ll dance.

He turned back to you and stood up straight, “Let me cool off for a minute.”

The bulge in his trousers was evident as he stepped further out of the shadows. It looked sizeable and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

Riff adjusted himself and the front of his trousers, straightening out his shirt and collar.

“You need a hand?”

The words escaped your mouth before you could think and Riff almost snapped his neck turning to look at you.

Silence hung between you for what felt like eternity but was in actuality a few seconds.

“I mean… if you want,” You shrugged, only now realising that you were ready to give yourself to Riff in that way.

“Sweetheart of course I want that,” Riff took your face between his hands, “Are you sure? We can just go back to dancing.”

Wordlessly, you wrapped your fingers around his belt and pulled him closer, your hips flushed to his. His unfastened belt buckle caught against your hand as you tugged down his zipper and lowered to your knees.

Riff helped you pull his boxer briefs low enough to free his aching cock. You gasped at his size and he groaned at your reaction to him, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

He was being so gentle with you. It was hard not to give him your all right away.

You started with kitten licks and soft kisses to his shaft, running your fingers through his happy trail and settling your hand on his thigh.

The other held the base of him as your tongue traced the vein across the underside of his cock.

Riff groaned from deep in his chest, gripping a metal bar from the bleachers framework above him. His other hand flailed in the air as he struggled to decide whether to hold onto you or not.

The hand on Riff’s cock ran along his toned stomach and took his free hand in yours, interlocking your fingers, as you wrapped your lips around him and took him into your throat.

“You can take it sweetheart,” Riff encouraged, his voice thick with lust.

Bobbing your head up and down, you worked up a rhythm that had Riff tipping his head back and biting his bottom lip.

He managed to muffle most of his moans and heaving breaths but the slick sounds coming from your mouth around him were hard for him to ignore.

Luckily the lively Jazz music of the dance hall bounced around the room, concealing your noise.

“Fuck baby, you’re so good at this,” Riff praised, low and rumbling. A smile graced your face despite your mouth stretching around Riff’s thick cock.

You moaned in appreciation, the vibrations making Riff moan and buck his hips, pushing his cock deeper down your throat.

Saliva dripped down his cock onto his balls. You pulled back to catch your breath, kissing his hand before untangling your fingers from his and stroking him.

Gripping him at the base, you took him in your mouth again and worked up another rhythm to prolong his pleasure.

Sweat beaded at his temples and his chest heaved. Riff wrapped his hand around the side of your neck, his thumb tilting your head back to meet your eyes.

The sight of him above you, ruined by pleasure, made you moan. The vibrations made Riff shiver. You met his eyes and his muscles trembled, pleasure shooting through him.

“Oh baby I’m gonna cum,” Riff groaned, biting his lip. His grip on the bleachers framework tightened, his bicep bulged and the veins in his forearm protruded.

You smiled giddily around his cock and reached up to massage his balls. A sinful moan sprung from his throat and his head fell back, ropes of warm salty cum coating the back of your throat.

Swallowing everything he gave you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Riff tried to catch his breath, a sheen of sweat coated his skin.

You rose to your feet, refastening his trousers and belt before tucking his shirt in and straightening it out.

Riff wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flushed against him. His face buried in the crook of your neck and pressed soft kisses to your skin.

You stood like that for a moment before pulling away. Riff looked you over before crouching and brushing his fingers against your slightly scuffed knees.

“Worth it,” You giggled as Riff stood to his full height, towering over you. He adjusted your dress and ran a thumb under your bottom lip, tidying your smudged lipstick.

“Beautiful,” Riff whispered with adoration in his eyes.

An arm wrapped around your waist and held you close, “Ready to dance, girly girl?”

“Just one more kiss and then we dance,” You rose onto your tiptoes, meeting him halfway and kissing him with raw passion.

Riff pulled away, barely an inch, “Just so you know, I’m returning the favour as soon as you let me.”

“You’ll have no complaints from me,” You kissed him quickly and nipped at his lip before taking his hand and heading back to the dance floor.

The eagle-eyed Jets whooped as you and Riff reappeared, less put-together than when they last saw you.

“Enough’a that,” Riff was stern but in good spirits, pulling you under his arm as you giggled.

The Jets fell silent, despite mischievous smirks and knowing looks.

None of the Jet boys would ever say anything to you. Riff was their leader and he’d have their necks if so much as one bad word went against you.

You were his girly girl, his sweetheart, his.

“C’mon doll, let’s dance,” Riff grinned down at you, swerving you between other dancing couples to the centre of the room, “Wanna show you off… and then you’re coming home with me.”

At that, your mouth went dry. Riff bit his lip as he watched you swallow thickly.

After a moment to recover, a smirk twitched at your lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “One more song then we go.”

Riff dipped his head to capture your lips with his before twirling and dipping you in time with the music.

You couldn’t wait for what was to follow, and every Friday night to come.

[blakeswritingimagines]

When you fall asleep on them

Izuku Midoriya: A smile comes to his lips before he softly whispers. “You look so peaceful.” He lays there with you, his hand across your chest, listening to your slow, steady breaths and admiring how the darkness frames your face. But only a few minutes in to his musings, he can feel sleep creeping over himself as well.

Katsuki Bakugo: He pulls you closer, laying his head against you in the small moment of peace in his life. His arm goes around your waist, pulling you even closer into him. He sighs, feeling your warm breath against him even if his quirk makes him naturally warm as you both drift off to sleep together, wrapped in each other's arms.

Shoto Todoroki: He gently lifts your head off his shoulder and places you down on the bed, then he stands up to get a blanket to cover you with. He’ll tuck you in, giving a light kiss on your forehead, and then he’ll leave the room. If you’re asleep on his lap he’ll be sure to set you down in bed gently as well.

Tenya Ida: He lays his head against yours, feeling the warmth of your head against his cheek. He wraps his arms around you again, wanting to make you feel comfortable, and he closes his eyes. His heart pounds as he thinks about waking up next to you, still wrapped in your embrace, still feeling secure and happy.

Fumikage Tokoyami: He’ll brush your hair. He rubs your back and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He kisses your cheek and pulls you close with every gentle caress, and he thanks the gods or whoever is listening to him in that moment that you fell for him all those years ago. Then, he’ll rest his chin on your chest with loving eyes, feeling your heartbeat against his forehead, grateful that this is his life.

Hitoshi Shinso: The gentle rise and fall of your chest becomes a calming lullaby, and before long, your breaths are in sync with his. He feels your body relax as he leans his head into your shoulder, his eyes growing heavy. He takes a moment to soak in the warmth of your bare skin on his own, and then he closes his eyes.

Denki Kaminari: He gently nuzzles your side, his lips leaving a kiss mark behind. Then he closes his eyes with a content smile on his face and feel you against him. You’re a warm, firm, comfortable presence, one that’s perfectly attuned to his body. The steady beat of your heart feels like home to him.

Eijiro Kirishima: He strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. He caresses your soft skin, and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. He holds them close and feels your breathing against his chest. He tells you how he loves you, and how he will always be there for you, no matter what happens. He will always protect, love, and cherish you.

Mashirao Ojiro: He lays there for the next few minutes thinking about how much he loves you and how peaceful he feels in this moment even if you fell asleep on him which makes his heart pound that you’re so comfortable around him, your body against his as he wraps his tail around you. he eventually gives in to sleep. It should be noted that he is very much a cuddler.

Mirio Togata: When you fall asleep on him, he gently kisses your forehead and slides out from underneath you, making sure not to wake you. He'll usually tuck you in or wrap your blanket around them. Then, he'll curl up next to you and give you a gentle spoon as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. When you wake up in the morning, you'll find him next to you, as close as he could possibly be - for he is a hopeless romantic, and cannot bear to be without you even when asleep.

Tamaki Amajiki: He’ll gently press his lips to your brow and murmur a kiss. Then he snuggles closer, breathing in the scent of you. He presses closer against the soft part of your shoulder, hoping you will find comfort in him, too, and closes his eyes, letting a deep sense of contentment wash over him.

[luveline]

hi jade!! i love eddie and roan always, can we get a ficlet from their earlier days where roan is smaller. just whatever you want to write about, thanks love you💖

Eddie isn’t sure how you’ve ended up like this, but he’ll take it. He’s never laid in someone’s lap, at least not with a girl he was dating, never had someone like him enough to start scratching his back of their own volition. You draw sweetly gentle lines up and down the length of him with your nails, never pausing, an automatic expression of love. 

He’s pathetic, pressing his face to your stomach. He really hopes you love him. 

“Can I sleepover?” you whisper. 

“You can move in,” he mumbles. 

“You shouldn’t flirt so much.” Your hand climbs up to his hair, where you continue your awful lovely scratching. “Can I have a kiss?” 

You shouldn’t be allowed to whisper like that. Eddie turns his face away from your stomach and lifts his chin. He’s spoiled —you lean down and kiss him. He doesn’t do any of the hard work. 

“Daddy?” 

Eddie touches your face and finally forces himself to sit up. “Ro?” 

She’s wearing pyjamas you bought for her with good intention but misinformation, the legs pooling around her feet and the sleeves over her hands. Her smile showcases a row of pearly, baby teeth. She looks cute, but her hair is alarming. 

“What have you done?” Eddie asks, cringing. “Babe, are those stickles again?” 

“They’re stuck,” she says. She realises he’s alarmed and begins to panic, reaching up, “Oh no!” 

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, quickly burying his own emotions. He should’ve done so from the start, but you’d yanked his defences down and left him a slovenly mess from all your sweetness. Plus, it’s not like he’s the calmest guy in the world. “Baby, it’s fine. Come here, let me see.” 

“Wait,” she says tearfully. 

“Baby,” he says again, softer still, “come here, I’ll fix it. I promise.”

“Cross your heart?” she asks. 

Eddie pouts at her wobbly lip. “I cross my heart, Roanie. Just come sit down.” 

You squeeze his thigh with a distinct sense of pride, though he has no idea what he’s done. Roan drags herself to the couch and Eddie picks her up to sit her between your leg and his, getting a better look at the problem, red, green, and yellow stickle bricks lost in her hair. It’s not as bad as it seems closer up. 

He draws a line with tow of his knuckles across her shoulder. “It’s fine,” he says, kissing her cheek, “it’s okay, no biggie. I’ll go get a comb and we’ll brush them all out! Your beautiful hair will be fine.” 

“Thank you,” she says. 

You make a funny sound. “Aw, Ro.” You take a stickle brick into your hand carefully. “Can I help too?” 

“Please, please.” She turns her huge eyes on you and grabs your arm. “Please don’t pull.” 

“Never, babe.” 

You and Eddie take some time to pull the bricks from her hair, their tines like Velcro stuck between her dark curls. It takes ages, and she grows frustrated, but Eddie holds her hand in his and says, “Just be patient, sweetheart, you gotta wait,” while feeling especially tender. He forgets sometimes that she’s not his mini me after all, that her experiences of fear are fresh and new. “It’s going okay, Ro, it just takes ages.” 

“It’s hurting,” she whines. 

He doesn’t believe her, but maybe it is a little uncomfortable. “Do you want to take a break? You’ll have to stay really still.” 

“Please pull them out.” 

“Alright, babe.” He tucks his hair behind his ears. “Let’s do this.” 

Eventually, with Roan near tears and Eddie worried you’re overwhelmed, you untangle the three bricks from her hair and brush away the matted tangles. “Sooo silky,” you murmur, leading the comb down to her small shoulders. 

“I think we’re done. You are restored to your former glory, babe,” Eddie says. 

Roan lifts her hands up and feels along her head. “No bricks?” 

“Totally fixed.” 

Roan stands up on the couch. Eddie eyes her suspiciously, but she wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek, reminiscent of how Eddie thanks her when she’s being good. “Thank you, dad.” 

He snorts. Roan beams at him and spins on her socked foot to hug you. You don’t get a kiss. You look overjoyed anyhow, quick to wrap her up and pat her back. “Thank you,” she says. 

“You’re welcome, princess.” You meet his eyes over her hair. “You’re more than welcome. No more stickles in your hair through, right?” 

“Right,” she says with an eager nod. 

Eddie shakes his head at you. This is the third time this month. 

[shocymer]

Ref:rain

"He was young and reckless, but loving you is another exception. After all this time refrained his feelings that spilled over in the midst of rain, he only wished for you to return his favor."

Pairing : Seonghwa x f! reader

Word counts : 3,02k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , hurt/comfort, slowburns, bestfriend to lovers, TW! mention of abused, soft dom! seonghwa, gentle sex, oral (receiving), multiple orgasm, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, after care.

He is the nostalgic night, the comfort of your frantic mind, the steady shelter under the pouring rain, the warmth in the middle of snow storm, and the salvation of your helpless soul.

You know it’s too much to describe him that way, but reality never proves you wrong. Living in the countryside on secluded area with your parents’ unstable marriage is definitely driving you insane. But, there’s always something that brings the joy whenever you feels his presence. It’s him Park Seonghwa.

Best friend? No. Just friends? Both of you are knowing each other for almost the rest of your life the second you’ve started walking on the ground. Childhood sweetheart? Yeah, maybe that’s the right thing to called your friendship status with him.

Growing up with him made you realize that the dynamic between you two is a bit weird, it’s like 'close but not that close' relationship. He know what’s happen in your life and so did you, but you’re not shared everything to each other. Just like when he’ll come to comfort you that bawling your eyes out in the middle of the night on the hill back of your house. He just sitting next to you, patting your back gently until your crying subsided. Didn’t ask a single word until you wanted to tell him everything what you’ve been through.

Or he will treat your wounds in silence, only giving you one or two questions at the most just to divert his anger.

“Again?” Furrowed his eyebrows while he dabbed your wounds with the cotton soaked in antiseptic.

You only nodded as you wincing in pain everytime it touches your grazed skin. He really hate to see you like that, his jaw tighten the entire time he treated you. Well, there’s nothing you can do, you’re still a minor and still live under those parents of yours, unless avoiding your abusive father is the only option you’ll take.

He tucked a few strands of hair that fall over your face behind your ears, “It’s done. I’ll help to treat it again tomorrow, just come to me okay?” His face looked somber when you met his eyes. You sure he felt frustrated too because this doesn’t happen once or twice.

“Yeah.. Thanks Hwa.” You gave him a reassuring smile, as if to say everything was fine.

But it’s all different at school, you almost never talk to each other. Being in different class and different circles of friends, make it less likely for you to cross paths with him. Well, he's quite famous. How could he not be, he's tall, handsome, dance genius, and also quite smart academically. On top of that his personality makes him liked by a lot of his friends including you.

Sometimes he stole glances at your class, looking for your figure who is immersed in reading your favorite literature book. Only to make sure you’re fine after seeing your smiley face surrounded by your friends. He felt relieve, there’s nothing to worry about.

⁠✧

“Oh.. hi Mrs. Park, is Seonghwa home? ” A little surprised, didn't expect it to be his mother who opened the door after you were knocking for a few times.

“Yes, come in sweetie,” she invited you in, giving you a warm smile that reminds you how it’s exactly like Seonghwa’s. You stepped slowly, feeling awkward due to sudden meet with her. It’s been a long time since you visited his house, you believed it’s when you’re still in the middle school. Then both of you only met outside all the time.

After exchanged small talk, she pointed towards the stairs. “By the way, just go to his room, he’s been there since morning. I’ll make some snacks for you.” She winked then proceed to leave you to the kitchen. You only shook your head after looking at what was his mother did. But at least you feel happy that you’re so warmly accepted here unlike in your own home.

You climbed the stairs carefully before knocking on his door. “Seonghwa.. I’ts me.” Tapping your foot as you waiting for him, but no answer heard from inside. You decided to open his door only to find him sleeping peacefully with a headphone still intact to his ears. Some books were open, scattered around him. He must be tired studying all the day.

You crouched down, bringing your head closer to the same level of his headphone, wanting to hear what song that was playing. Ah, it’s the same song you listened together a few years ago. As soon as you grasp it, you hummed the melody, bopping your head a little to the left and right.

Until you turned towards him, he’d been watching you for who knows how long it is. He shifted his headphone slightly, blinking for a few times still half asleep. His fingertips slowly caress the plastered wound on your cheeks, looking at it closely with a hurt stare.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice brought him to his sense. He immediately sat on the bed, patting to his side, gestured you to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry, I overslept.” He said, while his hand is busy reaching for something inside the drawer.

Your eyes fell back to the pile of his books. “It’s okay hwa.”

Suddenly he removed your band-aid gently, then applying a thin layer of the ointment on top of your wound. His face is so close to you, make you staring to his long lashes every time he blinked. The way he showed his earnest expression was fascinated you, to the point you didn’t hear what was he said.

“Are you there?” He’s still focused treating your wound with patience.

You shook your head slightly, “Uhm sorry, can you repeat it again?”

“Well, since the graduation is near, I decided to go to college.”

Your heart dropped after hearing that. It means he’ll moved out to the city and you won’t see him for a while, leaving you alone in this small town. But of course, you’re happy for him. He got so much potential to waste if he stayed here for too long.

“You’re going too, right?” His gaze shifted into your eyes, as if expecting a reaction from you.

“I- I still think about that. I’m not sure, what I’m gonna do.” On the contrary, you know exactly what you will do. Your parents have already planned for your future, forcing you to continue their own business. You really hate being stuck with them even though you’re just turning into adult a few weeks ago.

“All.. done. I hope it won’t leave a scar.”

His words snap you back. Lowered your head, you felt ashamed that he always be by your side whenever you’re in difficult times. “Once again, thank you hwa. I wish I can return your favor.”

He smiled, tucked your loose hair behind your ears. “You don’t need too.” But then he paused for a second like there’s something clicking on his mind.

“Well actually, I’ll ask about that one day. So,” he touched your chin, “be prepared for that.”

You chuckled before slap his hand playfully, “Sure, I’ll get ready from now on.”

Both of you spent the rest of weeks together before he left. Starting from the graduation day, then talking about this and that in his room all night, and hanging out at the usual favorite places just like today. He really enjoyed your accompany, the way you dressed prettily, walking at the downtown side by side and seeing you smile at him sweetly. He’s struggling to keep the urge not to hold your empty hands that swing back and forth on your every steps. Hoping the time will pass slowly, so he won’t leave you too soon.

He decided to stop by the cafe, after spending a day looking for the things he needed with you. Sitting opposite each other at the same table, made him keep looking at your presence. He didn’t realize since when his feelings grew this big for you.

As soon as the order served, he noticed that you stirred the drink long enough, battling with your own self whether you should tell him about this matter or not.

He stopped your hand from doing it, “say, there’s something on your mind?”

His worried look breaking your defense, you took a deep breath before you tell him the truth. “I will get married”

If previously he wished for the time would pass slowly, but for now the time is completely stopped. Loud silence burst into his ear while his mind is going blank. “What?” Is the only word that left from his mouth.

“I eventually will get married, my parents told me to.” You clarified.

Right it’s always her parents, are they finally going crazy or something? She’s still young and what the fuck she’d accepted their ridiculous request gladly. He kept all of his thought, afraid of hurting you even more if he said it out loud. He clicked his tongue trying to suppress his anger. “Then, what was your exact motivation to agree with them just like that?”

“So I can get out of my house.” You took a quick glance at him, “and maybe I’ll love him as the time goes by.”

His eyes pierced through into yours that remaining unfazed. “Okay then good for you.” he’s leaning to the chair as if nothing happen, after he catch your slightly disappointment look towards his remark. He thought, there’s no point to carry on the conversation if it was your own will too.

Both of you were silent like there’s no suitable words needed to say. On the other hand, Seonghwa is still contemplating, blaming himself why he only could repair the damage but unable prevent it to happen. He’s totally mad, to the point taking his shopping bags roughly in one swoop.

“Let’s wrap it out for today, I’m tired.”

⁠✧

On the day of his departure, you thought he’ll give you a warm hug or few words as farewell. Unfortunately, what you’ve imagined never happen. He only gave you a faint smile while sitting in his car, before rolled up the door glass and drove away. It was the beginning that you feel he’s distancing himself from you.

He still responded your texts in the first months, but over the time the intensity slowly decreased. Once he replied to your text no sooner than two weeks, only contained with a short reasoning, “sorry, been busy.” It must be rough in the first year of the college, so you tried to understand.

Until you send him one about your wedding day, telling him the place and the date of events. And a month passed, there’s no single replied come from him. Your anxiety skyrocketed in a week before the wedding day, you kept checking your phone waiting for his answer. To the point you’re hating yourself that you still need him just to calm yourself down. You felt empty, all the feelings of relieved thinking that you’ll be free just disappeared. It's enough, you definitely didn’t want this.

Few hours before the wedding started, you’ve done wearing your dress and make up. There’s no time left, you grabbed the necessary things as much as you can, then immediately stormed out of your house after you told your family that you need some time alone in your room.

You keep walking aimlessly with no thoughts, ignoring people gaze to the runaway bride. Didn’t even know how far you’ve gone and just realize the rain is pouring hard ever since. Your feet ache, blistered by the heels, you can’t drag yourself anymore due to how heavy your dress soaked in the rain.

You sat down on the side of road, the tears blending in with every raindrops fall onto you. What have I done? What if I rejected them since the beginning? And most importantly, What if I patiently wait for Seonghwa a little bit longer? The thoughts of losing him feared you the most. The pain is not only on the back of your feet, but now it’s spreading into your heart. It feels suffocated that you love him truly.

A pair of black leather shoes stopped in front of you, suddenly you didn't feel the rain hitting your body. You looked up and found Seonghwa holding an umbrella. His suit is drenched despite being under it. You proceed to stand on your feet, “You here.. you finally here.” The overwhelmed feeling is breaking you down, throwing out your weak fist on top of his chest, for several times. “Where have you been Hwa.. I need you, I- can’t do this”

He didn’t budge at all still covering you from the rain. Letting you to vent out all of your burden. He brought the palm of his hands towards your cheek, caressing it gently before pulled you into the kiss. He missed you so bad, until you could feel his warm tears rolling down touched your skin. He pulled out from the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.

His reddening eyes staring deep down into your own, he sighed before closing his eyes. “First, I’m such a coward. I can’t stand you with someone else. I’m so sorry for acting so childish.” He letting out the same frustrations as you feel. Then he open his eyes, continuing his words, “I’ve always love you, from the beginning till now”

Putting your hands to the back of his neck, you pulled him closer, returning the kiss. Pouring out all of your feelings into it, hoping he’ll catch that you feel the same. I do, I love you too Park Seonghwa.

⁠✧

Warm. That’s what you feel right now. He’s behind you, wiped your back with lukewarm water after peeled off your soaked dress. Placing kisses on the side of your neck, down to your shoulder. While his another hand teasing your clit. You can’t keep your legs still due to tingling sensation on your core, splashing the water all over the floor.

It’s more than half an hour he continued to tease you in the bathtub, causing you to reach the orgasm over and over. You hold his hand, hoping he’ll stop. But it only made him flicked his fingers even faster. “Hwa.. enough..” You’ve said this for who knows how many times it is.

Pressing his lips to your ears, he letting out his honey voice softly, “Hm.. not yet.” He tugged your earlobe between his teeth, before pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped as it spread open your inside, then it curled up hitting your spot. Your body shaking violently, gripping on the side of the tub as you riding down the orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He showers you compliments every time you came undone, while kissing the back of your neck.

He decided to carry you into his arms, then lay you down on the bed slowly, starting to kiss your forehead, down to your eyes, then to your pretty lips gently as if it’s too fragile. His hand roaming around to tease your nipple by pinching it a little.

Then he’s going down, holding your thigh open while his tongue busy exploring your slicked fold. Licking it up and down, devouring the spilled juice. He looked up, eyes fixed to your face, anticipating for every expression you made. He’ll suck hard on your clit, only to make you moaning his name in pleasure.

After being satisfied with it, he sit on his knee right under you. Stroking his hard member for few times till throwing his head back as he drowning in sensation. Your inside is twitching, looking at the way his cock throbbing hard between his fingers plus those scrumptious jaw of his.

Your fingertips brushed to his knee, begging for his attention. “Seonghwa..” He turned back to you, giving you a mischievous look “Hmm?”

“Please..” Squirming your legs, you trying to scoot over him desperately. Only wanting his tip slightly to touch your swollen cunt.

He moved back a little, “Say it clearly, I don’t get what you really want.”

“I want your dick inside of me, please.”

He immediately put it into you. Bringing his hand to intertwined with yours as soon as he saw you flinched cause of the first thrust. After you feel comfortable enough, he started moving his hips in steady pace.

He kept the eye contact while pressing the forehead against each other, occasionally planting soft kisses all over your face. You could feel he’s pulsing inside of you, gradually thrusting his hard member even faster. The feelings become unbearable, as he pushed your lower stomach with one hand while the other one gripping onto your waist to keep it stay still.

You moan out incoherent mess, reaching for your own climax. Can’t control your shuddering body as you feel his hot seeds filled you up, shooting all his load inside. He’s grinding for a few times, before pulled it out, causing his cum leaked, dripping down from your pussy. He scoop it out with his index finger then pushing it back in. “Would be a shame if it’s going wasted, right?” Throwing out rhetorical question, while bringing his finger towards your mouth to let you know how he taste like.

Now you snuggle up with him, placing your head on his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly, makes you think it’s your own. His fingers played with your hair, caressing it or twirling it around delicately. The two of you, spending the time together in this warm hotel room while the rainstorm outside never stopped. Suddenly his voice breaking the silence, “So, I want you to return my favor.”

You looked up to him, “Tell me how?”

He swept your hair to the side then placing a kiss on top of your head. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Your tears fall in instant, still can’t believe the feelings are mutual. You know he always there, he always save you, and you always love him from the deepest of your heart. You nodded,

“Yes, I will.”

[yeahspider]

morning light 🫀

Ve’s note - comfort bang chan fic . alcohol and puke mention . reader is a mess and chan is there to clean her up . sparsely proofread bc im a lil drunk . enjoy !!

you knocked on what you could only hope was his apartment . but with all the liquor in your system you could barely tell if you were even in earth at the moment . your skull pounding and ear throbbing . it felt lien you were still back in the club . surrounded by people who could give a fuck rather you made it home safe or not . you leaned your head against (maybe) chris’ door . your limbs felt so heavy . you should’ve stopped after the second shot . you have work tomorrow morning for gods sake . but with the way life is going it was hard to car about the consequences of your recklessness .

you were dragged out of your spiraling thoughts by the door opening . causing you to go crashing to someone’s chest .

“it’s four in the morning . where have you been ?” you heard the disappointed voice of your roommate chris say . so you had knocked on the right door . nice . finally you did something right . you couldn’t find the words to explain to him what you had been up to all night . and even if you did you don’t have the heart to tell him . you felt him pick your body up . head falling back with the weight of your drunk .

“let’s get you cleaned up .” you could cry at the disappointment that leaked into his sigh . setting you down on what you realized was a toilet you waited until chris tapped your cheek to open your eyes . closing them back up with a groan as the white lights of his bathroom blinded you . you heard him leave as your head continued to spin . you felt the bile race up your esophagus as everyone ounce of liquor you had the past few hours came back up . sobs racked your body as you you headed hurried steps making their way to the bathroom . chris comes careening around the corner at a speed which would be comical if you weren’t thing up your guts right now . his hands found their way to your hair as he moved it out the way . hushing your cries as he rubbed your back . encouraging you to get everything out your system .

after what felt like an eternity . you lifted your head from the bowl to come face to face with a concerned chris . eyes big and watering as you apologized . humiliation filling your veins .

“you’re fine it’s okay don’t worry about it”

but it wasn’t fine . you weren’t fine and you hadn’t been for a long time . you take the cup of water he offers you . gulping down the water hoping it would quench the turmoil in your gut . the next few minutes consisted of chris brushing your teeth , removing your makeup . and helping you change into and old tshirt of his . every tough to your skin was gentle . as if you were glass on the verge of breaking . he tucked you into your bed as you continue to sniffle . as he presses a kiss your forehead and turns to leave you grab his arm . silently begging he’ll catch the hint and lay down with you .

crawling into bed behind you he tucks your body into his own . your head rests on his chest as more sobs leave your body . you feel so protected and cared for and it tears you up inside . he deserves so much more than you could ever give him . kisses are pressed into your hair as you feel the strings of unconsciousness tugging on you .

“it’s okay my love sleep i’ll be here when you wake .”

[joelmillerlover123]

Need You Now | JOEL MILLER X READER

One shot! Inspired by Need You Now by Lady A. so much angst. our emo king.

Summary : You came home drunk and you just needed to call your ex. Of course he came over.

Word count : Like 1k.

Pre/No Outbreak AU. Fem!Reader sorta. Emo!Joel. Crying!Joel. Yeahhhh buddy.

So sad so heartwarming.

You knew it was a mistake to let your friends drop you off at your house after a night out. Once you were alone, you were no longer a happy drunk. You cried about the weirdest things. But tonight, you were crying for a legitimate reason. You remembered why sober you went out that night.

Pictures from your previous relationship were scattered around your room, you were cleaning out him from your life. Your heart lurched. You saw his handsome face in the pictures, touching a gentle thumb over his smile. You felt the tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

What the hell? Why can’t you call him?

Your friends aren’t here and they don’t have to know.

You fish your phone from your purse, typing his name into the contacts bar. The line begins ringing and within one ring he picks up, an on edge “Hello?” greeting you. You forgot the time. Quarter past one. He probably thought you were in jail or stranded on the side of the road somewhere, you never called this late.

“Hey Joel,” You tried to say without letting your breath shake, “It’s fine. I’m fine, I'm just…”

“Yeah,” He said, finishing your thought, “I know. I miss you, too.”

“Well, come over, will you?” You bit your lip, anxiety tearing at you. What if he said no? You couldn’t stand it.

Silence filled the other line and you almost said something else but he said, “‘Course. Be there in five. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” You say, letting the words hang in the air on your end, only taking the phone from your ear when he eventually hangs up. You didn’t even care that this wasn’t the ‘right’ thing to do, you just needed him. And now.

The two of you broke up for stupid reasons. Stupid in your mind. Not stupid in his. He said he was ‘taking your future from you.’ He was always so worked up about the age gap. It was only like 15 or so years, nothing crazy. He said he didn’t want any more kids, which is fine with you. Really. You didn’t care. You loved Sarah and the both of them would always be enough for you. But Joel wasn’t convinced. It was always a sore spot in your relationship and when he finally broke things off because of it, there were a lot of tears from both ends.

A knock on the front door of your apartment alerted you that he was here. He refused to text you when he was here.

“Why would I send a text when I can just knock like a normal person?” His words echoed in your head from your first couple dates. It earned a laugh from you, loving his old southern values.

You open the door and there he is, in all his beautiful glory. He was so beautiful. You could never get over it.

He saw the tears in your eyes and his look went from his usual stoic and stony to concerned in a flash. “Hey,” He said softly, “What’s wrong, darlin?” He moved to take you in his arms, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Just… missin you,” You replied. You realized you still had your going out clothes on. A black lacy tank top and blue jean shorts. Your makeup was heavy but never dark. You knew your mascara was probably running.

“Hey, hey,” He said, embracing you and letting your cheek rest on his chest, “Don’t get all worked up over me.”

You pulled back to look at him, searching his eyes. “Joel. Of course I’m gonna get ‘worked up’ over you. I miss you. So much,” You said with as much seriousness as the tequila would let you muster.

“I know. I’m sorry,” He said, tucking a hair from your face, “But you won’t miss me forever.”

Silence came between the two of you. An understanding that he won’t listen, the stubborn bastard.

“You’ll move on, eventually,” He said quietly, “Find you a nice guy, a nice young man. He’ll be responsible and kind and will take care of you. If he’s smart, he’ll worship the ground you stand on.”

“Joel,” Your voice shook, more tears pooling in your eyes, “I don’t want a nice, responsible young man,” You say, a sob threatening your throat, “I don’t want anyone besides you. Please. I love you.”

Now it was his turn to cry. His eyes turned glassy but he quickly blinked it away, knowing if he cried that he would stay. He wouldn’t be able to leave you.

“Why?” He asked quietly, almost ashamed, “Why in your right mind would you love someone like me? I’m old and cranky and I’m not exactly husband material.”

“Joel,” You mouth fell open in offense. You couldn’t believe he was talking about himself this way, “When I look at you,” You reached a gentle hand up to his cheek, running your thumb over a stray tear, “I don’t see anything but a kind, gentle man who loves his girls fiercely and with no abandon. Joel, it’s enough for me that you love me. And then you have to go and love me well!” You laugh at that, it’s almost unbelievable how perfect he was for you and for Sarah. She was one lucky kid. You stop smiling and your face turns deadly serious, “Joel, I don’t care what you say, I will spend the rest of my life missing you. Even if I did end up marrying that nice young man, I would always wonder where you are, what you’re up to, what you’re doing, and what my life would’ve looked like with you. I will miss you and Sarah for the rest of my life. And I mean that.”

Now Joel was crying, not without protest. He tried his best to hold back the tears but they were flowing. He loved you so much. And to hear that you felt the same? Well it made this old man practically break.

“I love you,” He said quietly.

“I love you, Joel,” You say, running your thumb across the apple of his cheek in a soothing rhythm.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle and soothing kiss. It was a cautious kiss, he was careful not to break you. That was, until, you tangled your hands in his hair, pulling gently. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue over his lips, which you opened your mouth to allow.

Yeah. He didn’t leave you. You would never drunk call him again, and he would never shed a goodbye tear over you again.

You were always grateful that sober you decided to get rid of those photos that night.

[doodle-pops]

「 ✦˖ ࣪ .♡˚.Princess Treatment˚.♡˖ ࣪ .✦ 」

Headcanon: Curufin, Amras, Turgon, Finafin, Aegnor, Galdor, Rog, Beleg

A/N: I know I had another set of headcanons to post, but those weren’t working out, so I decided to give a second part to the Princess Treatment headcanons I did last year for the same event with other characters.

.𑁍༊˚ Curufin

Curufin’s princess treatment manifests in his attentiveness to your needs, even before you realise them yourself. Whether it's draping his cloak over your shoulders before a chill can touch you or preparing your favorite tea after a long day, he anticipates your desires effortlessly.

As a master craftsman, Curufin creates intricate jewelry for you, each piece personalised and imbued with a story or meaning. His gifts are never random—they reflect moments shared between you two, aspects of your personality that he admires, or even a subtle statement that says “mine”.

When walking together, Curufin is always at your side, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand at the small of your back. He loves the feeling of being your protector and companion, and will silently ensure you’re always safe and comfortable.

If you show the slightest interest in something, whether it be a new skill or hobby, Curufin will subtly arrange for the best teachers or resources to be at your disposal. He takes immense pride in seeing you excel, your happiness fueling his own.

Curufin’s affection is shown through action rather than words, but in private moments, he’ll take your hand and press a kiss to each fingertip, murmuring how much he cherishes you.

.𑁍༊˚ Amras

He loves surprising you with impromptu picnics in secluded forest clearings, where he’s already laid out your favorite treats and brought along a cosy blanket for you both to share.

He’s always thinking of little ways to make your life easier or more enjoyable, whether it's braiding your hair for you in intricate designs or bringing you wildflowers that he tucks behind your ear with a grin.

During your outdoor adventures, Amras takes it upon himself to carry anything you might need, from your extra cloak to your favourite book. He insists that you just enjoy the journey while he handles the rest, finding joy in making sure you’re carefree.

Amras is also fond of crafting little trinkets for you, often made from materials he’s found during your travels together. You’ll receive necklaces of woven grass, rings made of polished stone, and other small tokens that remind you of your shared adventures.

He has a playful side and loves to whisk you away for secret rendezvous under the stars, where he’ll dance with you to the music of the night, his laughter and joy infectious as he spins you around.

.𑁍༊˚ Turgon

Turgon is the epitome of a chivalrous King when it comes to giving you the princess treatment. From the moment you enter a room, his attention is solely on you, making sure every detail of your surroundings is perfect for your comfort and pleasure.

He loves to plan elaborate dates, whether it’s a moonlit stroll through the gardens of Gondolin or a private concert by the city’s finest musicians. Turgon spares no expense in making you feel like royalty, both in private and in public.

You’ll never need to lift a finger in his presence. Turgon insists on serving you himself, whether it’s pouring your wine or cutting your food, all done with a gentle smile and a look that says you’re the most important person in his world.

When you’re feeling down, Turgon will wrap you in the softest blankets and read your favorite books aloud, his deep voice soothing and comforting. He has a talent for making even the most mundane moments feel special and intimate.

His favorite way to express his love is through grand gestures—like commissioning a beautiful mural in the city, depicting a scene of the two of you. He loves to show the world how much you mean to him, and nothing is too extravagant.

.𑁍༊˚ Finarfin

Finarfin treats you with a blend of elegance and heartfelt gestures. He delights in hosting intimate dinners for you, where he meticulously plans every detail—from the finest dishes to the perfect candlelight. He ensures each meal is a celebration of your time together.

He’s deeply attuned to your preferences and often surprises you with carefully chosen gifts, such as a rare book, a delicate piece of jewelry, or a beautiful fabric that you’ve admired. Each gift is accompanied by a personal note expressing his affection.

Finarfin enjoys creating serene moments for you both. Whether it’s arranging a private viewing of a stunning sunset or organizing a quiet afternoon in a secluded garden, he always finds ways to make these experiences feel special and memorable.

When you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed, Finarfin will create a relaxing atmosphere, complete with soft music and aromatic oils. He’ll gently rub your shoulders or brush your hair, his touch soothing and attentive, ensuring you feel cherished and at ease.

He’s also fond of planning surprise getaways to picturesque locations. Whether it’s a cosy cabin by a lake or a charming village, he’ll organise everything with precision, ensuring you both enjoy a refreshing and delightful escape from everyday life.

.𑁍༊˚ Aegnor

He’s fiercely protective and will often accompany you on walks or errands, his presence a silent but powerful reassurance. If anyone dares to speak ill of you, they’ll quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his cold wrath.

One thing Aegnor never misses is an opportunity to reenact all the romantic scenes from plays with you. Whether it’s dancing under the stars or in the ballroom, whispering your name sweetly while holding eye contact, or even chasing you through a field of flowers.

Aegnor enjoys sharing you with the world and letting everyone know that you’re his and he’s yours, so expect commissions of pieces of jewellery that showcase his love for you. A promise ring, a locket with his favourite words engraved, a bracelet with the two as the pendant, and dozens of love letters.

He’s a lover for public displays of affection. He’ll hold you close, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks, lips, hands, every oart of your body he could kiss and whisper cheesy words. His touch reverent and tender as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

Flowers upon every meeting and an arm out for you to cross puddles. Holding doors open, pulling out your chair, fixing your hair and clothes, wiping your lips after you’ve eaten and so many more. You can bet the romantic puppy would be down for doing all that and more.

.𑁍༊˚ Rog

Rog’s princess treatment is all about making sure you feel secure and adored. As a formidable warrior, he’s always looking out for your safety, and you can count on him to be at your side, whether you’re walking through the bustling streets of Gondolin or relaxing at home.

He loves to carry you, especially when you least expect it. Whether it’s sweeping you off your feet to avoid a puddle or lifting you onto his shoulders for a better view, if it makes you happy, it makes him happy. Not to forget, he makes time to also be your teddy bear.

Rog is also a craftsman, and he often creates beautiful, practical items for you. Whether it’s a sturdy pair of boots tailored to your feet or a custom weapon if you’re inclined towards combat, everything he makes is infused with his care and attention to detail.

Despite his warrior’s exterior, Rog has a gentle heart. He’ll often gather flowers for you during his travels and present them with a shy smile, brushing a tender kiss against your knuckles as he does so.

Rog is very tactile in his affection, always finding reasons to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, or wrapping an arm around your waist. He thrives on these small connections, each one a silent declaration of his love.

.𑁍༊˚ Galdor

Galdor’s treatment revolves around pampering you in the most thoughtful ways. He’ll often draw you luxurious baths filled with fragrant herbs and flower petals, making sure everything is perfect before leaving you to relax in solitude.

He has a knack for finding the perfect gifts—whether it’s a book you’ve been wanting, a rare plant, or a piece of art that reminds him of you. Each gift is accompanied by a sweet note, handwritten and filled with his deepest affections.

Galdor enjoys taking you on serene walks through beautiful gardens, where he’ll pick the most exquisite flowers to weave into your hair. He takes great care in making sure you feel adored and beautiful, often complimenting you in the softest of tones.

He’s very attentive to your comfort, often adjusting pillows or bringing you extra blankets without you even needing to ask. If you’re working or reading, Galdor will quietly bring you snacks or a cup of tea, ensuring you have everything you need to stay relaxed and content.

In quieter moments, Galdor loves to play music for you, whether on a harp or flute. He’ll serenade you with soft melodies that soothe your soul, his music a tender expression of his love and devotion.

.𑁍༊˚ Beleg

Being rooted in nature and simplicity, he loves to take you on long walks through the woods, where he’ll point out different plants and animals, making sure you feel connected to the world around you while also feeling special in his presence.

He’s always crafting small gifts for you out of natural materials, like a crown of leaves or a bracelet made from braided vines. Each item is created with care and presented to you with a warm smile, his way of showing how much he cherishes your bond.

Beleg is a skilled archer, and he’ll often set up friendly competitions where the prize is always a sweet kiss or a ton of sweet kisses. He loves seeing your eyes light up with excitement, and his laughter is the most rewarding sound when you best him in a challenge.

He enjoys setting up intimate campfires where you can both sit close, sharing stories and toasting beer or wine under the stars. Beleg will wrap you in his cloak, not because you need protection, but because he wants you to feel his warmth and presence.

When it’s just the two of you, Beleg will take the time to braid your hair, his fingers working with gentle precision. He finds peace in these quiet moments, and it’s his way of showing you how much he treasures every second spent together.

Masterlist

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[inherdaze]

heaven surrounds you — yuji itadori

angel yuji x f reader

fluff, strangers to lovers, human/nonhuman, slowish burn

8k words

summary: yuuji, your guardian angel, flirts with the idea of breaking heaven's law to be with you.

Yuji lies, draped at the feet of God. 

He presents himself in front of a being that he, along with other angels, cannot ever describe through any human language. 

He knows what he’s here for. There’s no use in hiding it– he’s in front of God. And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t feel the need to hide it anyway. He’ll plead guilty for days on end, knowing what he’s done. No one should beg for forgiveness, for simply loving you. 

He loves you. 

A voice, a loud but gentle voice, reaches down and into Yuji’s ears. It’s like it comes from inside of his head. No other angel or being that walks the earth can hear it, except for him. 

“Yuji,” It rings. It nearly lulls him to sleep. “You know what you’re here for.”

“Yes,” He whispers out. 

God does not have a face. And if it does, Yuji has never seen it. But God has a voice, and Yuji thinks that God is smiling right now, just by the sound. It’s soothing, makes him feel better about the punishment he’s about to receive. He doesn’t know what God will make him face in light of loving you, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll greet it with open arms. He’ll never regret what he feels for you. 

Devotion. It’s all about his devotion to you. 

Yuji lets his eyes slip shut, feels as if the warmth of heaven suffocates him slowly, invading all his senses and clouding his mind. All his memories, all his knowledge- it unravels slowly, like a ball of yarn spilling from its place and undoing itself. He’s losing more and more of it, the thin material slipping right out of his very fingers, but at the very end, he sees you. 

You don’t slip away. 

He is everywhere, that boy with pink hair. 

You don’t know his name– you’re always too shy or shaken up to ask, but he’s always there. He’s behind you in the grocery line when you find you’re just a little too short to pay for everything, so he covers the rest of it for you. He’s there when your car gets stuck in the snow, using all his strength to help you push it (his strength is inhuman, you find out). He’s there to offer you a bandaid when your finger catches on a piece of metal on the subway, there when you spill a drink all over yourself and stain your white shirt at the diner- he’s the one who saves the day, as always, giving you his jacket to cover up. He was the waiter passing by. 

You’re in front of the same diner now, his jacket folded neatly in your hands, carrying the scent of fresh lavender. You washed it with the intention to return it to him as soon as possible, and perhaps, catch his name, talk to him a little bit. 

When you step in and greet the hostess, who is quick to get you seated, you blurt out a weak Wait! and she freezes in her tracks. 

“I’m only here to return this,” You start sheepishly, holding the jacket up. “I didn’t get the waiter’s name, but, he’s really tall and… he has pink hair. I think he’s got some beauty marks under his eyes, too,” Your voice shakes from embarrassment, “That’s all I remember.”

The hostess eyes you carefully. “No one that works here has pink hair, I’m sorry.”

“N-No?” You repeat, feeling your inner hope crumble into pieces. You purse your lips and try to think a little harder… maybe it was the lighting that always made his hair come off as pink? Maybe he was actually blond…

But to be pink every time…

“Ah, um- I think he had blond hair, actually, and uh…” You try to recall any other details that could help. 

His necklace.

With every encounter you’ve had with the boy, he was always wearing a dainty gold chain around his neck- it always suited him well, in your opinion. It wasn’t tacky or too flashy, and always neatly tucked into his shirts. 

“He wore a gold chain, I think,” You add impulsively, a little too unsure of yourself. 

“A blond waiter with beauty marks and a gold chain...” She trails off, then looks behind her shoulder to glance over at all the staff working. “I don’t think anyone here fits that description, but I could go and check, if you like.” 

“No! That’s fine, no worries! Maybe he was actually a customer and I just– yeah, yeah that’s all. Thank you so much for your time, though!” 

You’re chirping at her like a frazzled bird, face heating up and heart racing intensely from the embarrassing encounter. It wasn’t that bad, but you had to take a few deep breaths after you settled into your car, recovering. 

Why can’t I find you?

Yuji knows. He knows you’re on the search for him. 

He sees you peeking about, observing every single face you can when you’re out in public. He watches as you try, time and time again, searching through his jacket pockets to find any sort of identification. He saw, and even laughed to himself a little, when you deep cleaned your washer and dryer in hopes that something spilled from the pockets and got lost in the machines. 

No dice. 

He was, quite literally, impossible to find. And he knew that very well– no one could seek him out, he had to be the one to find you. He’s not even human, so you’re just out of luck. 

Or, perhaps you aren’t. 

A few weeks have passed since you tried to find that mysterious boy at the diner, and now that you’ve slowly given up, you’re starting to forget about him. You haven’t seen him around, and you haven’t run into any issues that he could possibly save you from, so both his jacket and your memory of him are tucked far, far away, in the corners of a closet you don’t usually open. 

That is until the plastic bags holding all your snacks from your corner store run rip open, and all of your goodies spill out onto the sidewalk. You huff out an aggravated, tired sigh as you crouch to scoop everything up and fit it all into your arms to your best ability. 

A pair of hands creep into your vision, soft and clean. They wrap around your items on the floor, and for a second, you think this person is going to steal your stuff and run away. 

But you look up, and it's him. It’s that flighty, pink haired boy, beauty marks and gold chain and all. 

“It’s you!” You sputter, so excited that your things fall from your grasp and tumble back onto the pavement, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “You! The boy! From the diner, and the store, and- and–” 

You’re so excited that you cut yourself off, a big smiling gracing your features, and you feel so elated, so excited and literally overjoyed, just the sight of him being so close to you makes you feel like you’ve swallowed a vial of sunlight. 

Yuji, on the other hand, feels like there are sirens and alarms going off in his head. He’s read about this in a book, he’s sure, and he’s nearly positive that Gojo taught his class what to do in a case like this (which would be considered a worst-case scenario; for you to recognize him). Angels are supposed to make their appearances quick, easy, and harmless. Only a little amount of words should be exchanged, and then they should go, leaving behind no trace for their human to follow. 

Angels are supposed to be in Heaven. Really, Yuji should be in Heaven right now, and instead of him being here to help you scoop everything up, it would’ve been a different stranger, a stranger that Yuji propelled to help you. It shouldn’t be him.

But Yuji has been cast down to Earth by God, claiming it’d be better for him, a more hands-on experience. He can’t go back until the higher ups within the angelic hierarchy decide that Yuji has learned his lesson and is suited to guide and protect from the Heavens. It’s harder when you’re so far away, but he’s been able to catch you in difficult moments now that he’s here, in a somewhat human manifestation of himself. 

His brain goes blank. He remains silent, but flashes you a smile. 

“Uh,” You cough out, surprised by his lack of communication. “Thank you for helping me pick all of this up,” You start, and then Yuji thinks that it counts as a sort of goodbye, so he starts backing away. 

“Wait!” You call out unceremoniously, as if he’s already miles away. “I need… can you help me take all of this stuff back home? And- and I have your jacket, still. It’s… yours. Yeah. And- maybe, since you’ve helped me out so much, you’d be okay with dinner? N-not in a date way, I just… really feel the need to pay you back…”

He’s intrigued, to say the least. He’s never heard someone talk and stutter so much before, besides himself, of course. 

Truthfully, he doesn’t need the jacket. He doesn’t need the dinner, either– he’s not entirely human, so it’s not like he gets hungry. But you need his help, and, well, isn’t that the point of all of this?

“Okay,” He finally lets out, sounding a little robotic before he clears his throat and tries again, “Yeah, of course. I’d be happy to help.” 

You let out a happy hum before guiding him to your apartment, and the entire time that the two of you walk there, he’s quiet. You’re going on and on about how hard you tried to find him, and how it’s so funny that he’s always there whenever you need help. He laughs nervously at that. 

When you ask him about his name, he hesitates for too long. Really, he shouldn’t tell you. He thinks he’s crossing some sort of line– he really shouldn’t tell you. 

But then again, it would be heinous if an angel lied, right? He can’t just lie to you. That would probably be worse than telling you his name, he thinks. 

“Yuji,” He lets out finally, a little too late. “Sorry, I… spaced out. My name is Yuji.” 

“Yuji,” You repeat, giving the name a test trial before you happily give him your name in return. 

I already know, he wants to say.

He’s quiet when you both reach your home, quiet as you cook dinner, quiet as you pad around your cozy little apartment. Though he throws you a soft, appreciative smile when you give him back his jacket. 

This is the most silent he has ever been in his entire life. There’s too much going on in his head, he’s unsure of what to do and of what to say to you, but it feels like he’s only entrenching himself deeper and deeper into his dilemma as he keeps agreeing with you, letting you take the lead. His life as an angel really, really does depend on all of this. If he breaks a rule (God knows how many he’s already broken– literally), this could be his first and last gig. 

Yuji’s broken from his thoughts as you set down a plate of food in front of him; supper, he presumes. 

Yuji has never eaten anything in his life. He’s an angel, a heavenly being, he doesn’t need to eat, drink, take a leak or a dump, doesn’t get hot or cold, doesn’t feel pain. He’s not human, as much as he may look like one. 

And, from your perspective, you just assume he eats slowly. Your eyes are all focused on your plate as you take your fork and eat, missing the way he’s observing your every move to mimic you. 

He takes the fork into his fingers, slowly and sort of clumsily, but is forever thankful that you don’t notice. He’s about to give up and just grip the end of a fork like a child would, wrapping a whole fist around it, but he picks up on it just enough to slide by. 

Yuji has never eaten anything in his life. But as he takes a bite of your food, some of it spilling off his fork and right back onto his plate, he thinks he understands why humans eat so much, disregarding the fact that they need it to survive. 

Your cooking makes him think of a place he’s never been, gives him a feeling he’s truly never felt before. It’s warm– he knows the food is actually warm– but the feeling itself spreads throughout his chest, and it feels like it’s nearly engulfing his heart. It’s almost like he wants to cry, maybe. 

He was created and raised in Heaven, and he has never felt something so, so, so… human. To eat. To enjoy food– to enjoy it enough, to eat more. To feel this warmth, this sort of fullness that’s doing good for his heart. 

Needless to say, he wolfs down his plate (as politely as he can). 

You’re practically over the moon as he shyly asks for seconds, then scarfs it all down quickly before asking if it’s okay to have a little more. And you just nod eagerly, taking his plate and adding some more. Yuji makes a mental note in his head– he really has to tell Megumi and Nobara about how good food is, once he’s back up there. 

The both of you finish up and Yuji finally remembers who he is and what he’s here for. He’s only here to protect you– from afar, of course. Dinner with you made him feel like a housemate, like it was a regular, recurring thing. 

It’s getting darker and he’s trying to inch closer and closer towards the door, telling you how much he needs to get home, thinks he left the kitchen light on by accident. It’s a little fib, he knows, but he cannot risk this for any longer. 

There’s a soft, repetitive pit pat sound that hits your windows, your ceiling, and the walls outside. It’s so gentle that he doesn’t hear it at first, but within seconds, it’s pouring. It’s so rambunctious, it’s like there’s hundreds of people throwing rocks at your building, and when you peek out your window to see how bad the rain is, the street is flooded. 

You pull back from the window, looking at Yuji sheepishly. “It’s really bad out there, so, if you want… I mean… you can stay until the rain passes…. I’d hate for you to get caught out there.” 

His eyebrows raise. 

Is this a test? Is it all a test? 

The timing seems a little too coincidental, and if he could, Yuji’d look up at your ceiling (imagining it was God) and give a proper scowl. 

He has a difficult time declining all your offers as you smoothen out your sofa, draping blankets and pillows all over to make the space more comfortable for him. You do it silently, eagerly, excited to treat someone who has saved you so many times. He senses it from you, your genuine hospitality and kindness.

It’s getting darker. You can only see the outline of his figure in the living room as you bid him goodnight, tell him to sleep well before you slip into your bedroom. 

While Yuji lays on his back, hands folded beneath his head, he cannot help but think about how much the roles have reversed this time.

Yuji’s confession reaches you in your sleep, through your dreams.

You’re back at the diner. You’re sitting in a booth, Yuji sitting across from you. He’s adorned in a white gown and golden robe, with a soft, circular glow around his head. 

You can’t see yourself, can’t look down at yourself, but you feel a comfortable feeling on your shoulders, your arms. You’re wearing his jacket. 

Yuji smiles to himself, eyes avoiding yours as his fingers fumble with an empty straw wrapper. 

“I have something to tell you,” He starts quietly. 

“Yeah,” You say with disbelief, but your voice comes off as amused. “Yeah. I think you do.” 

He doesn’t say anything after that. What he must tell you has already been conveyed. 

You think, in your dream, that there’s a lot to unpack. But it’s like Yuji communicates with you silently, slipping his words into your mind until you understand. It almost feels like as soon as the dream began to play out in your mind, you already knew of the secret he carried. It’s a deep-seated knowledge that nearly feels like you’ve been born with it. 

The two of you are quiet as your food arrives, as you eat. This time, Yuji doesn’t need to watch and learn from you. He intrinsically knows how to handle a plate, how to eat. 

It’s funny, you think, somewhere in the realm of your dream. It’s funny to see Yuji, an angel, fit a huge burger in between his hands, taking a reckless bite. There’s ketchup at the corner of his lips. He doesn’t move very gracefully for an angel. 

When the two of you are done, he rests his palms on the table and pushes himself up to stand. 

“I have to go now,” He says.  

You want to speak up, want to tell him to wait, to stay. But it’s like your mouth is sealed shut, because you can only hear yourself pleading in your mind for him not to leave as you silently watch him slip into the dark corners of your vision. Your heart aches, because you so desperately want to tell him to stay, even just a little bit longer, but you stay quiet. 

And just like that, he’s gone. He’s left you again. 

The feeling of him leaving shakes you up enough to wake you up. But it’s a peaceful awakening– you're not sweating, gasping, or panicking for air. You simply blink your eyes open, greeted by the rising sun and soft songbirds. He leaves you with a sense of peace and curiosity, as he always has. 

You softly step into your hallway, peeking into the living room, checking if he’s there. 

He is. He’s up and folding all the blankets you gave him the night before, fluffing your pillows and sorting them neatly on the cushions of your couch. 

You make your presence known with a gentle clear of your throat, and he whirls around to meet you. Yuji smiles at you, admiring you in your sleepy state. 

“Good morning.” 

“Morning,” You croak, eyes landing on his dainty little chain. He sees you focusing on it. You both know what it is. 

He’s positive that his message got to you. He coughs and smooths over his shirt before tucking his hands behind himself like a shy schoolboy. 

“I have to go now,” He says, again. 

This isn’t your dream. This isn’t your dream, so you will yourself to move forward and speak, because you know that you will likely never see him again like this if you let him leave. 

It’s a selfish, selfish thing. A human thing.

“You can’t,” You start, reaching forward to hold his arm, but a sudden fear strikes your heart and you let your hand fall. You’re not sure if you can touch him. Yuji’s gaze softens when he sees it. 

“I must,” He says simply, though he doesn’t move. He watches your features wash over with some sort of grief, a sort of longing as if he’s already gone, like you’re letting yourself feel it now so that you don’t have to face it later. 

“Yuji,” You start again, voice so gentle and tender. The tone of it makes him freeze up, makes him reminiscent of something he has only felt in Heaven. The way you say his name brings him a feeling of prayer, somehow sounding so similar to an angel's whisper of Dear God. 

“Stay,” You plead softly. 

“Watch over me.” A prayer, he thinks again. 

Yuji finds that he cannot deny your request. He is, after all, here on Earth for the sole purpose of protecting you.  

Living with Yuji by your side is like raising a toddler. It’s teaching him how technology works, telling him the stove is hot, showing him how to use different kitchen utensils. And in return, you learn from him as well. You see light in his eyes, feel kindness from his heart, tenderness in the entirety of his being that is pure, untouched by humanity. He has no hidden motives. There’s nothing that he must keep from you. He’s unabashedly expressive and warm and like a beam of light that resides next to you on your creaky couch. 

You give him little lessons about the human world. He shows you unadulterated warmth.

Yuji is filled to the brim with curiosity, and sometimes, you’re nervous that he may burst at the seams. His wonder has a chokehold on him, and on you, too. Everywhere that you take him, he’s pointing things out, asking what certain ads and newspapers and commercials mean. He’s a stranger to pop culture, to history, to the world climate. 

You ask him, one day– only slightly irritated by his pestering nature– how come he doesn’t know any of this. You thought that angels may be just as all-knowing as God is; how is it that he has been assigned to keep a human safe, with little to no knowledge on the world a human lives in? 

His answer comes out sheepish, almost ashamed. He plays with his napkin, folding it over and pressing it flat. “In Heaven, there’s kinda this idea that- that–” He cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands freeze their movements, like his mind is recalculating. 

“There’s this idea that humans live in a tainted world. There is no benefit from learning about it, and I think… I think some angels are afraid that if we learn about it, we will bring that poisoned world into Heaven.” 

You only hum in acknowledgment, in understanding. Your heart softens like water being poured over dry, packed up soil, and you feel something unfurl within you. A want, or perhaps more of a need, to show Yuji that mortal life is not all that bad, is planted in you. And despite the obvious gap between you two– a heavenly being and a human, sinful by nature– you’re sure that maybe you can be his beam of light, too. 

And so, with your tender heart, you let Yuji pester and question you all he wants. You let him point out things very obviously (and maybe a little bit embarrassingly) out in public, let him peer over your shoulder as you read the news, let him catch up on documentaries and shows that inherently teach him more about the world while you’re gone at work, thus letting him get ahead of you. And when he’s apologetic, you tell him it’s okay, and then the both of you play the media from start to finish again. He never gets tired. Never of the world, of learning, of you.

Yuji has learned a plethora of things during his stay with you. Through reading, watching, observing– he’s learned slang, history, gestures, culture; but above all, he has learned that he does not know what love is. 

Yuji thought that he knew what love is like. Angels feel love, but it’s different from what he’s seen ever since he came down to earth. 

The love that angels carry is the kind that is unwavering, it never dies out, though it is not as intense as the love that Yuji has begun to see. It’s a feeling that every single angel is innately born with– a love for humanity, a love for God. There are no intimate ties or pretty feelings, but it is a love that is known, like an unspoken law. He feels love for you, feels love for people; wants to protect you, guide others, keep everyone safe and keep the peace. That’s what Yuji calls love. 

But as Yuji becomes more familiar with human nature and behavior, he cannot help but feel like he’s clueless when it comes to love. He sees relationships, family, small acts of what he thinks is real love occurring between them. 

He sees people splitting food in half and into sections to share with others. He sees people with matching bracelets, rings, necklaces. He sees people translating what others are saying so that their loved one can understand. He sees people linking pinkies, sees people on the subway whispering to each other and snickering to themselves, sees children clinging onto their parents. He sees people splayed out on the grass, surrounded by blankets and baskets and plenty of food. He sees true, real, love. 

Yuji learns, through time, that he doesn’t know love. Not up close and personal, anyway. He hasn’t felt it, and he knows surely that his love for humanity is not the same type of love that people share amongst the ones they know. It’s different. 

So at every waking moment, Yuji tries to see if there is love in the things you do. He watches when you cook, thinks if you’re chopping up the vegetables with love. When you laugh at one of his questions, he wonders if there is love behind it. When you read a book and lean over to him, pointing to a specific line that you think he would like, he wonders, is that love? In the mornings, as he spots the little sticky notes and instructions that you leave for him on the fridge, he asks himself if it is an act of love. There’s a dull itch that resides somewhere in his chest– somewhere that he struggles pinpointing himself– an itch that yearns to know how you love. 

He wants to know, and he wants to try. 

One evening, after you’ve finished making dinner, the two of you sit across from each other as you eat. Yuji keeps throwing you glances as you munch quietly before leaning over the table and bringing his plate over yours. 

Wordlessly, he uses his fork to push some of his food onto your plate. 

You freeze, eyes overlooking him. 

“Are… are you full?”

He shakes his head before eating more food from his plate. “No. I can’t get full.” 

“Then… what’s… what’s this about?”

“I wanted to share with you.” 

“Share with me?”

“Yeah.”

You’re utterly confused, eyes flittering from your plate and back up to his face over and over again. He isn’t suppressing a laugh, he doesn’t look guilty as if he’s pulling a funny little prank like the ones he’s seen on your social media.

“There’s more food in the pan, Yuji,” You start, “You didn’t have to give me yours. There’s plenty left… I could’ve gotten some myself.” 

You’re missing the point, he thinks. 

You clear your throat. “Did you… not like it?” 

“No!” He bursts, leaning over the table again, hand reaching out only slightly as if you’ll dissolve away within a matter of seconds. “No– no, I mean, I did like it– I just thought I could share. I thought sharing was nice. A nice thing to do.” 

He wants to tell you that he thinks sharing is an act of love, but he bites his tongue and sinks back into his chair. 

You smile softly at his words, then give a little hum. 

“Thank you, Yuji.” 

He looks at you from beneath his lashes, catches the sight of you eating the food that came from his plate. And although his plan didn’t go exactly how he wanted, and the message flew over your head, he thinks this is enough. 

You and Yuji spend a rainy night inside watching movies and trying out new shows. 

The thunder outside is a little muffled as you pick a show, tossing the remote somewhere onto the couch cushion next to you. The entire apartment is dark, save for the flash of lights and images on the TV screen. 

The show starts off strong– it introduces the main character, then within a few minutes, shows the character going out for a spunky night and, of course, escalates into a sex scene. 

You feel like you’re 16 and watching an explicit scene with your parents. Your eyes avoid the screen and you cough, making it obvious that you’re searching for the remote somewhere in the dark, muttering something about how in-your-face the show is. 

But when you glance at Yuji, he’s focused on the screen, confusion and maybe even a little bit of discomfort on his face. He’s quiet, splotches of dark blues and reds reflecting across his face until he finally speaks up, voice soft, “That’s not out of love, is it?” 

You turn back to face the screen, eyes locking on one of the characters writhing on the bed. 

“Um,” You start, evaluating the situation. “No. It’s- it’s not out of love.” 

He gives a gentle hum with a nod before falling quiet again. 

You sound far away as you laugh nervously and catch the remote in your hands, fast forwarding the scene till it’s over. The images become blurry to Yuji as he unfocuses, mind caught up in the act of doing things without love being the motive. There’s a newfound awareness that resides in his mind, in his heart, that there are so many things out there that might be lacking love. 

He refrains from looking towards you. 

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

Yuji denied it at first. But God is all-knowing, all-seeing. 

Yuji loved you just as much as he loved anyone else– he loved everyone. Yet, as the two of you spent more time together, there was just something that rested heavy in the back of his mind that he could not come to terms with. He thought he never would. He thought, maybe, if he tried hard enough, that God would not make him face it either.

It was a feeling. A feeling that grew from that one particular itch in his chest– a feeling that followed him around, crept down his back, up around his neck and mouth until he was at a loss for words whenever he looked at you. 

He knew he was in trouble when he spotted his friend, tousled black hair and small golden chain circling around his wrist at the grocery store. Fate is unstoppable. 

You had asked Yuji to come grocery shopping with you so that he could pick out what he wanted to eat for the week. He couldn't do anything but agree. But, Yuji thinks that even if he had disagreed, Megumi still would've found him.

While you're looking over your rumpled little grocery list, Yuji swallows the lump in his throat so that his nervousness doesn’t seep through his voice. “How ‘bout I, uh, go get the things I want real quick? I’ll meet you back in the produce section.”

There’s a short silence as you look up from your list and into his eyes, registering what he said. He cuts you off before you can even start, “I won’t take long.” 

I’ll come back, I promise.

He thinks he played it off smooth, thinks you won’t notice the way his finger is strung onto his golden chain as he drags it back and forth. You’ve never seen him touch his ‘halo’, ever. You know him too well at this point, and even coming to terms with that fact has your chest swelling with something unspeakable. 

“Okay,” Is all you say, soft and tender like you want to tell him you hope he’s okay. Just the tone of your voice has him short circuiting, hesitating to step back and leave you all alone in front of the chips display.

He lingers for a moment, eyes full with an emotion you think might be similar to what blooms in your ribcage. And then he’s backing away, turning around to head off and fetch what he wants, and even though he’s only walking away from you in a grocery store, you can’t help but feel like there’s something more to it. He’s bound to walk away at some point. As you push your cart to the pasta aisle, you really think about how he has been crafted by God and you are not the match for him. 

Yuji approaches Megumi a few aisles down, knowing he’d trail off there– an angel’s intuition. He walks towards him with a sort of drag in his step.

“Hey, Megs,” He starts casually, eyeing the boy in human form. Yuji's lips quirk up as he reads over Megumi’s t-shirt. 

“Didn’t know you, uh, liked The Cure.” 

Megumi clenches his jaw.

“You need to come back.”

Yuji tries playing dumb, eyes scanning over the shelves of food like he’s going to pick something out, like Megumi is an old college friend he happened to cross paths with in the store, like there’s no deeper meaning to the situation. He tries to play dumb like a human does. Megumi thinks, for a second, that Yuji does play the role of a human pretty well.

He wouldn't ever tell him that, though.

“Come back?” Yuji asks lightheartedly, as if the sight of Megumi and his greeting sentence didn't make him feel scared for his life.

It would be one thing if God confronted Yuji on a one-on-one basis. If God were to be the first to move its chess piece, waiting for the move Yuji will make in return. 

But God is peering down at Yuji from the other side of the chessboard, beckoning him to start the play. It’s all in Yuji’s hands, now. 

Yuji now knows that his inner dilemma regarding you has been cast out into Heaven like it’s some sort of soap opera, similar to the ones he watches with you. He’d feel much better if only God knew- but Megumi knows. And if Megumi knows, then so does Nobara. And if the both of them know, then it’s more than likely that every angel he’s ever brushed past is aware of the situation. 

He knows that Megumi has come to save him out of fear. It was Megumi’s choice to touch down on the Earth and track down his best friend to save him before it was too late. And the thought of that, too, made Yuji feel something he’s not sure he’s ever felt before– queasy. 

Like heavy goop spun in the center of his stomach slowly, tantalizingly. 

“You’ve been here for far too long,” Megumi starts, eyes narrowing, “In that place for too long.”

“Place?” Yuji snips back, expression ridden with irritation as Megumi lets the words leave his lips with only a little bit of disgust. 

“It’s not just some place, Megs,” Yuji defends. 

“It’s my—” Home.

“Your what?” His friend pushes, eyebrows raising to encourage him. He knows that once Yuji says it, his fate is sealed and he’d be pulled away from you forever.

“It’s nothing,” he quickly decides, retracting from his previous statement as his attitude dissolves. “I’ll go back, soon.”

“Soon.”

“Yes, soon,” Yuji says exasperatedly, tired of Megumi pushing him into a confession that would change both your life and his. “I’m going back,” he repeats to reassure Megumi, and maybe to reassure himself as well. If he were to be honest, he hadn’t really thought about when he’d head back to Heaven. He never thought about it after you had asked him to stay.

“Okay,” Megumi says with hesitance, like he doesn’t believe his friend. 

And out of spite, he adds, “Don’t go falling for that– that human, Yuji. Come back home.”

Megumi turns on his heel and walks away, rounding the corner of the aisle, and as much as Yuji wants to follow after him and give him the lecture of his life– the they’re different lecture– he knows the boy is already gone. If he wanted to track him down, he’d have to chase him down in Heaven. 

At home. 

Yuji mentally reminds himself where his home is, where it’s always been, but his heart knows better. 

When he catches up with you, seeking you out in the produce section, a sudden feeling of serenity washes over him, gently and slowly as his eyes focus on you. He gets the feeling that it’s okay– it’s okay that God knows, that Megumi knows, that the entirety of Heaven knows that he has overstayed his welcome. Because although the Earth may reject him, and the Heavens will pull with tooth and nail to get him back, you will always be there. You’ll be there– waiting in the produce aisle, picking veggies. You’ll be at home, cooking up something he mentioned he liked. You’ll be at the bookshop, sorting out different books you think might help him in understanding the human world a little more. 

Perhaps, you’ll be there, welcoming him with love?

You bring him back to Earth with a soft little hey, almost like you’re shy. Yuji thinks that he can think about all of that later. For now, he can focus on you. He dumps all of the things he said he’d get into the cart as he tries to smoothly, flirtatiously shoot out a “Hey yourself.” 

It makes you laugh. Quietly, given that the both of you are in the middle of the store, but you laugh. 

And, Yeah, Yuji thinks. Maybe you’ll be there to greet him with love.

Time is running out, and Yuji is getting desperate. 

He knows that he doesn’t have an actual time limit, knows that there is no specific hour and minute that he must go back to Heaven– but he knows that the longer he drags this out, the more painful his punishment will be. He has strayed from God’s word, from his original purpose, as now his entire life revolves around you, and more recently, loving you. 

The boy is torn. 

Day in and day out, he shows his love to you in ways he thinks you’ll understand. He’s learned enough from his little observations to try and practice, to convey his feelings for you. His heart is set on you. All he wants is to make that clear. 

He’d like to hold your hand more often– and not just when you’re guiding him through a crowd, or leading him to a store. He wants to hold your hand simply because he can. Wants to hold your hand on the couch, in the subway, across the dinner table. And he does. He’s shy at first, looking at you for any sign of discomfort, but he gets his green light and holds your hand. Whenever. Just because he can. Because he wants to. 

He shares his food with you (again). Helps you comb your hair. Tries to help you pick which outfit you should wear for a picnic. Offers to carry you when your feet get tired from all that walking and exploring (you’re too shy to take up the offer, so instead, you lean against him completely as you walk and he steadies you). Wipes the crumbs off your lips. Sometimes, he even thinks about picking them off with his own lips– or maybe his tongue? Eats the candy you don’t like, so that you don't have to toss it all away and waste it. Holds both of your hands between his hands when they're cold. Helps you put lotion on your back on the days that you’re especially tired and don't wanna reach. His face gets warm as he does this, your bare back exposed to him as you press a towel to your front and wrap one around your lower body. Gives you space when you ask, and bundles up with you on the couch if you ask. 

With every single one of these things, he’s telling you that he loves you. And at first, as he became more responsive, open and touchy, you thought your mind was only playing tricks on you. You thought that he was only mimicking what he saw on TV and what he learned about the world. You only thought he was doing these things to appear more human. 

But, he just is. He’s human– or, almost human. He wants to be human enough to be with you. 

You realize this tonight, as he helps you brush your hair out after a shower. You were already tired from a stressful day at work, and as you arrived home to Yuji you mumbled that you'd skip dinner and just go to sleep. But he caught you before you could dive into the comfort of your bed, pulling you closer into him as he mumbled into your hair to let him help you take care of yourself. 

You were drained, nearly falling asleep in the shower as the warm water kissed your skin, lulling you. It took forever to move– to scrub, to rinse, to clean your hair. A tired part of your heart wanted to ask Yuji for help, but a sensible corner of your mind told you that you probably shouldn't. 

Not that you were uncomfortable with the idea, but a part of you was nervous– what would he say, what would he think? Would he think you’re showing him a tainted world, trying to muddle his light by asking him to step in and help? To let this angel see you undressed, touch your bare skin, let you slump against him in the heat. 

Lazily, you managed to get clean and turn off the shower. 

Yuji hears your muffled voice call for him from the bathroom. He’s a little nervous, perhaps the good kind of nervous, as he approaches the bathroom. 

You open the door and it's a little foggy, the heat clouding you both and giving you a little bit of a glow. You smile sheepishly up at him and he can only blush back, a warm feeling sneaking up his spine, over his shoulders and down his chest. 

“Can you…” You start, gesturing towards the bottle of pretty scented lotion on the bathroom counter. “Can you help me? And… my hair, too…” 

You sound so sleepy. Yuji just wants to wrap you up in his arms and sleep beside you. 

He sits you down on the toilet, warming up the cream between his hands before running his palms down your arms, around your shoulders. He notices your towel dropping lower and lower down your chest and makes sure not to look. 

He sits on his knees and kneads the lotion onto your legs, making you laugh when he slathers it all over your feet. You apologize for giggling and twitching but then playfully remind him You’re my angel after all, you must look over me. It's not a demand, only some gentle banter, but Yuji thinks (and is too nervous to voice) that he would take care of you regardless. Angel, human, demon– he would watch over you time and time again. 

You get up and turn around so that he can help moisturize as much of your upper back as he can, swallowing nervously as your towel slips lower and lower. And before it can travel dangerously low, before he thinks he feels his temperature rising, before he can comment on just exactly how hot the bathroom is (which would be a first– he’s not very sensitive to temperature) you’re weakly skipping into your room to slip on some pajamas. 

You're not gone for long, coming back so he can help you with your hair. 

The mirror starts clearing up, steam fading away as he carefully runs a comb through the damp strands, careful to not yank on your head and to make sure the bristles don't bite at your ears. You’re reading the back of soap bottle label to keep your thoughts occupied, to keep you from thinking about how nice this is, to keep you from thinking about how much you love this, how much you love him— 

Yuji quietly announces that he’s finished, and out of some newfound courage, he circles around to face you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

The both of you freeze, the moment feeling far too intimate and normal and right, like the two of you belong together. 

He steps back, sort of dumbfounded by his own actions, opening his mouth to apologize. He tries to come up with an excuse fast, thinks of playing dumb and telling you he saw it in a movie and thought maybe he should try, as if he doesn't know the meaning behind such an action.

But you only smile bashfully at him, take his hand in yours, and tell him, “Let’s go sleep.” 

After all, you knew that he knew what it meant.

It’s the first time that Yuji has ever laid in the same bed as you, and it pains him. It pains him because you look so comfortable, clinging onto his arm, and he knows he cannot stay. His little silent love confession earlier had spoken for itself. He knows he can't push it off for any longer, knows that he must reap what he sows. Carefully, he pries you off of himself, stopping his movement for a moment to get one last look at you. And he thinks, well, it wouldn't hurt to do it one more time, right? Since he’s going to face punishment, may as well do it anyway. 

Yuji smiles at your sleeping form, leans forward, and kisses the top of your forehead. His voice is cracked and dry as he weakly mutters an I love you against your skin, another confession that’ll reach you in your dream tonight. 

He makes his way out of your bedroom and plants himself in the living room, in front of the couch. Yuji kneels, elbows resting on the couch cushions as he shuts his eyes and prays. He prays, and prays, and prays– and then he’s gone. 

The living room is quiet, and empty. You’re alone in your apartment again.

And Yuji lies, draped at the feet of God. 

Yuji confesses, unabashedly, to his creator. 

He loves you. He loves you in the way that humans do. He tells God nervously that he loves you in a way that he’s not sure he’s supposed to, but he does, anyway. 

And through confession, God is forgiving. 

Yuji's not sure what’s going to happen. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn't want to think about it– about his actions, about God, about what’s coming for him. Even if and when (he suspects) he faces pain, he just wants to think about you. 

His mind feels muddy and weird and every single memory he has becomes warbled, and he's grabbing at his hair and cradling his head at the feet of God. He’s not sure what's happening, and then, he’s not exactly sure where he is. But his silent wish is granted, because as all these things he knows start fading away, he sees you clearly. He sees you, you, and you, and his heart feels so happy. And he stays happy, even as he feels like he’s tripping and spiraling into some sort of darkness. 

It’s dark. He’s quiet. He’s asleep.

Yuji wakes but doesn't open his eyes, tries to think about what's going on. There are clear images and memories of you upfront in his mind, but all of his other memories seem distant and hard to grasp, like an oncoming sneeze that never releases. Flashes of light, of people he thinks he knows… he’s not sure. Scruffy black hair, short and smooth orange hair. Robes, gowns, soft cushioning on the ground that nearly feels like clouds….. he can't put his finger on it.

When he opens his eyes, he’s laying on a couch in a living room. Your living room, he realizes. He scrambles to get up, to situate himself, and when he sees you sleepily creep out of your room, he dashes towards you. 

Within seconds, his hands are all over you, awkward and clumsy, unsure of where to stay until you guide them to cup your cheeks. His lips are on yours, and he’s leaning into you so intensely that you have to grab onto his biceps to balance yourself. You sigh into the kiss, happily so. 

Everything clicks for him. He knows he’s meant to be here. He’s got this faded idea, some faded memory that regards him being different than you, but he wastes no time to dwell on it now. He can think and talk about it later.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and then kiss some more. He’s devouring you– kissing you slow, then kissing you fast, then peppering kisses all over your face. He’s no longer afraid to try out everything he’s seen. 

When he finally pulls away to let the both of you breathe (for some reason, he feels his lungs begging for air– an unfamiliar feeling) you laugh shakily, on the verge of asking him heaps of questions. 

But then his stomach rumbles. It rumbles, something that you're sure has never happened before, and Yuji says so naturally like he’s felt it his whole entire life, “God– I’m so hungry.” 

The two of you cook, then eat, then kiss some more. He gets up a few times to pee. Later on, he burps shyly into his curled up hand. He tells you he’s a little cold, asks you to come over and let him hold you (for the sake of warming up). 

And you know– you know, with all your heart, that he’s yours. He’s yours for forever, for however long the two of you will live. 

Later on that night, you thank the Heavens.

[annebd]

i’ve often thought that the daily wordle guess list could be fun as a quick fic prompt. i finally got around to giving it a try. my guesses for the day are listed at the end, with the correct answer in bold. spoiler if you haven’t done today’s wordle. :)

Daniel is pumped. It’s the first day of summer break, and he has decided: diets be damned, they’re eating good tonight. He’ll readily admit that he’s not the world’s best cook- he’s mostly survived this far on meal prepped food from his trainers, or takeout from a rotating list of three restaurants near his place in Monaco that don’t get too annoyed with all of his allergy and dietary restriction requirements. But he’s not entirely hopeless. He can fire up a grill and throw some steak on it, and it doesn’t take too much effort to toss together a quick salad and a baked potato. Simple fare, but delicious. It’s going to be great, and he knows Max will enjoy the home cooked meal as much as he will.

He bounds into the apartment and toes off his shoes at the door while calling out, “Maximus Decimus! The gods have decided- tonight we feast! And by ‘gods,’ I mean me. I’ve decided. Steaks, baby. The shop had filets on sale.”

There’s no reply. Daniel strolls further into the apartment, poking his head into the living room, where he expects to find Max zoned into his sim rig, headphones on and unaware of the outside world. But the living room is empty, save for Sassy perched delicately on the very top of the bookshelf, cleaning her face with a paw. Daniel frowns- had Max gone out? He hadn’t mentioned anything when they’d texted earlier.

He meanders into the kitchen, dropping off the dinner supplies on the counter and giving Jimmy, who chooses that moment to weave between his legs as a quick “hello,” a scritch on the head. “Where’s your daddy wandered off to, hmm?” he asks.

Jimmy gives an unhelpful “mrow?” in response, which Daniel accepts as the best answer he’s likely to get.

He leaves the kitchen and turns to head down the short hallway towards their bedroom, where he hears the faint twinkling of music. As he gets closer and then finally pushes the door open, he realizes that the TV is on low in the background. It’s some random infomercial with a slightly overzealous flute solo as the musical accompaniment to the attempt at advertising various kitchen gadgets. Daniel didn’t realize infomercials were even a thing anymore.

The room is mostly in darkness, the curtains drawn, just a hint of late afternoon sun spilling a strip of warmth across the foot of the bed. He doesn’t see Max at first, until he notices the lump of covers on the bed slowly rising and falling. Daniel peeks over the edge of the duvet and sees a tuft of blond hair sticking out. He pulls back the corner and sees Max, sound asleep, curled into the fetal position with his hands tucked under his chin. His cheeks are flushed blush pink, and his breaths are coming slow and deep.

It’s been a long season already, and Daniel knows the bone deep exhaustion that can settle in. Max has needed this. Daniel brushes his thumb across Max’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. It springs right back- the fresh haircut leaving it slightly too short to be tamed in that way.

The clock on the nightstand reads 16:26. Plenty of time for a quick nap before their feast of kings. Daniel turns the TV off, sending the room into a pleasant silence, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Max’s breathing. Daniel rounds the other side of the bed and pulls back the covers. He slides in behind Max, fits his body around the curve of Max’s, sliding one arm over his waist to rest over his heart, and tangling their feet together. He presses a gentle kiss to Max’s shoulder.

Max stirs for a moment, offers a mumbled “hrmph?”

Daniel rubs his chest softly and shushes him. “Go back to sleep, Maxy. We’ve got time.”

They sleep.

-

fresh/flute/fetal/filet