#and then when they chased him in space and he was just like YAWN SEE YA

[almondcroissantsandink]

the way Din had zero time for those losers

[wanologic]

Danny wakes up. It feels different now that he’s older. Now that he’s both more and less than he was. He starts mornings out floaty, his edges indistinct, bleeding into his surroundings. He’s hyper-aware of the tentative strings connecting him to life, the blood pumping sluggishly through his veins, the breath expanding the lungs within his chest. 

He yawns. A stretch.

His brain feels like an old computer booting up, each process coming online in a slow, methodical order. Neurons firing, electric pulses traveling up and down the webbed network of sinew tangled through his skeleton. He feels the pressure of atmosphere on his skin, the floor under his feet.

It’s weird. Not uncomfortable, just strange. It’s been years, but it’s never been easy to come to terms with the new awareness of his physicality, the control he could exert over its expression and shape. What once was instinctual, settled, now flows through his fingers like water, rising and falling with the rhythm of his chest. He would say that he’s just tired, that he’s never been a morning person, but the simmer of dawn and the infinite thrumming energy beneath his skin beg to differ.

He makes his way to the bathroom. He might have walked, but probably not, he can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter. There are only friends here. He’s safe. Home.

The routine of the morning is grounding. Always the same. Jazz says it should help. That it can all become instinctual again, through enough repetition. Danny isn’t so sure.

He takes his time putting together his outfit, picking accessories and being mindful of the way it all fits against him. His body might be a projection, something just to the left of real, but clothes are normal, socks, rings, a watch. He can feel normal like this. 

Another stretch. 

He wants to scream.

He makes his way down to the shared living space. He’s grateful that he’s not crammed into a tiny apartment with strangers, that he’s allowed both the time and space to be what he is. Sam’s parents may not be the most accommodating, but this is worth every glare and snide, underhanded comment he’s had to put up with for the better part of the past decade.

He knows what comes next, but his stomach rolls in his gut. He should have something solid, go through the remaining motions of self-care, even if it’s a bowl of cereal and a piece of fruit. 

He grimaces and grabs a less-than-pleasant nutritional shake from the fridge. They’re supposed to be back up, an addition-to rather than in-replacement-of, but it’s early and he can’t bring himself to care. He finds himself on the roof, with the chilled bite of the morning and the chalky pseudo-chocolate flavor of his breakfast on his tongue.

He longs to shed this husk, to leave the weight of his flesh behind and see what the sunrise looks like from ten thousand feet. But it’s a Tuesday and he has an 8am. He wants equally to be the college student he is, to sit with his peers and bring numbers to their algorithmic conclusions—to describe the world around him in a way that makes sense, in a way that’s objectively true. One day he might even be able to describe what happened to him in a neat little equation. 

He breathes in and out, feeling heavy in his body. This is nice too, he supposes. He shuts his eyes and feels the brunt of the morning sun peek over the neighboring apartment complex. When he hears his friends shuffling about in their own morning fugue states, he sinks back inside. 

Tucker just about jumps out of his skin when he turns around, eyes half closed, to see Danny dressed and ready, silent, and much too close behind him.

Laughter peels through the house as Danny is chased through the halls and somehow he feels human.

[lyyhyuck]

fluff; bestfriend!haechan x reader, words: 565.

🎧 chasing cars - snow patrol and there is a light that never goes out - the smiths

“every time i’m here, i get jealous of your blanket. seriously what material is this? its crazy how its so soft. i’ve never had bed sheets this soft”, your best friend, haechan, said, truly sounding amazed. you looked over and saw that he completely buried himself in your blanket, only his head sticking out.

it made you laugh lightly, but you didn’t answer. you focused on your homework while haechan just enjoyed doing nothing and lying around. the room was filled with the smell of tea. your cup freshly refilled and hot, while haechan‘s cup was only half full and already cold, standing on your night stand.

“and im jealous of you because you can lay there stress-free”, you replied, but facing him with your back since you’re sitting at your desk. he watched you doing your assignment for a minute or two, not wanting to interrupt you because he knew you get the most amount of stuff done when you’re in a ‘flow’ like now.

you apologized to your best friend for having to work first and put on headphones and finished your work in about thirty minutes. when you turned around on your desk chair, you see haechan has dozed off. a soft smile spread on your lips and you decided to let him nap for a while. you packed your bag for the next day, then grabbed your phone and made yourself comfortable on the space that was left of your bed, being careful not to wake him up.

another twenty minutes passed before haechan woke up, stretching and yawning. “rise and shine!” you greeted him. he laughed quietly, “shut up”.

“i’d really like to have my bed back”, you said. “too bad it’s mine now”, hyuck sticked out his tongue at you. you shrugged, “not like we haven’t shared a bed before”, and lifted up the blanket to get under it too. “hey, move!”, you told haechan, who just stared at you at first but then did move. you snuggled into your sheets, which were indeed very cozy - haechan did not exaggerate this time - and didn’t even notice how your best friend tensed up next to you.

“sorry”, you mumbled, “you probably expected a more exciting hang out than this.”

“no”, haechan said, “i knew what i signed up for when i texted this morning.”

you had to laugh, “why would you want to hang out here when i would be busy studying? are my sheets really that great?” haechan smiled “well yeah they are great. but-“, he paused, “i just wanted to spend time with you”. your heart melted at the way he looked at you. the moment suddenly felt very intimate.

your body acted before you could think and you snuggled into haechans side. he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.

the room fell quiet for a while and you just enjoyed the moment, butterflys dancing around in your stomach.

“you know”, you hesitantly said, “i just wanted to spend time with you, too.” haechan kissed the crown of your head then. immediately, your cheeks turned red but you turned around to look him in the eyes nonetheless. you grinned, “i would always choose your company over anything even if it means that i study while you sleep”.

haechan kissed you.

masterlist

[suiana]

"Rewind?"

As a patient in a hospital, you swear that you're living the same day over and over. However, your doctor assures you that you're simply hallucinating.

Warnings: manipulation, obsession, classic yandere stuff idk, gn reader

[Day 2]

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

Waking up in the same hospital bed, you smile as the thought of getting better fills your thoughts. Yes! A brand new day! You can already feel your body getting better and better!

"I can't wait to finally leave this place..."

You mutter to yourself, smiling softly as a soft knock comes from outside. You feel your heart race as the sigh of someone familiar enters, a small paper bag of baked goodies in one hand as he smiles down at you kindly.

"Doctor!"

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

You greet cheerfully, beaming at the handsome doctor who walks over to you with a smile who greets you back with a soft smile. You feel your heart warm slightly at him, butterflies in your tummy as he comes close to you.

Doctor Anthony Eurwen.

That's who he was. A genius young man who became a doctor at the age of 24. He was highly respected in the medical field, having achieved so much at his young age and right now, he's your doctor. Well, he has been for quite some time now. You suppose 3 months now?

He takes care of you personally and you wouldn't have it any other way. Why would you? A genius doctor caring for you one on one! You would have to be a fool to pass up this opportunity! Not to mention the fact that he was quite dashing...

Neat black hair along with brown eyes that shined golden under the sun, his facial features were no joke.

You were sure he had both girls and guys chasing after him. I mean, he was very handsome, intelligent, and had a nice personality. What isn't there to love about him?

...And that's why you developed a small crush on him.

Not like you'd ever confess though! You knew you'd be rejected in an instant, so there was really no point in trying in the first place. Plus, you knew that it was against ethics for a doctor to date a patient they're caring for. If you wanted to try your luck you'd have to wait until you were well enough to go home.

"y/n? You're spacing out, are you okay?"

You snap out of your thoughts, blinking repeatedly as your doctor presses a hand against your forehead in a worry. You immediately shake your head, laughing awkwardly as you feel your cheeks flush a dark hue.

"Ha-ha... Doctor I'm fine! Just... daydreaming is all!"

You choke out, smiling awkwardly at your doctor who purses his lips, clearly unconvinced by your words.

"Really? Hm... If you say so."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, reluctantly taking his hand away from your forehead. You see him pause for a second, grip tightening on the paper bag of baked delights before relaxing.

"If you're not feeling well, you must tell me, y/n. I am your doctor and I just want you to get better."

He sighs, looking at you with a... loving? look in his eyes. Huh... loving? You never thought you'd describe his eyes as loving, especially towards you of all people! Haha, maybe it's a platonic type of love!

You nod at him, smiling awkwardly before looking at the small paper bag he held before gesturing to it.

"Doctor, what's that? Is that for me?"

You hum, staring curiously at the bag that smelled wonderful. You wonder whether he bought that for you or for himself. Or maybe he bought it for both of you to share?He'd do that once in a while when he was feeling hungry.

Doctor Eurwen looks down at the paper bag, smiling slightly as he places it on your table, opening it before taking out a small croissant.

"It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

He hums, pushing the small bag towards you as he munches on his croissant. You feel your heart flutter at his words, eyes widening as you look at the paper bag that carried another croissant in it. Ah, so he did get it for you! How nice of him...

"Thank you doctor, you really didn't have to. The hospital will get me breakfast later..."

"Don't worry about it, just treat this as a small snack."

He chuckles, smiling at you before he takes out his phone to show you a picture of his dog. Right! He had a dachshund dog that he treated like his own daughter!

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

The young doctor sighs, showing you some videos of his beloved puppy before looking at you with a cheeky grin. You can't help but feel your heart skip a beat at his attractive face.

"y/n, after you get better, we should go for a walk sometime. We can walk Milly together."

He proposes, looking down at his phone before chuckling softly. His cheeks were a soft pink, eyes clouded with happiness as you freeze in place, gulping nervously as you feel yourself grow hot at the sight of your doctor.

You try to answer, but your mouth was dry and your brain refused to cooperate normally, rendering your ability to speak useless at the sight of the handsome man. So you opted to nodding instead, laughing awkwardly as you avert your eyes elsewhere.

Damn, that was embarrassing as hell.

"Anyway, I'll be back with your medicine and check up later. Enjoy the croissant I got for you."

He mumbles, backing away as he pats your head. You watch as he leaves the room quietly, not mentioning anything about your flustered state. As soon as he was gone and the door to your room clicked shut, you let out a silent sigh of relief.

Thank god he left. You swear that you'd die from embarrassment if he remained in your presence any longer.

Shaking your head, you stretch slightly before looking out the window. What a beautiful day it was today! You can't wait for later and the following days to come!

...

A warm breeze kisses your skin gently, the smell of freshly cut flowers as well as sanitized equipment invades your senses as you rub your eyes and let out a soft yawn.

You immediately shoot out of bed, eyes wide as you observe your surroundings cautiously.

What? Flowers? You were sure that Doctor Eurwen removed them yesterday after the check-up...

You stare at the clear vase in confusion, looking around your room before the footsteps of someone familiar walks in. Doctor Eurwen! Maybe he'd know what's up!

"Doctor!"

However, you feel your heart sink slightly at the sight of the same small paper bag that you were quite sure you threw away yesterday. What the hell was going on? Oh, wait, the bakery was nearby so he migt've just gotten it again today, right? Haha...

"Well hello to you too, y/n."

What the- The same exact greeting too? Nah, this has to be some sort of joke. Right, a joke! He probably placed the flowers back there to play a little prank on you... Of course!

"Doctor, is- is this a joke? Haha... You did the same thing yesterday..."

"What? y/n are you alright? What are you talking about?"

Doctor Eurwen frowns at your words, walking towards you as he places the small paper bag down and reaches out his hand to touch your forehead. You can't help but flinch at his touch, looking up at him with a confused expression.

"Doctor, I swear you threw those flowers out yesterday! And you definitely bought the same exact pastries! That bag looks exactly like yesterday's! Why are you playing a prank on me?"

You whimper, looking at him as you look for him for an answer. Unfortunately, all you got was his concerned gaze and furrowed eyebrows as an answer.

"y/n, I didn't do that... Are you okay? Are you having delusions again? Maybe we should adminster you a different medicine..."

You stare at him in shock, not understanding what was happening. Wait, you were so sure that yesterday actually happened. Is this just a dream? But it can't be! Everything feels too real!

"Anyway, It's for both of us. I was hungry and bought a croissant for myself. Then I thought I'd get my favourite patient a little something as well."

Doctor Eurwen mumbles, gesturing to the paper bag of goodies on your table. But before you could protest any further, he says something which sends you into even more of a frenzy.

"Milly gained some weight recently. She's been eating too much. I should reduce her treats."

What the hell? That was the same exact line as from yesterday! You furrow your eyebrows at the doctor, chewing on your bottom lip as he talks about his pet dog before leaving the room, exactly the same way as yesterday. After he left, you couldn't help but throw the croissant into the trashbin.

Just what the hell was going on?

[yuellii]

catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”

[niceutossu]

Arguments | Atsumu x Reader

You had known the moment you began dating Atsumu that volleyball would always come before anything, whether that was the dates that had already been planned or seeing each other more than once a week you knew, so you were never really hurt. Volleyball was something he was so passionate about and devoted to, seeing his eyes light up every time he got to play never got old. No, your boyfriend’s obsession for the sport never bothered you, in fact you even admired him for his devotion.

What did bother you though was when he would bring up his commitment to the sport every time the two of you would argue. The small bickering you would have occasionally never triggered it but the bigger fights you two had did. Every time you would express any sort of irritation or insecurity against Atsumu because of his schedule, his lack of communication, or anything else in between he would bring up the same point: he was committed to volleyball above all else.

Volleyball was his priority.

Volleyball was his career.

Volleyball was something he loved long before he loved you.

Well he had never said the last one but that’s how it felt like in your eyes. After countless missed dates, calls, hugs, and everything else a boyfriend was meant to provide it was easy to tell why you had become so insecure. You had beat into your head that you weren’t nearly as much of a priority to him as the sport he loved. It hurt to not be on par with a sport of all things, but you would never admit that to him. You never wanted to be the clingy partner who prevented him from chasing his dreams but you couldn’t help the insecurity that had built up so high it was close to bursting out as Atsumu somehow devoted even more of himself to volleyball.

It all came crashing down when you confronted him after yet another one of his late practices, so sick of the empty bed and unopened messages and your entire one sided relationship.

You were laying on the couch in your empty living room, a random movie playing in the background as you rubbed at your tired eyes. It was late and you were waiting for Atsumu in hopes of planning the next date, or even just the next interaction the two of you would have.

Important matches had been piling up on Atsumu and the pressure to be the best setter he could be was clearly pushing him to work harder than ever. At first you had been completely understanding when he told you he might not be able to spend as much time with you as he focused more on practicing, after all you had seen firsthand how hard he had been working towards his dreams.

Yet your unwavering support began to falter when you realized that your time together would become nonexistent. You had hoped that limited time would at least mean you got to talk before bed or kiss each other goodbye in the morning. Instead limited time had become no time at all, the last time you had seen and had a conversation longer than three words with Atsumu was almost three weeks ago. Your heart sank at the thought as you gently wrapped your arms around yourself, almost letting yourself succumb to a lonely sleep before you heard the front door unlock and creak open gently.

Atsumu walked through the door with a heavy sigh while setting down his duffel bag and some takeout garbage. He rubbed at his own tired eyes as his shoulders slumped before he finally noticed your presence on the couch, a tight smile forming on his lips as he made his way over to you.

“Why are you still awake?” He asked tiredly as he tried to hold back a yawn.

“I was hoping we could talk.” You said gently as you adjusted yourself on the couch to give him a space to sit, he remained standing though with an unreadable expression as you suddenly felt nervous under his tired gaze.

“Sorry but can’t we do this tomorrow or something? I’m really tired and I have early morning practice so,” Atsumu said expectantly as he began making his way towards your shared bedroom not even letting you respond.

“‘Atsumu are you serious? It’s not like that will even happen with how busy you are, so busy apparently you can’t even give me a minute to talk.” You snapped, feeling irritated that his immediate response was to shut you down.

“Oh my god yer not starting this I told you I was gonna be busy why are you treating me like the bad guy now, I warned ya didn’t I?” He snapped back as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“I haven’t seen you in literal weeks Atsumu, you come home when I’m asleep and leave before I wake up. The only thing we’ve done as a couple is sleep next to each other.” You say as you start to get angrier, the glare Atsumu sends your way pissing you off even more. It had started to feel like you were his roommate more than his lover and it only added on to your growing insecurities.

“I don’t know how you think I can remain one of Japan’s best setters without practicing every single day sweetheart.” Atsumu said, the sweet nickname being laced with a mean bite to it as he tried to his best to keep his temper in check, which was becoming harder by the second the way as he thought about why you wouldn’t let go of what he thought was such a stupid conversation. He didn’t feel like he needed to justify his devotion, you already knew how much this meant to him. Why couldn’t you just continue to support him even if it meant not seeing him that much?

“Obviously I know you have to practice Atsumu,” You said with an annoyed tone as you tried your best to calm down and be civil despite the anger coursing through every part of you. As much as you wanted to be openly upset and clingy and cry about how much you missed him you still had your pride and he should be willing to spend a bit more time with you, you were his lover after all.

“I love that you can pour everything you have into volleyball but I also miss my boyfriend. I’m not asking you to choose one or the other I just want to spend a fraction of the time you spend on volleyball together.” You finished calmly, gaze softening as your hopeful eyes met Atsumu’s irritated glare.

“Is that it? Yer just feeling needy? You know how important this is to me and you still are always asking me for such annoying things. Volleyball has always and will always come first, okay? I don’t get what you’re thinking but the most important thing to me right now isn’t spending time with you it’s-“ Before Atsumu could finish he met your gaze as the angry tears you had been trying so hard to hold back finally began to fall.

“Volleyball! I know god I know. Volleyball is your job, volleyball is your passion, volleyball is your life I fucking know Atsumu. God I know that I come second every time too- god don’t you think I know that?” You asked, voice going embarrassingly high pitched towards the end as the sobs you had tried to so desperately keep in finally tumbled out of you.

“I thought maybe if I was second to someone like you it would feel like first but it doesn’t, you don’t even care about me- god I’m sorry that me loving you is so,” You stopped trying to fight against your shaky voice to speak and instead let yourself succumb to your loud hiccups and cries.

“Annoying.” You managed to finish in a hoarse voice, repeating his earlier words as you looked up to meet eyes glazed over with obvious anxiousness and regret. Atsumu had never been the best at words like he was at volleyball, it had been fun to joke around about it before but right now, when you needed his reassurance more than ever, you found it the be the least funny thing in the world.

At his silence after your words you scoffed as you got up from the couch and walked past him silently to your shared bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you as tears continued to stream down your face. The bubbling anger that once tormented your stomach had turned into a pitiful ache of insecurity, one that had you sobbing into your pillow while Atsumu remained outside listening to your cries.

He stayed glued to his spot in the kitchen, eyes staring at the door you had closed behind you while his mind raced endlessly.

The truth was Atsumu had no idea how he was going to fix this, therefore he had said nothing to you. He had never seen in you in such a state during an argument, his brain kept replaying the look of pure devastation that flashed in your pretty eyes the moment he decided to be an asshole and bring up his commitment to volleyball. He knew you understood his love for the sport, god-you were the one who was always in the stands, staying up late after practice hours to tell him good night and waking up early to wish him good luck for matches, and trying your hardest to synch up your lives together. He had been so stuck in his own selfish ways that he failed to notice how much you needed him.

You had been giving him your all and more and he had not even spared you a moment’s time. He had felt lonely too but when he would get notifications with your sweet messages, sleepy kisses in the morning, and gentle good lucks before every game no matter what were enough for him to be reminded of your support. Yet he had offered none of the same in return, his heart ached at the thought of just how lonely you must have been. He had rarely replied to your messages or even provided you with a fraction of the love you gave him.

That’s why he felt like such shit, because you had been putting in so much effort to make things work and he had been afraid. Afraid of how much he started to care about you, afraid of how much he started to depend on you, afraid that you meant as much to him as volleyball because no one had ever meant that much to him. He was especially afraid of the day where he would have to choose, that was until he was reminded that he would never have to, you would never make him. He knows that and he feels his heart tighten as he continues to reflect while desperately gnawing on his bottom lip.

He feels like he’s going crazy thinking about how’s he going to fix it, wanting nothing more than to barge into your shared bedroom begging for forgiveness on his hands and knees but deciding it was better to give you some space. He had been an asshole after all, the least he could do was not force you to listen to any more of his bullshit. Right before he started to get ready for a night on the couch he heard your door unlocking and whipped his head to see your tear-stained face poke through as you shuffled out.

Atsumu immediately straightened up as he met your gaze, still feeling unsure of what to say but knowing he has to say something, anything. You deserve it and he knows that but he’s suffocated by the guilt that overcomes him as he remembers just how much you love him, and that if he truly did love you more you wouldn’t have been crying over him a few minutes ago.

“I’m sorry,” Atsumu begins, words unsure and timid as he looks up at you for permission to continue. He feels himself perk at your slight nod.

“I didn’t mean what I said and, and,” Atsumu continues as he struggles for the right words to find. This was one of the things that pained Atsumu about being madly in love was that there was no way for him to the word the important things. A part of him really wishes he could go back in time and beat himself up so he could just hug you right now, avoiding using words entirely.

“And you know that I’m really bad at apologies just like how you know everything about me and I think I love you just as much, no- more than what I do because I get to do it with you. So, I’m sorry for being so difficult. You aren’t ever second, yer my everything.” Atsumu finished as he felt himself flush hot at the confession. Another thing that pained Atsumu about being madly in love was that he had never been this vulnerable with anyone before, you brought out even the most hidden parts of him it seemed.

It was quiet for a moment as Atsumu stared you down for a response after having poured his heart out. He receives it in the form of a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as you look up at him with those dazzling eyes, albeit a bit ringed with red from crying, your chin digging into his stomach as you smile gently.

“I missed you ‘Tsumu.” You said softly into the fabric of his shirt as he brought his hands down to smooth down your hair, arms eventually wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

“I’ll be here now.” He said softly as he melted in you.

[campingwiththecharmings]

Birthday

AN: Yeah, um, idk y’all. I meant for this to be like just a little sad and somehow this happened a;dlksdl;kd. I kinda like it though? idk. Totally fair if it’s not for you, no worries. Thanks for reading if you choose to ❤️ Credit for the idea comes from this post (many thanks). I did have another idea that was more domestic so maybe I'll do that one later as a pallet cleanser lmao

(Un-beta’d)

It's Poe's birthday and all he wants is to spend it with you.

Rated: T Words: 1,016 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: Angst, feelings of loneliness/sadness/loss, kind of a bittersweet (but hopeful?) ending. AO3

——————

The morning sunlight streams into the room, warming the air to the point where Poe is kicking his sheets to the end of the bed. The climate on D’Qar was usually pretty balmy, but somehow it always seemed to get worse around this time of year. Poe stretches, his arm brushing the empty space where your body had lain mere hours before. He sighs, disappointment settling in his belly. He loves waking up with you, thinks it’s the perfect way to start his day—the two of you tangled together, exchanging raspy “good mornings,” smiles, and languid kisses.  

Maybe tomorrow, he thinks, rolling out of his bed with a grunt. He runs his hand over BB-8’s domed head on his way to the fresher, yawning a ‘good morning’ to the droid (who chirps merrily) as he readies himself for another long day. The light flickers on when he opens the door, the brightness of it making him squint as he heads over to the sink. He brushes his teeth, splashes some water on his face, and is looking around for his comb when he sees the piece of paper stuck to the mirror. His lips quirk when he recognizes the familiar scrawl of your handwriting, his eyes fondly tracing the slopes and angles of your words. 

Happy Birthday, Poe ❤️, it says, followed by another line where you tell him you’ve left a surprise for him (his favorite breakfast) on his desk.  

Sure, he would’ve preferred waking up with you, especially today, but this is good too, he supposes. 

Your note (which he may or may not be carrying around in his pocket) and gift lighten his heart and boost his spirits, and he spends the morning smiling and graciously accepting birthday wishes from what feels like every member of the Resistance. He tries stopping by your workstation sometime around late morning, but is told you’re off-base on a repair. His mood is dampened a bit, but he tries not to let it get to him, knowing the two of you will run into each other eventually, as you always do. 

As the day goes on though, Poe only gets more frustrated, seeming to just miss you every time he has a free moment to look. When he returns from flying drills with his squad, he gets word that you’d stopped by the hangar looking for him, but he gets pulled into something else before he gets the chance to chase you down. BB does his best to raise his spirits but even the little droid can tell that your absence is taking a toll. 

The day flies by, the moons rising over the base before Poe even notices the time. He’s exhausted, so much so he turns down an offer for drinks at the cantina with Finn and Rey. All he wants is to fall into his bed and sleep (if only in hopes that he’ll get to wake up with you in his arms). He trudges back to his quarters, wearily running a hand through his hair. 

Poe keys in the code to open his door, shuffling inside the dark room with BB-8 in tow after it slides open. As it closes behind him, he pauses, a familiar scent reaching his nose. He turns, his eyes landing on a small, floating light. 

No wait, not just a light…a candle. 

BB-8 chirps happily beside him, rolling toward the light and the dimly lit familiar figure he now sees holding the candle.  

It’s you. Standing there in the middle of his room, holding what looks like a keshian spice roll topped with a single lit candle. Poe smiles, his heart lifting in his chest as his eyes meet yours. You smile back, holding his gaze as you begin to sing to him, your voice soft and sweet. The sound of it fills him with a warmth he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until now. He walks over, reaching you as you finish the final words of the song, his brown eyes alight with joy. 

“Thanks for being born, Flyboy,” you say, smiling fondly as he leans in to blow out the candle. 

Poe chuckles as cheers from you (and beeps from BB) fill the room. For some reason, the moment suddenly feels nostalgic, reminding him of his childhood on Yavin IV, of the celebrations he’d shared with his parents. The memories are bittersweet, from a simpler, more peaceful time in his life. He wonders if he’ll ever get to have that again, that peace. It feels impossible, the war with the First Order seemingly never ending. An ache settles in his chest at the thought. 

The familiar sensation of your hand slipping into his brings him back to the present, the gentle glow of his bedside lamp now illuminating the space. He can tell you want to ask, ask where he just went, ask if he’s okay given you’d both just been laughing a moment ago but…you don’t. Instead, you smile at him softly, squeezing his hand as you patiently wait for him to work through his feelings. He realizes then just how lucky he is. Sure, he’s smack dab in the middle of a war and, yes, he could die at any given moment but, he also has so much. He has a purpose, a place he belongs, people he loves; it’s in that (in them) that he finds his peace. 

Poe gazes at you, his brown eyes gentle and warm as they trace the lines of your face. Then he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You sigh, the fingers of your free hand bunching in the fabric of his shirt as you melt into him. After a moment, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Happy Birthday, Poe,” you breathe, smiling at him as you reach up to comb your fingers through his curls, your hand coming to rest at the base of his neck.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, the look in his eyes telling you he means for more than just the birthday wishes.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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[klttn]

Ahhhh I'm in love with your writing style, your dainty blog format and your personality 😭🙏🙏 MY soul left my body when I noticed you only have one adam fic.. Could I pls with cherry on top request adam headcanons or a fic (whatever is easier for you) with a constantly sleepy, lethargic gentle sloth-like reader? I just find the alot of energy + no energy dynamic super cute and funny. You can also add nsfw aspects onto it if you'd like! Idm, I just CRAVE to see how you'd write it. (I do this with every writer I hyperfixate on)

𐙚 ⋆˚ 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 ⋆ ｡ ྀི

— 𝜗𝜚 adam x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : a soft dive into how much adam loves his sleepy lil girl. spoiler alert. it’s a lot. nsfw. lil bit of smut. somnophilia. lots of praise. soft!adam. mention of murder cause execution day. adam has a god complex.

𝜗𝜚 adam always gives you a kiss before leaving for work in a morning. always. if he ever forgot, work would have to wait, he would be coming straight back to give you one. he just loves the sleepy look on your face and how you wrap yourself up on his side of the bed as soon as he leaves, nuzzling into his scent as if to chase it before it fades.

“so cute,” he’d mutter, planting a soft kiss atop your head, “sleepy girl.” a small yawn slipping past your lips as you clung to his pillow. “i love you baby, i’ll be back later.”

“mm love you too,” you mumbled back, eyes not opening, still half in a sleep sedated state, nuzzling into the pillow in your grasp, letting the feeling take over you once more.

“such a sleepyhead.”

𝜗𝜚 adam loves how sleepy you are, always. running on two hours of sleep or twelve, you’re always soft eyed and needy for cuddles and naps and he loves that it gives him an excuse to baby you at all times, mostly too lethargic to notice the subtle manipulative tone in his voice. able to have you wrapped around his finger and hanging off the praise that he showers you in. no room for arguments if you’re worshipping him like he was god himself.

“you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” he said it so casually like he was asking you how was your day was, eyes elsewhere, attention on something trivial, but he wouldn’t miss the hitch in your breath and the way your eyes would widen at his words.

a confused look waved over your face, head tilting like a puppies and a soft bite of your own lip filled your mouth. “huh?”

subtle smirk rising on adam’s face, his eyes now gracing your presence. “look at you, little girl, just a soft sleepy thing, you’re just a baby! my sleepy little girl.” a blush would creep up your face. “don’t know how you survived before me.” the words like honey to your ears as he moved closer into your space. “that’s why you’re lucky to have me, like a god to protect you so you don’t have to be anything more.”

in theory you shouldn’t like it but he made it taste oh so sweet.

𝜗𝜚 adam loves to shower you with compliments. for anything and everything you do, loves to make it known how cute you turn with the flustered expression on your face when he boasts and excitedly tells you just that. coaxing you out of your blankets n stuffies deserves you being praised after all.

“awh, pretty girl, look so cute in your blankets,” adam cooed, looming over you and peppering your face with soft kisses, energetic and powerful as always. “such a cute babygirl.” his large hands coming to leave gentle tickles to your sides, little giggles erupting from your throat, big grin plastering over your face.

“adam stoppp!!” fidgeting and squeaking and squirming under his touch and gaze. “tickles adam!!” but all he would do is look at you under his lidded eyes and thrive in the absolutely adorable noises and looks on your face.

“so adorable, baby.” he’d smile. “think you can leave this cuddle fest and come give your god some attention?”

a little huff escaped your lips, whining and burying yourself back into the comfort of your blankets “do i haveee to? you could cuddle with me!” a stern look covers adam’s face and the warning look has you melting, crawling into his lap. he didn’t say you had to get up, just that you had to leave your blankets and give him some attention. he can carry you if he wants you elsewhere. “didn’t say i have to get up hmph.”

“how dare i expect you to do such a thing,” his eyes roll and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you.

𝜗𝜚 he LOVES to show you off. in front of anyone who will let him. no matter who it was, hellspawn or heaven, everyone knew exactly who you were. adam loves showing you off almost as much as he loves telling everyone about how many sinners he’s killed on execution day. this also came hand in hand with him being very possessive over you though, so as much as he liked boasting about you, if you say the wrong thing about his girl or him, there would be angelic steel pressed up against your throat before you could finish the sentence.

“look at this babe!” he’d pull out his phone, innocent picture of you lit up on the screen. “yeah, this one’s mine, hot as fuck right?” chants of agreements flood back at him, fuelling his ego almost as much as you do, “speaking of the word fuck,” he winks, “this one can.”

that got the crowd cheering, his douche friends intrigued and curious, “yeah, bet she would look pretty with a cock in her mouth.” someone clearly has a death wish to say something like that to the adam.

he borderline growled, they were allowed to think such depraved thoughts only if he let them. only if he brought them up. “oh she does,” he was now in the guys face, making a point, “she looks adorable with my cock in her mouth, her eyes are so beautiful when she’s all sleepy and i’m fucking her throat.” emphasis on the ‘my’ and the ‘i’m’. “even when she sleeps, she’s the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” the last bit a little too domestic for adam’s usual taste.

lute scoffed, “going soft, sir?” she’d mock, the attention of the others looming over the pair.

“i’m about as soft as my dick is when i fuck her, so be careful with your words, danger tits or i will show you and everyone here, just how hard i can be.” and suddenly everyone stiffened, the innuendo lost out of fear of adam. a ‘sorry, sir,’ ushering out lutes mouth as she backs down as quick as she spoke up.

𝜗𝜚 as soft as adam could be, he was also a perv. a major one. so vulger and loved to do such depraved things to you. you were his little pillow princess and he thrived in the control he had over your body, so pliable and submissive for him. he loved it. you’d match the energy in return, wearing lewd things under your blankets just so when he’d pull them back, he’s be greeted with a sight to make him melt.

“shit, fuck, baby, what’s this?” his laugh borderline sadistic. “naughty girl. so innocent til i’m pulling these-“ he held the blankets in his hands. “-off you and look at the state of you, hard nipples, dripping cunt and that cute little innocent smile looking up at me, you’re just begging to get used, aren’t you?”

a giggle erupted from your lips, “maybe..” you spread your legs, teasing, “just a little.” you felt yourself shrinking at his gaze.

“yeah?” adam’s eyebrows raised, grin now showing his pointed teeth, “such a little tease, babygirl,” him now manhandling you, you letting him do whatever he pleased as he adjusted your pillows under your hips and got you ready for his cock, “fuck you’re really soaking them panties for me.”

needless to say you’d be a stuttering, mumbling mess after. sleepy and clinging to him on the comedown of your high.

𝜗𝜚 calling out for god during sex would he useless because adam already was your god. and he loved it, his god complex would sky rocket, cocky self only growing more so the more you’d shrink and whimper underneath him.

“oh my god, please, please, too much, please!” you begged, whining and soft tears slipping down your cheeks, wriggling and writhing to get away from the overwhelming pleasure.

“fuck that’s right, baby, i am your god.” adam quipped, the comment only making him fuck you harder.

𝜗𝜚 somnophilia!! having such a cute little sleepyhead as a girlfriend comes with its perks and that perk for adam was getting to fuck that pretty cunt whilst you slept and he was rock hard and horny. it was you that brought it up first, shyly, whispering how cute it would be n how much you wanted to try it. of course, who was adam to turn that down?

your sleeping body was something adam loved to admire, no clothes in the way, just soft skin and adam’s wondering hands -and cock- whilst you slept so peacefully.

he was addicted to the tightness of your pussy as he first slipped in, “fuck, fuck fuck, shit, god, so fucking tight.” curses would spew out of him as he bottomed out.

a soft gasp escaping you, stirring you as his cock pushed deep into your cervix.your eyes began to slip open, blinking a little without thought.

“no, no, baby, go back to sleep, shh, it’s okay, fuck, go back to sleep, little girl.” your hands clinging to the duvet, eyes fluttering shut and squeezing tight, “good girl, gooood girlll, just let me use you, my little sleepyhead.”

𝜗𝜚 adam’s aftercare was incredible. you did have to teach him at first but when he learnt, he was amazing at it. stroking your hair, cleaning you up, putting you to sleep, making sure you were safe, protected. anything you need. he’d be there.

“you did so good for me, baby,” adam shushed, “took me so well, you’re such a good girl.” your eyes glassy as he spoke, so deep and lost, you couldn’t help but stare up at him all doe eyed. “gonna take care of you, yeah? clean you up and get you in bed, that okay, sleepyhead?”

he felt a soft nod on his shoulder from where he was holding you, “good girl.” he chuckled at your ditzy state. “you just be cute in my arms baby, i’ll handle the rest.”

overall adam was the best ball of energy bf to your sleepy baby gf.

A/N : sleepyhead gf is my favourite <3

[remuswriting]

LET ME HOLD YOU CLOSE; OJIRO ARAN

Aran comes back from his morning run to find you still asleep.

TAGS: Domestic Fluff; Post Time-Skip; Male! Reader

WORD COUNT: 724 words

NOTES: I’m on day three of recovery from surgery but that won’t stop me from thinking about Aran! Please excuse any typos because it's very hard to write when in pain and your vision is blurry half the time <3

It’s quiet when Aran gets back from his morning run. You should be up right now, blasting music as you make coffee and toast in an attempt to wake up faster. Instead, all that’s heard throughout the house is the air conditioner blasting at full force due to how bad the summer heat has gotten.

Aran quietly discards his shoes next to the door and makes his way to the bedroom, where you’re still buried beneath the blankets and your soft snores fill the space. He chuckles at the sight as fondness spreads throughout his chest and warms him entirely. Although this is a sight he’ll never tire of, he walks over to the bed and gently sits down.

“Y/N,” he says softly, reaching out and touching your blanket covered shoulder. “It’s time to wake up.”

You grumble something as you move away from him, but he only follows you. The comforter is soft beneath his fingers as he keeps ahold of you.

“Y/N,” he says again, shaking your shoulder slightly.

“Go away,” you mumble, and your morning voice is deep and scratchy. Aran immediately feels dizzy at the sound, but he reminds himself he’s trying to wake you up. He’s not trying to start something so early in the morning.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t get up,” he says. (He doesn’t know it, but that’s not entirely true. You’ve always just woken up earlier so you two can spend a little more time together.)

You open your eyes and glare at him, making him flinch slightly and let go. “I don’t care,” you say before snuggling into the blankets even more. “Go away.”

Aran looks down at you, and it probably says something about him that this makes his heart feel so full. Even with you being stubborn and grumpy this morning, he can’t imagine being anywhere else. Really, this is the only place he wants to be. Maybe he’s just soft for his boyfriend, which he’ll never be ashamed of.

“Baby,” he says, but you don’t move. “Come on.”

When you don’t respond, he moves to place a kiss on the top of your head, even though it’s hard to see with all the blankets. He moves and presses several more kisses to the top of your head as he moves the blanket down, and you move slightly, making it harder to do so. Suddenly, he’s being pulled down to be properly kissed by you.

Although he just faced the summer heat on his run, how warm you are from the blankets and sleep is so nice. You sit up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, which has him grabbing your waist to keep steady. You’re both chest to chest, and the kisses are soft and slow, but they make Aran dizzy, regardless.

You pull away first, and he chases after you, which makes you chuckle slightly. It’s rougher than normal because of your vocal cords not being warmed up yet. Aran looks up at your eyes, and they’re still full of sleep. There’s something so soft and lovely about you early in the morning that has him wanting to stay.

“It’s 6 AM,” you say with a soft yawn. “You couldn’t have given me another 30 minutes?”

“Missed you,” he says, and you laugh a little.

“Is sleeping next to me not enough?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

You pull him down as you grab the blanket again before pressing yourself against him. “Try to make it enough for the next 30 minutes.”

Aran watches you close your eyes and snuggle into the crook of his neck. All he hears is your breathing and the air conditioner. “Are you really just going back to sleep?” he asks, and you huff, your breath tickling his neck.

“I’m trying to,” you say before pressing a kiss to his neck. “Why don’t you try as well?”

He doesn’t say that he can’t fall asleep once he’s woken up like this. His morning runs wake him up to start his entire day, so no matter how comfortable he gets, he won’t be falling asleep. It’s pointless to say that, though, especially with how he holds you in his arms. He likes having you close like this, so he’ll stay here and enjoy your presence.

“Okay. 30 minutes.”

[whlfchn]

18+ rating! minors do not interact!

wc: 1.1k genre: fluff, smut, drabble warnings: groping, dry humping, some praising, profanity, some dirty talk, fingering, stroking, penetration

[ 3:41 ] All that could be heard in the cold, almost empty apartment was the sound of rustling. Waking you from your deep slumber. Blinking your eyes open in search of your phone to check the time.

It was 3:41am. Hearing the sounds of shuffling prompts you to lazily lift yourself off the soft warm bed. Yawns leaving your mouth as your hands start rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up even further.

Footsteps approaching the bedroom and stopping at the door frame. Chan's body casting a soft shadow in the already dark room.

“Did I wake you? I'm so sorry baby,” he says. Even in the dark you can see exhaustion evident on his face. The bags under his eyes were growing darker by the day. His messy curls going in all sorts of directions. His voice laced with fatigue.

He makes his way over to you and grabs your cheeks, squishing them. Your lips pout making him giggle and show those beautiful dimples of his. He kisses your forehead.

“It's okay. I don't mind. I missed you”

He smiles and gives you a kiss on the lips, before bringing himself to the other side of the bed laying down and making grabby hands for you to join him. How could you resist?

You oblige and lay down next to him latching on. Your head on his shoulder, your arm on his chest, and your leg propped up on his body. His arm wrapped around your side, his other hand on your thigh rubbing small little circles soothing your soft skin. Wearing nothing but your panties and a large t-shirt of his that reached the center of your thighs. You hum in bliss having missed his touch.

It wasn't unusual for Chan to stay late at the studio, but it didn't make it any easier having to fall asleep all alone. So it made these moments precious when you could finally see him relax, feel each other's touch, and just be in one another's presence.

“Did you just get home?”

“Not exactly. I got home a little while ago and showered. Now I'm here, with you” he says smiling, hands caressing your body as you look up at him running your hand through his hair giving him a little massage and slightly tugging on the pretty curls that adorned his face.

He hums and smiles, finally looking over at you. Faces only inches away. The warmth he's giving dazes you as all your worries in life simply disperse. No amount of words could capture the joy you felt with him. 

You were his special place that he held deeply in his heart. You made him feel blessed and gave him a new purpose of life.

His hand goes farther up your thigh and under your shirt. Drawing circles and kneading the soft supple flesh. Lighting your cold skin on fire. Your hand slowly caresses his chest and plays with the hem of his shirt. His eyes are suddenly full of want. Looking like he could devour you with just his look alone.

Biting his bottom lip as he brings his face closer to yours chasing your lips. His lips warm and soft against your own. Lips parting slightly which allows him to slip his tongue inside. Slipping yours in his right after and rolling them over each other. Bodies pressed together. Warming each other up, breathing heavily as your lips stay connected as one. 

“Need you,” he says, voice raspy as he pushes your leg off him and hovers over your frame. Pinning you underneath his warm body.

“Show me how much you need me,” you breathe, running your hands through his hair and wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer to your body leaving no space in between.

Grabbing your hands on either side of your head not breaking the kiss as he starts to grind his clothed hard length against your now wet core.

Moans leave both of your lips as the friction increases making you want more. Unlinking your hand from his and pushing him off you so you can get on top and straddle him. Linking your lips once again.

Rocking your hips against him. Your wet clothed core seeping into his pants that felt snugger by the second.

His hands making their way under your shirt massaging the now hardened nipples. Moaning into the kiss as his hands trail down and tug on the end of your shirt. Breaking the kiss as you take off the shirt, tossing it aside and going for his own. Propping himself on his elbows as he quickly takes his shirt off. Pushing him down and linking your lips on his once again. Body growing hotter and needing more you attempt to lift yourself off so you can take off your panties when he suddenly stops you. Holding you by the waist with one hand and the other on your face tracing your lips.

“No need. This is fine, Just lift your hips when I tell you too baby.” he says in between kisses.

Lifting his hips as he pulls his pants down freeing his hard, thick, and glistening length. Lips savoring each other's taste as you stroke his length. Hands soon grab your waist, slightly lifting you up. You let go of his length as he takes his fingers and strokes your wet clothed core. Teasing you then pushing the fabric to the side and parting your folds playing with your juices. Teasing your entrance with his fingers. Slowly entering two fingers. Bringing your head to his shoulder and rocking your hips going with the soft rhythm. Fingers slowly pumping in and out of you, curving at just the right angle before slipping a third finger in. Moans leaving your lips like music to his ears.

“Fuck baby. So wet and tight. All mine.”

Lips linking once again as he takes his fingers out causing you to shudder at the lost feeling of being filled. 

“Ready babygirl?,” he whispers, bringing his forehead to yours waiting for your response. You nod and give his lips a peck. Holding your panties to the side as you slowly sink down onto his cock. Hands on your ass, head thrown backwards, as he moans your name as you adjust to his size, slightly squeezing on him which drives him mad and swears he could cum right there and then.

“I love you Channie,”

“I love you too baby,” 

He can't help but think how lucky and content he is to have you in his life. How you're his and he's yours. That you're his other half that he will never let go or take for granted. 

You start rolling your hips. Losing yourself, getting light headed in this moment of love and lust. The passion burning like a raging fire where only he could light you up. Feeling unstoppable.

disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the names are used for purely fictional purposes!

please reblog and leave a like! feedback is greatly appreciated and it motivates me to write more! I read it all and am so thankful for each of you!

~ masterlist ~

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 003 ] rock paper scissors.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. none, it's a cute chapter. word count. 2.3k

　　　　　　　　chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv

Surprisingly, you and Wooyoung agreed on most things when it came to compiling plausible ideas for the project. You worked together for an hour before he told you he had to go somewhere with Seonghwa and one of the guys you hadn’t met yet—Yunho?—in half an hour, to which you nodded as you continued writing down some notes.

Seonghwa joined the two of you at some point, coming down the stairs with his laptop so he could work alongside you, muttering something along the lines of “Hongjoong is working on something and I can’t concentrate” as he sighed. Though it didn’t take very long for him to retreat back to his room with a yawn having finished whatever paper her had to write.

Over the hour that you and Wooyoung worked together, he had scooted himself closer and closer to you until your knees were brushing against each other (but you didn’t mind, all this talking had made you reasonably more comfortable around him). At times he got up to demonstrate some poses he thought would look nice as you drew rough, blocky sketches of said poses. You showed him some of your own sketches, letting him choose what kind of style would fit.

At this proximity, it was very hard for Wooyoung to concentrate for longer periods of time. The perfume you wore had a divine smell that he couldn’t quite place, but if he had to he’d describe it as vanilla, a hint of something sweeter folded between. Every time he got a whiff of it, he had to stop himself from chasing the sweet smell. He also didn’t miss the way the beating of your heart sped up very slightly as he leaned over you to grab the pencil by your side, a fact that brought a smug smile to his face.

Since the final event for this project would be an exhibition in the gym, you both thought it would make sense to either do one big artwork or multiple smaller artworks to fill out the space dedicated to you. This was one of the things you couldn’t agree on.

“But wouldn’t it be so cool if you could do, like, a few sculptures and a few paintings of me?” He pouted.

“Wooyoung,” you pinched your nose bridge, “did you forget that I would have to be the one to actually make everything?”

“Well, no. But since we have like, 3 months to work on this I thought that would be more than enough time.”

“I have more—and better—things to do than paint and sculpt you.” You reasoned. “As the person that will be working endlessly on the actual artwork, I’d much prefer to do one big, impressive painting.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes before staring you dead in your eyes. “Are you sure?”

There was a change in his voice so subtle you wouldn’t be able to place it. Even his voice seemed sharper and it sent a chill down your spine. He squinted at you as you hesitated to answer and suddenly seemed so much closer than he actually was.

You blinked and looked away from him, and he was pleased to see the tips of your ears dusted a rosy shade. “Yes, I’m completely sure I’d rather do one larger painting.”

And that is how you and Wooyoung found yourselves in what may be the most intense game of Rock Paper Scissors. He decided the first to three points would get to choose, and it didn’t take long for the two of you to reach two points. After that, you kept tying and at some point, you both stood up, dramatically turning around every time you had to show your weapon. But you continued choosing the same things and each time he’d throw himself on the couch, yelling before standing back up.

After a few more rounds, you finally got a winner.

Up in the bedroom he shared with Wooyoung, Yeosang could not fall asleep. Out of all eight of the men that lived in this house, he had the most sensitive hearing. So when his best friend’s car pulled up to his house and he first heard that familiar voice accusing them of being part of the mafia, one could only imagine the surprise he felt. The two of you had run into each other a few times and eventually, he noticed he was looking for you when he went to certain places.

The first was at a café he worked at five days a week. Of course, he didn’t really need the money, but he enjoyed the atmosphere. Dim lighting, music playing softly so as to not disturb the customers, potted plants anywhere you looked. On one of the days he was working, you came in with who he assumed was your friend, talking animatedly to the girl next to you.

He didn’t notice you until you came up to the counter to order, immediately endeared by your polite smile. Your friend was seated on one of the tables by the window that looked out onto the street. He took your order: One americano, one iced latte with triple sugar, and two eclairs. 

“Name?”

You gave him your name and a small smile made its way to his face as he scribbled your name on the cups. You paid and with a nod, he asked you to wait by the pick-up counter. You watched him idly, rocking on your heels as you waited. The song caught your attention and you tried to memorise at least one phrase so you could find it later.

It didn’t take too long for both of the drinks to be made and he quickly fsíshed two eclairs out and carefully placed them into a white paper bag before handing everything to you, catching you as you took a sip of the iced latte and added in one more sugar packet. Before you left, you stopped him from turning around, a gentle ‘Excuse me?’ leaving your plump limps

“Yeah?”

“This song is nice, what’s it called?”

“Oh! Uh,” he pretended to think for a bit, but really this was his playlist and he knew every single song from the top of his head. “it’s Reflections by The Neighbourhood”

“Thank you,” your eyes flickered to the small name tag clipped to his apron. “Yeosang.”

The second time he saw you was in a quaint little bookshop. It was pretty much across the street from his café, so Jongho texted him to see if he could go a get a book for him when his shift was over. Of course, Yeosang wouldn’t decline his request so, true to his word, as soon as his shift was over at 7:30 in the afternoon, he made his way to the bookshop.

As the door opened, the kindle of a small bell signalled the arrival of a new customer. You were seated at the cashier, leaning your head on one of your hands while the other held your favourite mechanical pencil, drawing small sketches in your worn sketchbook, nodding your head to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. He recognised you immediately but decided to focus on finding the book Jongho needed.

With his phone in his hand, he looked between the title Jongho had sent him and the books on each and every bookshelf. Yet, he couldn’t find it. Deciding he should just ask you, he mustered up the courage and made his way to the front of the store, hesitating before calling out to you.

“Excuse me, um… Y/N?”

You were startled, but looked up at him and as recognition flashed through your eyes, smiled and took off your headphones. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was longer and he dyed it blond, but you still recognised him. You tried not to get distracted by how well this new look suited him. “Ah, Yeosang, right? How can I help you?”

He explained his situation and gave you the name of the book when you asked. You hummed and told him to follow you, walking to a section he swore he already looked in, missing the way he looked positively delighted by the fact you remembered his name. After you told him you wouldn’t be able to reach it, you told him exactly where the book should be and, lo and behold, there it was.

The next times he saw you (yes, multiple times), was somewhere he frequented almost as often as his workplace; the skatepark. You usually showed up with three of your friends and watched them skate around as you sat at a picnic bench. One time, in particular, he remembered you showing up in an outfit that nearly drove him insane. 

It was different from what he usually saw you wearing, oversized and cosy, covering up nearly all your skin. But this time, while you wore an oversized knitted white sweater, you also decided to wear and black miniskirt. Thigh-high black socks hugged your legs and fitted especially snugly around your thick thighs. If he denied the fact that he thought of about a hundred different inappropriate things in the span of a second, he’d be the biggest liar to have walked the earth.

You sat at your usual spot, watching with a fond smile as your friends bickered and skated around, that usual sketchbook opened in front of you as you drew. After twenty long minutes of skating to get his mind off you (and failing), Yeosang decided to take a seat next to you.

“You draw a lot.” He nearly smacked himself for not coming up with something better to say. But luckily, you seemed amused, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m an art major, I kinda have to.”

And from there you conversed for another hour about whatever came to mind until your friends called you over so you could go grab dinner together. You offered Yeosang to join you, but the biology major needed to get home since he had early classes the next day.

He sighed once more, throwing the blanket off him as he got up and pulled a random sweater over his head.

“No!” You practically cried out and fell to the ground in defeat, Wooyoung cheered and jumped around the living room in utter glee. “I want a rematch!”

“In your dreams!”

“What’s going on?” A deep voice interrupted Wooyoung’s cheering (and your mourning). His eyes found yours very quickly, offering you a smile. “Oh, hey.”

“Hello!” You got up from the floor and gave him a small bow, brushing the fabric of your sweatpants despite them not being dirty.

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed as he looked between you and the blond in confusion. “You know each other?”

After explaining how you two knew each other, you had to leave. Wooyoung had to go wherever it was he need to go soon and you were getting pretty tired. After wishing them a good night and exchanging numbers with Wooyoung, you stepped out of the house, bag hanging from your shoulder as you made your way to the front gate.

That’s when you realised you didn’t have a way of getting home and didn’t know where the nearest bus stop was either. Shortly after you stepped out, both Wooyoung and Yeosang came to the same conclusion. So, while Wooyoung had to go wake up Seonghwa and get Yunho, Yeosang rushed out of the house and took his car.

“Need a ride?” He pulled up next to you, his usual smile making the apples of his cheeks look extra squishy.

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding and getting in the passenger’s seat.

The drive to the apartment complex you lived at took nearly half an hour. For the first ten minutes of the ride, you and Yeosang caught up and whatever had happened between the last time you’d seen each other and now. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but it was quite obvious you already developed a small liking for the man next to you.

After those first ten minutes, you fell asleep with your head leaning against the window on your side. Yeosang could tell how tired you were and didn’t blame you at all. Spending so much time with Wooyoung can either be energising or exhausting, there was no in-between. So, he let you rest, head turning to make sure you were alright every now and then.

The steady beating of your heart grounded him, calming his senses and he was sure that as soon as he got back home, he’d be able to sleep without any difficulty.

As soon as you stepped through your front door, your housemate greeted you from the couch. “Hey, where were you?”

“I had to work on a new art project with a partner,” You yawned, making your way to the kitchen and grabbing a cup of water.

“Oh, how exciting,” Sangmi laughed, knowing you preferred working on your own. “Who’s your partner?”

Swallowing the big gulp of water you took, you answered, “Jung Wooyoung.”

Her deep brown eyes practically bulged from her eye sockets. She immediately demanded every detail. Sangmi always had a sort of admiration for Wooyoung, but an admiration that was less like a crush and more akin to respect.

She was also a dance major and often told you about how hard he worked during dance practice, describing the way he moved like art in and of itself. You had yet to see what she meant, but her words still set a high standard.

After telling her everything, you excused yourself and got ready for bed, changing into comfortable shorts and a white tank top. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light with no hope of waking up any time soon.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] and so you have found out who she likes :> sorry this update was a bit late, i kinda forgot to finish writing. but here it is! i love blond yeosang so much it's actually insane.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww  @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @seongwin @yuyunhoo @kyukyustar @seongfury

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[yourantag]

Paper Stars (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Posting this along with my intro since I feel bad for anyone that gets jebaited thinking I was uploading lol This was originally going to be more painful, but then I listened to Laufey's "I Wish You Love" and it got kinda better, kinda worse. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words Summary: You filled bottles and jars with stars of all shapes and sizes. Some were perfect, others a little wonky. Regardless of how they came out, you placed them in containers that decorate your room. No matter how long you stay in this dreadful place, these stars will remain proof of your hopes, dreams, and love. They'll remain even after you are long gone.

Even before you entered the manor, you had a habit of making paper stars. Your friends, ones you've long forgotten the names of yet remember warmly, had claimed that if you filled a jar with a thousand paper stars, you'd be granted a wish. You've long grown out of such beliefs, or so you claim, but you still make these delicate stars anyway. They give you comfort, if nothing else. However, the biggest contributor to your growing collection of stars was Ithaqua.

It wasn't that he was making too many. In fact, his claws tore the thin paper far too often for most of them to survive. The true reason was that, as foolish as it was, you had started hoping beyond all hope that, perhaps, if you made a thousand jars of a thousand paper stars, you would have a chance to be loved back by him.

Since a long time ago, since he first came to the manor, you had loved him. Your first few jars of stars could tell all about it. You'd write confessions and compliments, snippets of stories, anything and everything, onto tiny slips of paper. These would later be turned into paper stars, filling jar after jar in a mesmerizing mix of colors. In shades of pink, white, and purple, the stars grew and grew as years passed and your love stayed true.

Of course, as time tends to do, it changes you. The luster of love dulled to let you see Ithaqua as himself, and even then, you loved him. The way he'd lean on you when he was tired, the way his face scrunched up when he yawned, even the way he'd purposely annoy you by putting your favorite snacks on the tallest shelves. You loved him for his faults, and you loved him for his virtues. No matter what you learned about him, he was still perfect in your eyes.

Well, perhaps perfect isn't the right word. You know Ithaqua isn't innocent, you know he isn't completely good. He's vengeful, he's cunning, he's someone with more spite in his body than good in his soul. He is a hunter, deadly as a blade and cold as night. He laughs when he chases and he kills without mercy.

Even so, when Ithaqua holds you gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he wraps your wounds, murmuring apologies like prayers, you can't see him as a monster.

He isn't perfect, but he is Ithaqua. That is enough for you.

More time slips by like sand through your fingers, decades going by with seemingly no end. Your stars are not pink, white, and purple anymore, but red, orange, and green. Your love has grown a startling amount, resulting in a growing pile of star filled bottles and jars. They clutter your closet floor, taking up almost all the space inside. You think you may have made around six hundred or so, most likely more. Even so, you know there will be more, this time filled with daydreams and flustered hopes.

Your relationship with Ithaqua is closer than ever. He is your other half, your shadow, always there and ready to talk. You know him better than anyone else, just as he knows you. At this point, the whole manor is convinced you're dating each other in every way but in name. You flush whenever they say so, quickly saying you two are only friends.

"For now." They say.

'For now.' You think.

With how many years have passed, you'd think you would've gained the courage to confess to Ithaqua. Sadly, the heart is as cowardly as it is powerful. Your chest feels like it'll burst whenever you try to confess, lungs begging for air even without restrictions. Every time you try, anxiety rips the words away from you, causing you to fumble like an idiot in front of him.

It might have been a blessing that the words never had a chance to form. 

Later, when you were coming to visit him on the hunter side, you heard him talking to someone. You weren't one to eavesdrop, respectful of others' privacy, but you couldn't help but listen when you heard your name come up.

"It's painfully obvious they love you. Why don't you just confess already?"

"I can't do that. Confessing to someone I can't love is not right."

At that moment, you felt your heart shatter.

That day, you stayed in your room. You wanted to cry, scream, break something, do anything, but as always, you could only do nothing. You were curled up on your bed, incapable of doing much other than wonder why. Why can't he love you? Why won't he love you? Why, why, why, why, why?

You had gotten overconfident, you guessed. With how Ithaqua treated you so differently from the rest, so lovingly, you had assumed he'd felt the same as you did. At the very least, you had hoped he'd have some romantic interest in you. Was it presumptuous? Was it arrogant? Was it wrong for you to have hoped that he would love you back after all these years? Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, the truth lay bare before your eyes now, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

It took you a week to get out of your slump, leaving many worried. You couldn't bother to care, trying to reassure everyone quickly that you were fine despite having been broken not long ago. You had picked up the fragments of who you were and built yourself anew. Fragile, yet stronger than ever. You could only be glad the manor had been kind enough not to give you any matches during this time.

Time marches on, unrelenting as the push and pull of the waves. Your stars turned blue, black, and yellow, filled with wishful thinking and occasional pleads. Nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles and jars gathered within your room, filling your closet, shelves, and even the bottom of your bed. Even though you knew it was useless, that your love was unrequited and that Ithaqua would never love you, the heart is a cruel, stubborn little thing.

Your heart never gave up on Ithaqua, even though your mind had long acknowledged he'd never be yours.

You were fine with that. Ithaqua had no obligation to you, and it was wrong of you to believe he would love you. It was completely fine for you to love him, but it wasn't okay for you to expect him to love you in the same way. Such thoughts would only hurt you when hit with reality. You'd suffered through it once, you didn't need to do so again.

You continued being friends with him, acting completely normal. Nothing changed, but that was fine with you. Keeping what you had now was more than enough. You kept trying to convince yourself that was true, but it felt like thorns were wrapping around your heart, flowers blooming painfully between your ribs.

"You love him!" Your heart cries.

"But he doesn't love me." You whisper back.

Distance would be the only way to heal you, and the best opportunity for it drops right onto your desk. A letter, stamped and sealed just like the one that invited you to the manor. It tells you that you may leave, that your reward for participating in the game would be given and that you were free.

You rush out of your room to find your fellow survivors cheering, crying, hugging, and laughing. After so many years stuck in the manor, you were finally able to leave. You were finally getting your rewards. 

It felt like a dream.

Happy beyond all reason, you run to the hunter's manor, finding that no celebrations were occurring. It quickly dawns on you that most of these people will not leave- couldn't. Most were dead, others were immortal, while some were people who simply couldn't be returned to society. Regardless, it seemed most of the hunters would never leave the manor, or would quietly fade away into the afterlife.

Ithaqua notices you from his corner of the room. He beckons you closer, so you walk towards him. Sitting yourself comfortably next to him, you explain the situation. He listens, humming occasionally as you show him the letter. Finally, he smiles.

"I'm happy for you."

It's simple, but sweet. You know he means it, but you kind of wish he didn't. After all, this had been your last hope, the last chance for him to show that he felt anything for you. 

You set yourself up for disappointment once more, hoping for love that he would never give.

So, you smile, nod, and say you'll be packing your things. You ignore the tears that blur your vision, the looks of pity Mary and Joseph give you, running away with a smile on your face as if truly excited to leave.

You had hoped he'd ask you to stay.

You had hoped he'd at least say that you were important to him, even as just a friend.

Perhaps even that was too much to expect.

Your love is like the moon, brilliant, beautiful, and powerful. However, in the face of almost complete apathy, of the unending night that shrouds you, what could you do?

Luggage isn't too much of an issue for you, especially considering you never brought much to the manor and never bought much either. The only things left were your paper stars.

You held the last jar, the thousandth one. You had finally completed your goal. However, there was no wish you could think of for yourself. You gained your freedom, your reward from the manor, and now, gave up completely on Ithaqua. There was nothing you desired.

Turning to face your closet, your grip on the jar tightens. You see the thousands, millions of stars staring back at you, a galaxy of color, filled with so much love and joy. It's almost painful to see it all, the proof of your existence within this manor, the proof of your love, shoved in a closet and never to be seen again.

You turn to your desk, glancing at the other jars that decorate it. You can see the imperfections on some of the stars, one crinkled far too much, another far too big. You remember all the time and effort that went into them, the words you had written, the feelings that went through you as you made them. It washes over you like a wave, and you let it.

Then, finally, you smile.

"I wish him love."

He deserves it. He deserves to be loved selflessly, in a way you probably couldn't offer him. He deserves to be held when it's cold, tenderly cared for when sick, shared jokes with sincerity, and above all else, happy.

So, carrying your luggage bag and a smile, you meet Ithaqua at the hunters manor. You place the jar of paper stars in his hands, eyes full of adoration as you let him go in your heart.

"Farewell, Ithaqua. I'm glad to have met you. Thank you for letting me get to know you and love you. I will never forget you."

You squeeze his hands around the jar, the pain in your chest bittersweet. You let go, pulling back and waving as you leave. He watches for a long time, even after you've long left.

Eventually, he lets his legs give out from under him. He lets his heart ache as he opens the jar to let the stars fall into his hands. Ithaqua cradles them like they're the most precious things in the world, an irreplaceable treasure that was worth more than his life.

He lets his shoulders shake, curling in on himself as he sobs. Tears fall from his eyes as his heart rips itself apart, only getting worse as he sees writing on a star. He unravels it slowly, carefully, as if it'll tear with even the slightest bit of pressure. His efforts are for naught, as in the end, his tears wet the paper and destroy the writing, ink smudging as his efforts to return it to normal shred the thin paper. Still, he remembers vividly the words written on it. He'll feel it forever seared into his heart and soul.

[femme4ngel]

could you write fluff about dad kylian?

Maybe he has a newborn baby or two daughters

kylian has such girldad vibes i can’t explain..:( i wrote headcanons and a little story too! i have some problems with the grammar bc english isn’t my first language:/

( you have two daughters, twins!)

- when you find out your pregnant he says he just wants the baby to be healthy, and that he doesn’t have a gendered preference.. but cmon he is dying for a baby girl.

- and then you give birth to TWO girls. his heart just can’t take it.

- he takes your daughters everywhere with him. i’m talking absolutely everywhere. to interviews, to games, to red carpet events, to award shows. he’s holding their hands 24/7 and when they start getting tired he takes them into his arms, or lets them hop on his back.

- in every single interview he finds a way to start talking about them! ..: “ oh and my daughter actually learned how to walk this week!”

- shows everyone around him videos of you and your daughters. its cute in the beginning but then after some time everyone gets bored of him. he doesn’t care tho and just chases his teammates around with his phone in his hands, pointing at the video he took of his daughters.

- hes an amazing father. im talking exceptional. hes kind, and somewhat strict but in a completely normal way. he never ever raises his voice, he never scares your daughters.

- his social media is just you and your daughters. he’s posting about his daughters 24/7.

- he scores all his goals for his daughters, pointing up to them on the stands as his celebration.

———-💌

its been a tiring long day, you had to take care of your daughters and yourself, as well as keeping the house clean. such simple tasks as showering, doing the laundry have become more difficult, the tiredness just completely taking over your body. it was now 9am and kylian still hasn’t gotten back from training. you were laying on the couch, cuddling with your daughters and cats, reading them a nighttime story. your daughters snuggled close to you, dozing off to sleep, yawning and blinking slowly up at you. they were so close to falling asleep ( finally! you thought to yourself… you spent the whole day running around and playing, it was just the time for some rest) when you heard the car park into the driveway and kylians keys turning in the lock. your daughters jumped off the couch the minute they heard him enter the house, running into his arms in the hallway. you get up and walk towards them, amazed by your beautiful family. kylian is holding his kids close to him, squeezing and hugging them with his eyes closed.

“ - okay babies lets give papa some space..” - you tell them, hugging and kissing kylian. he hugs you tightly,while whispering into your ears.

“ i missed you so much”..- he mutters.

you give him another kiss on the cheek, and grab your daughters hands. you reheat the dinner you made kylian, and when you turn to give him the plate him and your children are already sitting in their chairs at the kitchen table. you smile and give him the food ( knowing he will only eat half of it, sharing the other half with his daughters..) he starts eating his food, or at least tries eating it because your daughters are non stop asking him questions. they want to know everything about his day, how the training went, how many goals he scored, how many fouls were at the training, who did good today on the team and who played badly.. he answers every question with a huge cheeky grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. he loves football so much and hes so happy that his daughters are interested in it too. you love seeing them like this, your daughters looking up at their dad with stars in their eyes and huge smiles on their faces, so lost in their own little world.

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted Angst

Y'all want angst? Here's a sneak peek/rough draft at a future chapter featuring some. Keep in mind some of the dialogue or descriptions might get altered later or even new stuff added. So this is just because I'm nearly halfway through Chapter 6 and I want to put something extra out (AND BECAUSE I'M SO EXCITED TO GET TO THESE BIG MOMENTS, ITS TAKING SO LONG.)

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The teens finally made it out of the sight of the guards. They gave them a good chase, but they're no match for a star.

When they got to Bazeema's secret hideaway, they decided to rethink their strategy. Star let Dahlia help Flazino down and onto somewhere where he could rest.

"What did I tell you all? I told you those two were evil! They're pure nutcases!" Gabo exclaimed as he folded his arms in satisfaction.

"Yeah, yeah. You were right, no need to rub it in..." Simon replied as he yawned. He then went to find a place he could easily doze off for a minute.

Star returned to his human looking form, but his glow wasn't as bright as usual. Asha noticed Star wasn't flying about all care free like he normally does. In fact he looked like he didn't want to fly at all.

"Hey, Star. Are you all right?" Asha placed a hand on his shoulder. His mind seemed to be lost somewhere else.

"Yeah...I'm fine." The star replied, but his voice wasn't cheerful as usual, and she could see his smile was gone.

"Hey, isn't this a good thing? Where's that smile of yours?" Asha reassured him with her own smile. "We're so close to saving everyone! We got Flazino back and we can come up with a way to free those wishes. You said it yourself, you can take on Magnifico!"

Star's mind went back to when Magnifico nearly trapped Star in his staff. He could still feel the green chains wrapped around his wrists, from when he was being pulled in.

"Don't worry, its nice and roomy so it'll be like you're back in space! It'll feel like home!" the king told him in his crazed state.

That wasn't home, that was a nightmare. He couldn't go back to up there. He won't go back to being alone. NEVER AGAIN.

"Asha.... I don't think I can beat him." Star admitted to her.

Asha's eyes widened. "What? Star, you never talk like that. What happened to 'I can do just about anything'? We've come too far now!"

Gabo cut in: "Oh please don't tell me that the one thing that can beat the king is quitting on us now!"

Star backed away from Asha. "Look, I just need to think, all right?" Looking annoyed, he walked, not flew, past Asha and others and made his way outside towards the forest.

Asha couldn't believe it, but she could feel it: For the first time, Star was scared....

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Don't worry, he'll be back to his normal self soon, and it'll be thanks to Asha. I really am working on the idea that they really do help each other. When one's down, the other always helps them up! Just a small dose of WG since I'm still working on extra content when I can, including those extra redesigns! Also, since WG is a more comedic centric take like Hercules and other older Disney films, I want scenes that are more serious to hit harder. Hope I'm developing it right though, lol.

@oh-shtars, @uva124, Are you proud? Did I write the angst right? *tail starts wagging* 😂

@ishadow246 @tumblingdownthefoxden @annymation @chillwildwave

@snackara @your-ne1ghbor @gracebeth3604 @signed-sapphire

[miaountainmama]

heaven

characters: chuuya, gn!reader contains: endless yearning

wc: 1360

a/n: yes this is based off of the new mitski song

He was never much of a coffee drinker.

Today was different, apparently. He needed the caffeine, he said, and you wasted no time in brewing him a cup using the sparsely used machine in the corner of the kitchen, yawning in the early morning darkness. He insisted that he could do it himself, but he did enough for you. You could, at the very least, help him in small ways.

He entered the kitchen just as you were pouring it out for him. The dark liquid flowed from pot to cup like the low curses that flowed from his mouth, cursing Mori for bringing him in so early, cursing Mori for making him leave you.

Now, in the emptiness of your shared flat, you pick up the still half-full cup, long abandoned, and swirl the dark liquid around. It’s still warm, barely, and you take a sip, chasing after any residual taste of him.

The cup clinks quietly as you bring it to the sink and place it on the counter, not quite washing it yet— a reminder that he had been there. And you did as you always did when this happened, when he left you early, before your own work took you, while his presence still lingered like the bitter coffee on your tongue: you curl around the empty space in the bed, the sheets still mussed, bending around his shape as if he was still really there.

The day came and went, the imprint of him ever clear in your mind, and as you came home from work, the thought of him adjusted into such stark focus that it was almost painful. He had told you that with him, you would never have to work a day in your life, but you refused, wanting at least some semblance of independence. You knew it was well within his means, but still, you insisted. Once again: help in small ways. 

You hurriedly dig through your bag for your keys as you approach the door, eager to see him, but as you kick off your shoes in the hallway, you are struck with the sound of nothing, the sight of darkness. Nothing but the rain on the windows and the occasional flash of lightning.

Of course, you thought bitterly. Mori was a slave driver.

Putting your stuff on the counter, you pour yourself a drink, using the cup from the morning. If you couldn’t have him physically, you could at least pretend.

The cushions of the couch dip down as you climb onto them, flicking on the low, warm light of the lamp beside it, and settle in for what would probably be a long night of waiting, nothing but your book to keep you company. You wouldn’t lie to yourself and say it wasn’t a lonely life, this routine. But you would endure it. If not for yourself, then for him. 

You’re nearly falling asleep by the time the lock clicks, the sound of raindrops lulling you to slumber. Immediately, you awaken, a rush of energy surging through you, and you hastily put aside your drink and bookmark your page, throwing the book on the coffee table haphazardly.

Chuuya has barely any time to put his hat aside before he’s in your arms, chuckling lightly as you meet him in the doorway.

“Hey,” you murmur, smiling slightly, and he moves his head to press a kiss to your neck, swaying with you gently.

“Hey,” he returns, and you separate from him reluctantly, allowing him time to get situated and step into your flat. You catch his gaze lingering on you as you finally move to wash the cup from the morning— he leans against the counter, watching. You turn to him questioningly, smile still on your lips. 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he says, voice unusually soft, and you tilt your head as you put the cup in the dishwasher.

“Of course I am. Why? Did something happen?” you question. At this, your boyfriend sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“There’s something that’s been causing a lot of trouble at night for us. Haven’t found them yet,” he says, intentionally leaving his words vague, and you know better than to question it. Sometimes knowing is more dangerous than ignorance. You smile lightly at him.

“Then I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

His eyes soften, his expression so loving it’s almost criminal, and your heart skips a beat. He steps forward, taking you in his arms, and you giggle as he presses kisses on your cheeks and down the sides of your neck.

“Chuuya, what’s gotten into you?” You laugh, and though there’s a slight smile on his face, his eyes look unusually serious. He presses another kiss to your collarbone.

“Just… let me be selfish for now. I need you.” He murmurs into your skin, pushing you backwards so you’re sandwiched between him and the kitchen counter. You squeak as your backside hits the cold stone, but you’re quickly silenced by a kiss to your lips. It’s desperate, desperate and full of longing, and your stomach twists into knots as you return it, threading your hands through his beautiful orange hair. His hands find your hips, his breath heavy, and as you separate you barely have any time to gasp for air before his lips are on yours again. You’re taken aback by how urgent his movements are, and you find yourself becoming worried rather quickly. Something must have happened while he was gone.

“Chuuya,” you manage to say between kisses. “What’s wrong?”

Your boyfriend exhales loudly, pulling you closer, and he shakes his head, pulling back just enough so he can give your neck attention again. You angle your head so he can reach it better, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“You deserve better than this,” he breathes. “Waiting for me to come home night after night.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss to your jaw.

“It’s fine, Chuuya,” you say, intending to pacify him,  but his eyes quickly fill with desperation instead as you speak.

“You don’t understand,” he says, voice cracking, and it’s so full of emotion that it shuts you up immediately. “You need someone that can give you all of them.”

At this, you lean backwards, studying him. He moves to chase your neck, but you gently stop him. “Do you not do that already?” you question, and you try your best not to mention the silence that follows.

He’s quiet for a moment, and that’s all the answer you need.

You knew he could never give you all of him. Bound to the Mafia as he was, you knew that sometimes, you would have to be the second choice. You knew this. 

Even so, when it came down to the most important matters, you knew you would always be first.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment and listening to the rain on the windows, and when you open them, Chuuya is staring over your shoulder guiltily, unable to meet your eyes.

“It’s okay, Chuuya,” you begin, and he finally makes eye contact, giving you a disbelieving look. “I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating you. And I’m still here, and I will continue to be here. I love you, and you love me, and that’s enough for me.”

You reach out to cup his face, and he leans into your touch, still looking guilty. He gently grabs your wrist and kisses your palm.

“I don’t know what I did to get someone as good as you,” he confesses, and you smile, moving closer to him. He lets you, and you hold him tenderly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It lingers, both of you moving slowly, and as you pull away you look into his eyes.

“I love you, okay?” you reassure him, and finally, he smiles back.

“I love you, too. More than you could ever know.”

The morning would steal Chuuya away from you in time, but for now, for the night, it was just you two and the storm dancing outside. For the rest of the night, you had each other.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

I saw your call for soft prompts for the Batch bois! If you're up to it, I'd like to humbly submit:

"Thank you for getting me through this" and/or "I'm here for you. Today, tomorrow and every day after."

with Echo? I'm just so soft for that man, and he deserves all the softness.

Thank you so much for the request, lovely! I really enjoyed writing this - goodness, Echo deserves the entire galaxy 🥰

Hope it's okay! <3

Chasing Away the Nightmares

Although Echo is integrating into life with the Bad Batch, and is getting used to his new body, sometimes the nightmares come back to haunt him. Thankfully, you’re there to help him through them.

Pairing: Echo x f!reader (platonic, but squint and you could see it as the start of something romantic).

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Echo still has nightmares about the Citadel and Skako, a little whump, panic attack (Echo), lots of reassurance and comfort, softness, sharing a bunk.

The hum of hyperspace reverberated around the Marauder, the blue glow filling the cockpit as you chucked another card down onto the growing pile on top of Gonky, shifting to get more comfortable in Wrecker’s lap.

With only four seats in the cockpit, you’d had to pick a lap to perch on while you, Wrecker, Tech, Hunter, and Crosshair indulged in a few card games. It was one of the many ways you wound down together as a squad after a stressful mission.

Echo had excused himself, stifling a yawn as he retreated to the bunks shortly after you boarded the ship. Part of you had wanted to insist he join in, to continue building on the relationships you were all forming with him, but you knew he was still adapting to life with you and the boys.

He’d made so much progress already, rolling with the unconventional methods you all used and the chaos of life outside of a standard legion, but sometimes you could see the strain on his face. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through and everything he’d already been through. As the liaison between the Batch and Command, you’d asked for any help available for Echo but had frustratingly come up empty-handed.

“Kriff,” Wrecker muttered as he drew a fresh card, scowling at his hand. Although perched on his lap, you kept your gaze averted, not wanting to cheat. He tossed one of his other cards onto the pile.

As Hunter reached out to snag a card, he paused, head tilting towards the closed cockpit doors. It was an unspoken rule onboard that the cockpit doors were shut when it was occupied during hyperspace travel, giving those resting some peace.

“Again?” You asked quietly, brows furrowing as you tilted your head towards the doors, eyes darting towards Hunter.

He gave a slight nod, letting out a weary sigh. Echo had been battling nightmares for a while now, and Hunter’s keen senses had alerted him to each one. Every time he tried to approach the ARC Trooper, to encourage him to open up and share his troubles, his concerns were brushed aside.

“I got it. Keep playing.” You insist, sliding from Wrecker’s lap and tucking your cards into your pants pocket. You weren’t sure if Echo would open up to you, but it was worth a shot.

Moving across the cockpit, you slipped into the rest of the ship. It was much darker away from the hyperspace lights, and it took your eyes a second to adjust. Heading towards the bunks, you spotted Echo on a bottom one, lost in sleep though it appeared far from restful. He’d pulled the flimsy blanket up around him, hiding beneath it.

Gently, you touched his shoulder, attempting to wake him without startling him. “Echo.” You whispered concern in your voice.

Echo startled as his eyes opened, heart hammering in his chest at your unexpected presence. “W-What?”

You could see the tension in his features, the remnants of whatever haunted his dreams. “Nightmare again?” You asked softly, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. Echo hesitated, then nodded, not meeting your gaze. You decided to give him space, shifting further down the bunk. “You don’t have to go through it alone, you know. We’re a team, Echo.”

He sighed, finally looking at you with a smidge of uncertainty. Opening up wasn’t easy for him. “I appreciate it, but I can handle it.” He replied, though his eyes told a different story.

“You don’t always have to be the soldier, Echo. We’re more than just a squad; we’re a family.” You reassured him. “I might not be one of your brothers, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Echo hesitated, his gaze softening as he studied your face. The weight of his struggles lifted a little, if only for a moment. “Thanks.” He said quietly, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “It’s just...hard to get used to. Being alive and all that. Not…trapped in my mind anymore.”

You nodded understandingly. “We all have our battles, Echo. The difference is you don’t have to fight them alone.” Leaning back against the bunk, you let the ship's quiet envelop you both for a moment.

After a pause, Echo spoke again, his voice softer. “I never expected this. I still don’t feel like I fit in, but I guess none of you do either.” He gave a wry smile.

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Sometimes it’s more fun to be the odd ones out. You’re one of us now. We’ve got your back.” Not wanting to overstay your welcome and risk making things awkward, you stood, reaching down to gently squeeze his shoulder. He was still getting used to his new body and still recoiled at times from touch, but the grateful smile he shot you as your hand met his shoulder told you it was welcomed.

Touched by your words, Echo reached up to place his hand over yours, giving it a small squeeze. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Anytime. And if those nightmares ever get too much, don’t hesitate to come to me.” You reassure him, letting go of his shoulder as he nods.

Heading back to the cockpit, the door slid shut behind you, leaving Echo in the dimly lit bunks with a newfound warmth in his chest.

A few hours later, Echo’s breathing quickened as he was pulled from the depths of his dreams again, the weight of his nightmares clinging to him like a suffocating cloak. His eyes shot open, wide and panicked, scanning the dimly lit bunk area. The hum of the ship’s engines and the occasional creaks and groans seemed to amplify, closing in on him.

He sat up abruptly, the tangled sheets slipping from his body as cold sweat coated his skin. The memories of the nightmares still lingered, haunting him. His hand trembled, reaching up to press against his forehead, attempting to ground himself in the present.

Echo’s gaze darted around the room; the shadows seemed to twist and dance, distorting reality. The bunk felt confining, the walls closing in on him. The air in his lungs felt thin, and each breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Attempting to escape the suffocating grip of panic, Echo swung his legs over the side of the bunk, metal feet hitting the durasteel floor. The ship’s low lighting cast eerie shadows, and the rhythmic thud of his own heartbeat pulsed in his ears.

The memories of the war, the experiments, the pain—all of it rushed back, overwhelming him. The line between past and present blurred, and the present moment felt like an illusion. Echo’s chest tightened, his breaths becoming shallower. He tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts, but they clung to him like a relentless swarm. The world around him seemed to spin, the walls closing in further, trapping him in a claustrophobic nightmare.

The sound of your reassuring and caring voice resonated in his mind. Forcing himself to his feet, he took unsteady steps through the ship.

You were losing another round of cards when Hunter’s head snapped towards the cockpit door again. In a flash, you were up and off Crosshair’s lap – having migrated into the sniper's lap to give Wrecker a break – and were slipping out of the doors.

The sight that greeted you broke your heart. Sweet Echo, clutching at one of the jump seats, body trembling, desperately gasping for air. Instinct drove you forward, moving to support his weight and guide him into one of the seats. You’d dealt with plenty of panic attacks during your time with the boys – Hunter when his senses overwhelmed him, once when a flashbang had temporarily robbed Crosshair of his vision, and again with Wrecker after the accident that had left him scarred. You’d had a few yourself with the stunts your boys pulled.

Seeing you helped, and as Echo sat in one of the seats, he fought to regain control. Each breath was a struggle, but he found the longer he held your gaze the easier the vice around his chest became.

You crouched in front of him placing a steadying hand on his knee, not caring a jot that your palm met metal instead of flesh. “Hey, Echo. Keep your eyes on me.” You urged gently, your voice a soothing balm amid his turmoil. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, okay? You’re safe here.”

Echo’s eyes, still wide with panic, stayed locked on yours, and he clung to the lifeline you were offering. With each measured breath, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. The rhythmic hum of the ship became a grounding force, a reminder that he was here, in the present, surrounded by those who cared for him.

“Good, Echo. Just like that.” You encouraged, the reassuring smile you wore offering a comforting warmth. The panic began to recede, and Echo’s breathing gradually steadied. The haunted look in his eyes softened, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and gratitude.

“Thanks.” He whispered, voice hoarse from the strain. “I... I don’t know what happened. It just... everything got overwhelming.”

“It’s okay, Echo. Panic attacks happen.” You reassured him, squeezing his knee even though he wouldn’t feel it, and the metal didn’t yield beneath your hand. “Sometimes our minds play tricks on us, especially after everything you’ve been through.”

He nodded, still catching his breath. “I thought I was past this. I thought I could handle it.”

“Healing is a process. It isn’t linear.” You reminded him. “And you’re not expected to have it all figured out.”

Echo let out a shaky sigh, finally allowing himself to relax into the seat. The residue of panic began to lift, and embarrassment coloured his cheeks. “I appreciate it. I’m sorry for causing a scene.”

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you were coming to get me.” You assure him.

Echo nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The camaraderie of the squad was sinking in, slowly but surely. He wasn’t alone anymore; he wasn’t trapped in that stasis chamber lost in his mind.

“Come on.” You said, standing up. “Let’s grab a few more hours of rest.” You offered your hand to help him stand, deciding to stay with him for the remainder of the journey back to Kamino. The boys could continue their game in the cockpit without you.

Echo hesitates for a moment, then accepts your hand. Fingers interlocked with yours, you lead him back to the bunks. The ship’s hum seemed quieter now, more of a lullaby than a disorienting noise.

As you reach the bunks, Echo pauses, glancing at the bottom bed where he’d tried to find solace in sleep. “I don’t want to go back to the nightmares.” He admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nod, understanding his reluctance. “You don’t have to. How about you bunk with me for the rest of the trip? We can keep each other company. It might help.”

Echo hesitates. On one hand he knows your presence will significantly help him – and what man wouldn’t want to share a bunk with a pretty woman? – but on the other… “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” He murmurs, lifting his scomp and glancing down at his legs. “I’m not exactly the most…comfortable anymore.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, giving him a knowing smile. “Echo, you won’t hurt me. I’m not as delicate as I might look.”

A small smirk tugs at Echo’s lips as he glances at you, appreciating the humour in your words. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

With a gentle tug, you lead him to your bunk, the dim lighting creating a cosy atmosphere. The two of you settle in, finding a comfortable position. As Echo lies down, you scoot beside him, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“Thank you for getting me through this,” Echo says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours.

You hold his gaze, pleased he'd found a modicum of comfort with you. “I’m here for you. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.”

Gratitude and acceptance reflect in his eyes, and in the peacefulness of the bunk, you curl together. As sleep gradually claims you both, the nightmares seem to fade, replaced by the warmth of each other’s company.