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taifenggg · 1 year

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Lovestruck[Dateables]

Things the dateables do because they’re simps for you

CW: none

Characters: GN!Reader(no pronouns specified), Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon

Authors Notes: requests are open atm! dont be afraid to send something my way, just be sure to read the rules first!

[Brothers Here]

Diavolo [👐💗]

He always thinks about you and acts on impulse because of it

“Barbatos, I saw them eyeing a few things last time I went out with them. I've compiled a list so would you mind procuring everything that you can?" Barbatos nodded, "Yes my lord, but if I may, what's the occasion?" Despite saying this, Barbatos knew full well that there was no special occasion, but decided to humor Diavolo.

"Oh! Nothing in particular, I just felt like it," he chuckled softly, a faint flush on his face. Barbatos shook his head slightly, the edges of his lips threatening to curl upwards into a knowing smile. Diavolo started fiddling with his hands, staring at his phone anxiously. Everytime it would vibrate his head would shoot up and his hand would reach over, only for his head to droop slightly, seeing as how it wasn't a message from you.

"Young Master, seeing as how you can't seem to focus on your paperwork, perhaps it's best that we should continue this later? You seem rather antsy," Barbatos pressed a hand to the top of the stack of papers before Diavolo, a knowing smile on his face. Diavolo's face lit up realizing that Barbatos was releasing him to leave, to be able to see you. "Perhaps we should," he pushes back his seat standing up. "Barbatos, I'm going out for a bit, keep an eye on the castle while I'm away." And without another word, he bolts out of his office.

Barbatos chuckles softly watching him race off, neatly stacking the scattered paperwork into a pile.

Barbatos [⌛🖤]

He’s not afraid to show his most vulnerable sides to you

"Well this is a sight to behold."

Barbatos looks up from the kitchen counter, a soft smile on his face. You find you mouth hanging open slightly as you stare at him. Even while working in the kitchen, Barbatos seems refined as ever, sleeves neatly rolled up showing off his forearms, and an apron tied around his waist. You quickly avert your gaze, suddenly taking interest in the wall, feeling your face grow warm. Barbatos only smiles at you, gesturing for you to come closer. As you approach him, he holds a spoon in his hand, “Here, have a taste and tell me what you think.”

Tentatively taking the spoon from him, you lick it, your eyes lighting up. “This is great! Is this what you’re making?” You look down at what he’s created. “I took some inspiration from the human world and decided to try my hand at making...crème brulée? How is it?” He stares at you, eager to hear your feedback. “It’s perfect,” you grin, shooting him a thumbs up giving him your approval. Your smile soon turns into a slight frown, Barbatos gives you a puzzled glance, “Is something the matter?”

“Your eyes...Barbatos, have you been overworking yourself?” a hand reaches up to cup his face, rubbing his cheek. Barbatos stiffens slightly from your touch, unaccustomed to the feeling of someone touching him so....intimately. Usually, he would have smacked away the hand caressing at him, but instead his eyes soften, and his hand reaches up to hold yours in his. “I will be fine, please do not worry,” he laughs softly, feeling a warm sensation in his chest from your concern over him. You shook your head, pouting at him, “I should talk to Diavolo about lightening the amount of work you’ve taken on recently, he’ll understand.” You pull away from him and Barbatos finds himself craving the warmth of your hands once more. He reaches out to you, pulling you back close to him, “No, that’s quite alright, although, thank you for your concern.” You sigh softly, turning around, “Then you have to promise me that you’ll get some rest. Please?” you give him the best puppy dog eyes that you can muster, and Barbatos’ resolve wavers.

“Very well, but at the very least, allow me to put the dessert into the fridge before it spoils.”

Solomon [🪄🤍]

He’s always looking out for you and your well-being

“Careful MC, watch your step, the footing here is uneven,” Solomon holds a hand out to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s not that bad,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, but despite what you said you still took his hand holding it in yours. His hands, seem to mold into yours, his fingers wrapping around yours. “Got you,” he chuckled softly, “Now I’m never going to let you go.” You push him lightly, laughing softly as you squeeze his hand in yours. Solomon’s grip on you is firm, and provides you with a sense of comfort as the two of you stroll through the bustling streets of the Devildom. You stare at all of the shops, a grin on your face as you pull Solomon along, pointing out the things that you find of interest.

Suddenly Solomon tugs you to the side and out of the way of a few demons, racing through the streets. He shields you with his body holding you close. Once they pass by, he looks stares at you affection in his gaze, “Are you alright? They pushed by pretty quickly.” His voice is soft as he continues staring at you. “I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting you to do that,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. "Well there's more where that came from," he smiled, teasing you lightly, leaning in. You laugh softly, pushing him gently. Solomon only laughs, pulling away from you but not before, intertwining his fingers in with yours.

"Stay close to me alright? No harm should befall you as long as you stick by my side."

Simeon [🥞🩵]

He’s always there to lend a shoulder to you

"MC? What’s the matter?” a frown mars his pretty face as he leans over you, concern in his gaze. You turn to look at him from your position on the railing overlooking the vast expanse of the Devildom. You sniffled, wiping your face, trying to make yourself appear more presentable, “Ah Simeon! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come up, I just wanted some fresh air.” Simeon approaches you, worry still written all over his face. His hand reaches up to cup your face which causes you to stiffen from his touch.

“Have you been crying?” he murmurs, his brow creasing as he stared at you. “Huh? I....” you tear your face away from his hand, staring at the floor finding it difficult to hold his gaze. “No I just...like I said, I wanted fresh air,” you let out a shuddering gasp to try and recollect yourself. “MC...look at me,” Simeon lifts your face, fingers gently holding onto your chin. “You can talk to me alright?” To see you on the verge of tears like this, Simeon felt his heart ache, wondering how he could resolve this and console you.

Your breathing quickened as you stared at him feeling your body shake and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your arms found their way around his torso, clinging to him, your face buried into the crook of his neck for comfort. He emanates warmth, hands gently caressing your back, holding onto you. “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere,” his voice murmurs from above you, and you can feel the steady rising and falling of his body.

You continue holding onto him, until you feel that you’re ready to speak. You pull your face away from him, biting your lip. “Sorry...I’m just....I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately so I just wanted some time to myself, and then I couldn’t help myself, I guess I just started crying.” You grimace slightly, turning away from him. “MC...it’s okay to feel these things, there’s nothing to be ashamed about, I mean we can’t always control out emotions and that’s alright.” You feel yourself on the verge of tearing up once more but you force it back, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just suddenly spring this on you.”

Simeon smiles softly, his hands squeezing your sides comfortingly. “My dear MC, there’s nothing you need to apologize for alright? You’re already doing great, and I will ensure that I will always be by your side to give you encouragement should you need it.”

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astralis-ortus · 4 months

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you are my sunshine

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— you'll never know, dear, how much i love you.

w.count → 0.6k genre → slice of life, fluff warning → just watching chan (chris) being a parent :> a.n → something light because brain.exe couldn't handle words atm :> also, would you believe me if i said the actual idea behind this was this specific tiktok... lolㅠ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you were always sure you didn’t want to have any kids. you have your reasons, but ultimately, you’re scared you couldn’t be the kind of parents you wanted to be and you don’t want another soul to have to bear those sort of consequences after your inability to be one. you should be the one carrying them, even if it meant people will judge you for it.

being together with chris, however, had changed your mind.

no, not because he coaxed you into wanting one or anything like that—you knew he wanted to have kids, but he wasn’t even bothered when you told him about the matter when the topic of marriage came up. but then, whenever you see him doing even the most mundane of things... you just knew you’d be just fine raising a child together with him.

chris would be very hands on as soon as your baby arrives. he knows the best temperature for the baby formula, he knows how to wash and sterilize the baby bottle, he knows how to change your baby’s diaper—heavens, sometimes you even wondered if chris was a walking encyclopedia for any baby related matters.

chris would also be the one taking care of your baby throughout the night. ‘i’m already up anyway, you deserve the night’s sleep’ he reasoned, and being a man of his words, you would actually sleep through the night as chris would go as far as setting a bassinet in his home studio to make sure he’d be able to keep an eye on your baby while he works.

as your child grew up, chris would make sure to attend as many of the parents-teacher meeting as he possibly could. he knew the nature of his work would cause him to be away for quite a period of time when he had to, but he when he could, he would even collude with your kid to ask you to let their dad be the one to take part for the next meeting. he just loved to be present when he could, and you could see it through the way he laugh with your kid.

your child’s puberty hits chris the hardest—your kid did not grow distant in any kind, they still look for their parents a lot, but for chris who used to be attached to your kid like a stamp on an envelope, letting your kid learn how to slowly become their own person felt like he’s slowly losing the little sunshine who used to only look for him. chris knew it’s going to happen eventually, but for the time being, he’ll keep himself busy with the tons of pictures and videos he took when his baby was younger.

another big wave of blue hits when chris had to send off your now young adult child to college. chris wouldn’t let you nor your child see, but you know the tears his studio had seen after you two had gone home from the airport, mere hours after your child flew thousands of miles away to chase after their dreams. despite the amount of calls and texts your family groupchat exchanged, it wasn’t the same without your child being home.

lastly, chris would finally let his tears be known when he had to let his little sunshine start off their own little family. the realization that the little baby who once fits in his arms is now ready to become a parent themselves were proven a little too overwhelming for chris—but everyone understood. everyone saw the mountain that is chris’ love for his child, and they understood.

not to worry, though—because now whenever your child visits with their own little bean,

chris had found himself another sunshine to take care of.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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belqva · 16 days

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₊˚⊹౨ TAKE ME TO CHURCH [T.M.R.] ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: domestic violence, mentions of murder (it’s tom riddle are we even surprised?)

summary: At the hour of the owl, driven by anger and hurt, you left your dorm and wandered towards the Black Lake. There you encounter Tom Riddle. Your enigmatic conversation with your academic rival took an unexpected turn, leaving you with more questions than answers as you headed back to the castle.

pairing: tom riddle x ravenclaw fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is a draft that I didn’t plan on posting but I’m so busy atm I don’t have time to write anything else 🥲 again english is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes! as always my inbox is open and I’m happy to hear any criticism or requests as long as you are polite 🤍 not incredibly proud of this but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <333

It was the hour of the owl when you left your dorm room. Strictly forbidden, yes, but as a prefect—even if off-duty that evening—you were willing to risk detention. Quite unusual for an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself, but here you were, sneaking out like a thief in the night.

“Oh, bloody hell,” you muttered, consumed by anger that clouded your thoughts. Hatred and adrenaline coursed through your veins. The Ravenclaw common room was empty; everyone else was already in bed, even those who usually stayed up late. No one would see or question your departure. It was nearly three in the morning, dark and silent.

You made your way across the empty common room and down the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower, not entirely sure where you were going, but driven by a need to escape everything. The ancient Hogwarts castle was cold and empty, its walls whispering secrets. Some might find the silence unsettling, but you found it oddly comforting. The cool evening breeze was soothing against your warm skin, though you would likely regret leaving your sweater behind later. Dressed in your usual uniform—a skirt, a white button-up, and the silver-blue tie— you moved carefully through the deserted halls, avoiding even the faintest creak.

The castle felt unimaginably vacant. Your anger had begun to ebb, replaced by a gradual calmness. The walk and fresh air had helped. As you meandered through the halls, you decided to venture outside the castle. It wasn’t entirely safe, but you had your wand and weren't afraid of the dark anymore. The stars shone brightly above, and your worries seemed to drift away.

Heading towards the Black Lake to clear your mind, you noticed a figure on the shore. Your heart raced with fear. Quickly gripping your wand, you crept closer, only to recognize the familiar figure of Tom Riddle. His jet-black hair, piercing dark eyes, and imposing stature could not be mistaken. The sight of him was both intimidating and oddly magnetic.

“Riddle,” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet. As he turned, his wand aimed at the ready, you saw his defensive stance relax.

“Y/L/N,” Tom said, his tone sharp as ever. “It is rather uncouth to approach someone unannounced.”

You had never liked him, and the feeling was mutual. What began as a snarky rivalry in your first year had escalated into a fierce competition. Each of you tried to outdo the other, pushing boundaries and limits, reveling in victories and defeats. Despite your mutual animosity, there was an undeniable, if twisted, connection between you. Tom was not like other boys; he was cold, calculating, and ruthless. Yet, he maintained a facade of the humble, ambitious scholar. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and though you would never admit it, you found his intensity compelling.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t my intention, Riddle. My apologies,” you replied sarcastically.

As you approached, you noticed Tom’s irritated expression and the cigarette he had dropped. He took out another one, lit it with his wand, and took a drag before addressing you.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Y/L/N,” he said, ignoring your remark. “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

“You’re the one to talk,” you retorted. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Tom’s unimpressed glance betrayed his indifference. “Well, I’m delighted to catch you off guard.”

The sight of him indulging in such a muggle habit was unexpected. Given his staunch pureblood beliefs, it was surprising. But you supposed it made sense, considering his upbringing in a muggle orphanage. Where he got the cigarettes from was another mystery.

His reaction to your mention of muggles was intense. “I have nothing to do with those filthy creatures. The mere idea is offensive. Muggles are obsessed with pleasure, indulgence, and waste. They are nothing but animals in disguise.”

Tom’s passionate tirade was one of his defining traits. His ability to articulate his disdain with such fervor was both disturbing and strangely admirable. You had learned to disregard his over-the-top responses, focusing instead on his more genuine moments.

“Merlin, Riddle, calm down. It was just a question,” you said, trying to remain unfazed.

“And I am just answering you,” he countered, his demeanor quickly reverting to his usual composed facade. He took another drag of his cigarette, and a heavy silence settled between you.

After a moment, he broke the quiet. “So what is an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself doing out at this hour? I thought breaking the rules wasn’t your style.” His smirk was maddening.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the earlier anger fading, replaced by an uncomfortable shudder of vulnerability. Tom noticed the change in your demeanor and his expression grew serious. His perceptiveness was unnerving, a reminder of why you found it hard to trust him fully.

“Well, it’s stupid really. Foolish,” you admitted, defeated.

Tom raised an eyebrow, puffing smoke as you locked eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, a mutual recognition of the truth. You began to speak, revealing the turmoil behind your nighttime escapade.

You sat on the edge of your bed, struggling to focus on your assignments late into the evening.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your quill scratching parchment and the occasional rustle of pages. All your dormmates were out at a Gryffindor party celebrating their victory over Slytherin in the Quidditch match. You weren't worried about their early return; it was Friday, and with no classes the next day, they were likely to be out until afternoon, lost in firewhisky or other indulgences. They'd tried to drag you along, but you'd claimed a severe headache and a need for rest. None of them believed you, dismissing your excuses with rolled eyes and playful jabs.

As they left, one of them teased,

"Have fun trying to turn rubbish into a raccoon dog," and they all laughed.

You rolled your eyes, knowing their words were harmless. You were close friends who respected each other deeply; this was just part of your dynamic.

Just as you were settling into the quiet, a sudden interruption shattered the peace. Someone opened your dorm room door, and annoyance flared at the disruptive noise. "Jane, is that you? Because I swear on my mother's-" you began scolding as you turned, but your words faltered when you saw the dark mop of slicked-back hair. It was your boyfriend, Wiglaf Siggurdson.

"Sorry to disappoint," he chuckled, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You were relieved it wasn't one of the girls, but his presence did little to uplift your mood. You liked Wiglaf; he was smart, confident, and everything a girl could wish for. Yet, you often questioned if you truly loved him, if you loved him enough to be with him. He was the one who had asked you to be his girlfriend, and being the polite person you were, you had accepted. He came from a wealthy family, had impeccable manners, played Quidditch, and was almost perfect in every way. But you appreciated him more as a friend and couldn't bring yourself to admit it. You tried hard to convince yourself that he was the one, but your heart wouldn't comply. He was kind, brought you flowers, carried your books, walked you to classes, and treated you like the most special girl on earth. Yet, his presence stirred a surge of irritation.

"I was studying, you know, before you decided to interrupt me unannounced," you said stiffly, turning back to your work. Wiglaf stood in the middle of the room, unsure of how to proceed.

"So, no greeting? No 'Hello, my dear boyfriend who decided to ditch a party to come and see me'?" he remarked sarcastically. "And it's not like you're not always studying.

Nothing new really," he muttered under his breath. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Well, I didn't ask you to come see me," you said matter-of-factly without turning around. His frustration was evident as he moved closer to you.

"And not all of us have a rich father to secure a job at the Ministry as soon as we graduate, you know," you said, tone sharp. He sat beside you and sighed heavily. Dressed in a blue sweater and casual dress pants, he looked dejected.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," he said softly. You still refused to look at him. "Sure," you mumbled, uninterested.

"And anyway, if you marry me, you won't have to worry about things like that," he added, beaming with self-satisfaction. You froze, trying to process his words. "Excuse me?" you said, clearly offended. It wasn't unusual for women not to work after graduation, but you had made it clear that you intended to. His casual joke about it now was hurtful. You had hoped he understood you better. Even if you did marry him, you wanted to work and maintain your

independence. You didn't want to rely on anyone, especially not someone you weren't sure you truly loved.

"What's up with you?" Wiglaf groaned. "You're always so wound up and offended by everything I say.

You're always busy studying, and it's always some excuse for why you can't go or can't do this or that. You never actually want to spend time with me." His voice rose with anger. "So far, I'm the only one putting any effort into this relationship It's supposed to be a two person job.”

You frowned and buried your face in your hands. "Wiglaf, I'm not in the mood for this right now. I want to study and go to sleep. Can we please save this lecture for another time?" you said wearily.

"No!" he thundered unexpectedly.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to treat me like some dog on a leash," he hissed. You sighed, exasperated. "Oh, come on, stop acting childish, Wiglaf," you said, rolling your eyes as you began packing up your papers. You had no intention of continuing this argument; all you wanted was to go to bed.

"I come here, ditching all my mates to spend time with my girlfriend, who doesn't even bother to greet me, and now I'm the one acting childish?" He stood up, his frustration reaching a crescendo. "Oh, please," you muttered, standing up as well. As you tried to gather your papers, they slipped from your hands as Wiglaf gripped your wrists. The sudden contact shocked you, and your eyes widened in surprise.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson," he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. You could see the lust taking over his gaze. "Wiglaf, let go of me. I'm not in the mood right now," you said, your patience fraying.

But he was too enraged to listen. He pulled you closer, his grip painful.

"Wiglaf, let go! You're hurting me!" you protested, struggling against his hold. Instead of relenting, he pressed himself against you and forcefully kissed you, gripping your face and preventing you from breaking free. In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked him in the shin. The contact caused him to release you, and he hunched over in pain. You stood there, stunned by your own actions while he grunted, recovering from the kick.

The room was silent except for his pained breathing.

When he regained his composure, his eyes burned with rage. "Wiglaf, I-" you started, but before you could finish, he slapped you across the face.

The force of the blow left you reeling, and you felt the sting and warmth of blood on your lips. Wiglaf stood there, stunned, as if he couldn't fully grasp what he had just done.

Your fight-or-flight response kicked in, and you pushed past him, fleeing the room. He didn't try to follow you.

After a few moments, he collapsed on the floor, staring at the floorboards as he grappled with the gravity of his actions.

As you ran through Ravenclaw Tower, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you: shock, shame, disgust, guilt, sadness, and finally, red-hot seething anger. The only thought that brought you any comfort was the imagined cold, lifeless body of Wiglaf.

How could he do this after everything you had shared? It was unfathomable.

And that's how you found yourself sitting beside Tom Riddle on the shore of the Black Lake.

...and then I just left," you finished quietly. A heavy silence followed your explanation, and Tom's features darkened. You chuckled at the irony of it all. "Well, I suppose that's what l get for thinking that I-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence as Tom interrupted you. "I'm going to kill him." He stated plainly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You flinched at his violent intentions.

"What?" You quaked hoarsely. He couldn't be serious... could he?

"You heard me." Tom's eyes were sharp as he took a few steps closer. But you never knew Tom Riddle to be the type to joke about things like that.

"He dared lay a hand on what's mine, and now he's going to pay for it." His tone was cold.

What's his? By day, you were nothing but an academic rival to Tom Riddle, but by night, you were suddenly his treasured possession? What a twisted mind indeed. You sighed at his words, rubbing your temples, trying to make sense of everything. "Tom, you can't just-"

"Yes, I can and I will. Because tell me, do you not think about me when he's inside of you, when you touch yourself, when you wake up in the morning? You don't love him, Y/N. We both know it. And don't try to deny it. I see right through you." His voice was dark. "And don't tell me what I can and can't do. That's not for you to decide."You were stunned, your mind blank.

Tom Riddle was a confusing enigma.

One moment he hated you, the next he was willing to kill for you. For him, it was all the same. Wiglaf would just be another addition to his growing collection of Horcruxes. It was a win-win for him: a Horcrux, the removal of an annoyance, and you-all in one plan. Three birds, one stone.

Tom's body was now facing yours, and his cold hands brushed a stray hair from your forehead. "Don't waste your mind on people like him. I don't even know why you're with that dimwit..." he muttered quietly. His fingers traced the curve of your lip and the bloody spot Wiglaf's assault had left. As he touched you, the fire in your body reignited, and the magic you only felt around him came to life.

You never felt this way around Wiglaf.

With Tom, it was like you were alive for the first time. You burned for him.

You loved him. He knew it, and you knew it. Yet both of you understood it could never work. Your ambitions were far too... different.

You let your head rest on his palm, closing your eyes for a moment, letting all your worries fade away. Dreaming about a world in which Tom was capable of loving you. Or perhaps a world in which you were able to go against your moral compass and accept his twisted mind. You kissed his palm gently and then pulled away.

"I ought to get back to the castle before someone catches us. We'll both be in trouble." You cleared your throat and spoke.

Tom simply hummed in response.

Reluctantly, you moved away and started for the castle. Before you got too far, you turned to speak softly so he could hear you. "Good night, Tom."

His gaze was on you, but he didn't reply. You continued your way back to the castle, his eyes following your retreating form. When you were far enough away that Tom was sure you couldn't hear him, he spoke softly,

"Good night, my love."

The next morning, you didn't see Wiglaf at his usual spot at the breakfast table. You approached one of his mates to inquire about his whereabouts, wondering if he was hungover or something. But as you spoke to him, a look of concern crossed his face, and he regretfully explained that Wiglaf had ended up in the hospital wing the night before. No one knew how or why.

You felt a pair of eyes on you and turned to the Slytherin table. There they were: two onyx eyes staring back at you, deep into your soul, letting you know that once again, he had emerged victorious.

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

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Imma be an anon cause I'm bit scared . I fell in love with the way u write.

May I get a Headcanon with nanami if you're comfortable 🥺

A hurt /comfort where NANAMI raised his voice at reader which lead reader to distance him for a long period?

You can go anything with the plot . Thank you!

Hey honey, I'm not writing headcanons atm because I'm not comfortable with, but I decided to turn this into a full on fic instead - hope you like it, let me know! ♡

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Warnings: Listen, I adore the gentleman Nanami fics (as you can see on my own blog lol) but it was so much fun to let this man snap as well, to let his temper show once, this is a classy hurt to comfort with some angst - enjoy!

„Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll get yourself in serious danger. Stay behind me and let me handle this.”

You huff in sheer frustration, eyes piercing through the back of his perfect undercut. Why? Why isn’t Kento Nanami able to trust you? You are a grade 1 sorcerer just like he is, so skilful with handling your sword that even Gojo is impressed by your abilities. But despite all of that, he positioned himself in front of you instantly when that special grade curse appeared, blocking every minor attack that might come your way.

Oh, how much you love that man, how much you adore the way he cares about you deeply. It’s not a secret to anyone how you feel for each other, how your eyes light up when he enters the room, how his gaze instantly softens for only you.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.”

But this is too much. Damn, you’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer as long as he is, constantly training to get better and better. It’s not fair to lock you out of this fight when your-

“Stop contradicting me all the time!”

The sharp tone in his usual calm voice makes you flinch, body moving backwards automatically when he turns around. His eyes are cold, so cold that your blood seems to freeze in your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, especially not when it comes to you. That sweet and tender man with a face that doesn’t show any emotion most of the time now looks down at you with venom spitting from his orbs, arms so tight that his veins look like they’ll burst any minute.

“This is too big for you. Now do me a favour and stay.in.line.”

“But I’m-“

“ENOUGH!”

“Kento!”

“You are acting like a stupid child! Now do what I said!”

You are lost at words, eyes staring into his furious ones until he turns around and hunts after the blue-haired curse named Mahito again.

A wave of agony washes over you before you can stop it, body feeling numb. It’s ridiculous to be hurt about his words, surely he didn’t mean to raise his voice at you, but still…

You swallow hard. But still it fucking hurts. Since you’ve known him, Kento never snapped at you. Not once, not in a million lifetimes. He was always tender when expressing his opinion just like you are. Yes, there were never heated arguments, cruel words or loud voices from any of you. But he just broke that unsaid rule.

He really hit you where it hurts.

-back at jujutsu high-

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Your fingers ruffle through the pink hair in front of you gently, eyes scanning over Yuji’s bruised body. What an impressive boy he is. How did he manage to break through this sphere, to almost end that curse? For a new jujutsu sorcerer, he is remarkably skilled - and a true sweetheart on top.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me, (y/n)-san. How are you feeling? You seem so…I don’t know, different I guess. Are you alright?”

You force a small smile onto your shaky lips. Is it selfish that you can’t forget the way Kento barked at you, that he basically told you you are too weak for this fight? You wish you were better than that, strong enough to outstand your self-seeking feelings and visit him in the hospital wing.

But you simply can’t. Not right now. Not when his stinging voice is still so present in your mind.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Hey, how you’re doing, sweet cheeks? Nanami is asking for you, are you free?”

You swallow away the big lump forming in your throat, eyes not daring to look up at her.

“Actually, I still have to tell Gojo what happened. Thank him for his invitation, I have to keep going.”

You need to get out of here as fast as possible, away from the stinging gaze of Shoko who knows exactly something’s up, who eyes you up and down. As if in trance you storm out of the hospital wing, straight into the burning hot sunlight, heart pumping so hard against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any possible minute.

“ENOUGH!”

His voice still echoes through your head, makes you feel like a child again. Kento never looked at you this coldly, without any emotion in his usual so soft orbs. What on earth did you do to upset him like this? After all, you were on countless missions together before, defeated multiple grade 1 curses side by side. What was different this time? Was it Yuji, the bad weather? Why did he decide to scream at you like this?

“What are you doin’ here? I was already on my way to look after you in the hospital wing. Aren’t ya supposed to be by Nanami’s side?”

Your heart stops for a minute. Fuck, Gojo Satoru and his cheeky smile are definitely the last thing you need right now. If he only knew how much his words make your heart sting in agony, how much strength it costs you to act like nothing happened. You know how ridiculous it must be, avoiding the love of your life over some random words and a harsh tone.

But you can’t help it.

“I was on my way to report about the mission”, you explain briefly.

“Is there something you need to tell me? C’mon, you can’t even look at me (y/n).”

Your glossy eyes dart towards Gojo. God, how pathetic you feel. Why aren’t you able to just get over it and move on? Why are you making things so hard for both you and Kento, standing here on the brink of tears instead of being by his side?

“I can’t have it right now, Gojo. Just leave me alone.”

But despite the way your heart aches for him, you continue walking towards your dorm. That stone cold look on his face, the way he clenched his fists.

“This is too big for you.”

“You are acting like a stupid child.”

You shake your head violently. No, you aren’t able to simply forgive and forget what you saw that mission. This man wasn’t the Kento Nanami you know and love, not the man you thought he was. What if it was all a lie? What if this is what he really sees in you? A weakling, a dumb child.

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose your composure.

“I need some time for myself…”

-a few weeks later-

Kento hates it with every fiber of his being. Waking up in the morning, your face still present in his sleep-drunken mind until reality hits him. Since he lashed out, you didn’t talk more than a few necessary sentences with him. And even though you don’t seem to be cold and distant, everything just changed.

Oh, if he could turn back time, if he was able to take back all those things he said to you. He should have stopped when you flinched backwards, should have stopped when your eyes turned glossy. But he knew your life was in serious danger, that Mahito is no curse to be messed with. The decision between hurting your feelings or watching you die…

At least you’re safe. At least Mahito was too focused on finishing him to even involve you into his sphere. This should be everything he cares about, it’s only naturally that you are hurt. But still…What would he do to hold you again, what would he do for you to smile at him as brightly as you did back then. He misses you with his whole heart.

“You could just try talking to her, y’know? I bet (y/n) might understand”, Gojo tries to cheer him up, legs laying stretched out on the table between them.

“I don’t want to force myself onto her. After all, I deserve her anger and disappointment.”

And oh, it was written on your face. The way your trembling lips parted, how your eyes widened just the slightest when his words hit you like a train.

“C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself-“

“I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for doing that”, he interrupts the white-haired man determined.

“Well, could you forgive yourself if she got killed?”

Nanami lets out his breath, simply stares into the distance. Of course Gojo is right. Damn, he doesn’t regret his decision. But still…

It hurts.

“Sorry. Do you have a minute to…talk?”

His heart stops beating. There you stand, nervously picking on your nails while you look at him. God, he always looks so fine. Why on earth does he have to look so fine? No, you have to focus. After all, you are here to talk things out. These last weeks were nothing but torture for you, your heart bleeding waterfalls every time you saw him. Oh, you never knew you were able to crave someone else this badly.

But there you are, standing in the door like an idiot.

“You sure can! I’m doing…some other stuff I guess. See ya!”

Within the blink of an eye, Gojo is gone in the wind and leaves you alone with him.

“You don’t have to stand there. Please, sit down.”

That gentle tone you know you well, his inviting voice that makes your stomach drop from time to time. With wobbly legs, you cross the room to sit opposite to him on the still warm chair of Gojo.

What are you supposed to say? How are you supposed to act? Your mind goes blank, forgets every little piece of conversation you trained these last days. Fuck, why are you even here? Maybe you should just leave-

He grabs your hand.

Nanami Kento grabs your hand.

“Let me apologize for the things I said to you back then. It was in no way right to snap at you like that. But when I saw what Mahito is able to do, when I realized he is far better than all the other special grade courses I ever encountered…(y/n), it might sound selfish, but all I could think about was saving you.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, heart beating out of your chest. Did he…did he really say that?

“You…wanted to save me…”

“You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than me. But if it wasn’t for Yuji, I would be dead by now. To think that you might die…I couldn’t take it, (y/n). You are everything to me.”

“Everything…”

“This might be the wrong moment, the worst timing for saying such things. But I love you, (y/n). I loved you with all my heart for ages, love you for everything you are. Even though you aren’t able to forgive me what I said, even though you don’t want to see me again…(y/n), I love you.”

The countless nights you kept yourself awake pondering about how he feels for you, the countless nights his words echoed through your heart. The countless nights you thought you interpreted his affection wrong, that he doesn’t feel the same.

Vanished into thin air.

Nothing but a fade whisper in the darkness.

“These last weeks you were all I could think about. I thought you might not feel the same, that you might not be the person I thought you were-“

He squeezes your hands firmly, the troubled ocean of his eyes getting lost in yours.

“I’m not able to put my feelings into words the way you deserve it, (y/n). But I know for sure that I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You snap. All these nights without him, the grief you were put through, his gorgeous face close enough to touch while you couldn’t allow yourself to. With a swift motion you crawl over the table that divides the two of you, closing the distance of these past weeks with a kiss.

A kiss that contains all the anger, the disappointment and the affection you hold for him. That gorgeous man who swept you off your feet. That gorgeous man who showed a side you’ve never seen before, who risked his own life in order to save yours.

Nanami Kento.

“God, I love you (y/n). I love you so much”, he mutters against your lips, hands pressing you firmly against his warm body.

“I don’t want to let go again.”

He smiles against your mouth, eyes gleaming like the sun itself.

“Then don’t”.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

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overtrred28 · 7 months

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Watch my shattered edges glisten| Leah Williamson x young!reader (platonic)

Summary; Being so good so young brings a lot of attention to you, especially when you make a simple mistake. Leah notices you struggling and helps you as you begin to crack under the pressure. Inspired by "Mirrorball" by my mother, Taylor Swift.

Pairings; Leah Williamson x young!reader (platonic), lionesses x reader (platonic)

Words; 2k

Warnings; sad, swearing, angst.

A/N; Is it too much to ask just to be comforted by Leah. Sorry about the sadness but it's so fun to write and play it out in my head. A little it rushed but I wanted to get something out and i'm off work sick so very clearly bored atm. Enjoy.

It was no secret that Leah felt a need to protect you and basically adopt you when you entered the senior team just a few months ago. You were quite young, like most of the other girls were when they got their first call ups, but there was a naivety and innocence to you that she felt the need to take you under her wing very quickly.

You had excelled very easily in the youth and U23 squads, becoming one of the best defenders for your age and following closely behind in the footsteps of the one and only Leah Williamson. So when you got that call from Sarina inviting you to your first senior camp, you were both excited and extremely nervous to be in the presence of your biggest inspirations.

There was a lot of press when your call up was publicly announced, people who had watched you in the younger squads cheering you on and other fans ready to see how you would fit within the senior team. A lot of the younger players in the squad were more than excited to hear of you finally moving up, most of you playing together and growing up together at national camps over the years. So there was no reason for you to worry about when arriving at St Georges park for the first time.

But the thought about being in an unfamiliar environment with new people and a new team still made you nervous. So it was understandable that you were quiet and reserved for the first day, still greeting everyone but unsure of where your place in the squad was just yet. The girls you had grown up with were lovely as always but it had been a few years since you were all together, so it was different.

That's when Leah knew she had to make the effort and ensure your transition to the senior squad was smooth and easy, making you comfortable with the girls which would benefit your performance on the field.

"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out to you, making you turn your head to find the Leah Williamson waving you over to her table. You swallowed your nerves before walking over to her with your breakfast tray in your shaky hands. She shifted over to make a space for you between herself and Keira. That was the first and certainly not the last time Leah had made sure you felt welcome and supported on the team.

A few camps in and everyone was calling you a mini Leah, not that you minded. You and the older defender had a lot in common, making it easy to get along and create a sisterly bond quite easily.

Despite being in a lower-ranked team of the WSL, many people already knew who you were and were ready to support you as you joined the senior squad. This helped with your nerves as you waited to sub on during your first national game, hearing the home crowd cheer as your number displayed beside Leah's.

"You've got this little one." Leah whispered as she hugged you, making your heart swell and your eyes roll at the nickname before you ran out and took her place on the field next to Millie and Lotte.

It's safe to say your run with the national team has been going quite well since your first game, finding yourself appearing in every match and even starting in the two in the previous camp.

Your impressive defensive skills and tactics had been noticed when you were on national duty and during regular matches, causing your agent to call you with many offers from many different clubs in the WSL and even other leagues. But there was one that stood out and would be a no-brainer to transfer during the January window, especially as a place to work on your skills ahead of the World Cup this summer.

So you officially left the club that started your professional career at 18 just three years ago and set off to North London, moving into Leah's flat; nice and close to the Colney.

It was in a friendly against Australia where you made a simple mistake that would impact you and your career so harshly, so quickly.

3 months out from the world cup and this one mistake almost cost you your spot in the World Cup squad... or so you were made to believe.

It was a simple mistake that plenty of players all over the world had made before; stepping out that little bit too much during a tackle and risking the player you were trying to mark, especially with the current weather conditions. That's all it took. But you knew the moment your studs hit Kyra's boot, your match was over.

The whistle was blown within seconds of her body hitting the floor and her grabbing onto her foot where your studs had accidently landed. You looked down to where her team was beginning to surround her, frozen in place until a hand on your shoulder shook you out of it and your head moved the ref who was reaching in her back pocket. The red card came into view and although you knew it was coming, your heart still sunk as she wrote your number on the back.

A few of the England girls began to start arguing with ref that it should have at least been a yellow, but you knew there was no point, anyone could see that it was a definite red and you were officially benched for the rest of the game and the next one coming. So with a hung head you walked off the field and over to the tunnel, the voices of your teammates and the disappointed home crowd blurring into the background, everything feeling as though it was in slow motion as the rain continued to fall.

"I'm sorry." You spoke to Sarina who silently nodded her head at you, both a sympathetic and disappointed look on her face as you passed by and walked down to the change room.

You sat down on the bench in front of your cubby and stared down at the boots that let down the team and left them a man down with 20 minutes still to go.

There was something bubbling in your chest that should have been anger at the situation but it was just bitter disappointment in yourself and that was ultimately worse. Water formed in your eyes and your throat began closing up as you bit back the tears that were trying to escape, but you couldn't let them.

You ended up showering and changing into your tracksuit as you waited for the match to end and what you presumed would be a lot of upset teammates ready to storm in and hurl their anger towards you. You curled up in your cubby, headphones on but no music playing, and closed your eyes as you waited.

You were so buried within yourself that you hadn't noticed all the girls coming in and spotting you making yourself so small, breaking all of their hearts as they could see how hard you were taking this.

It was Esme who eventually disturbed you, tapping your shoulder gently, silently nodding to the door of the once again empty changeroom after everyone began to leave for the bus.

She threw her arm around you, tucking you into her side as you walked out to the back and towards the bus where everyone was waiting. Once again you were left alone by the girls on the bus, they could see you were utterly disappointed and didn't want to accidentally make it worse. So although you were sat by yourself, you could feel 22 pairs of eyes on you every so often, but most intensely from a blonde captain further back on the bus.

It didn't take long for the press to have their say on the incident, immediately shaming you for your mistake and basically flushing your name and reputation down the toilet. So as you mindlessly scrolled through social media on the way back, your feed was filled with posts and comments about the incident. You knew better than to read what they wrote about you, but you couldn’t stop, obsessed with reading every article that featured your name.

Most of the comments were the same, things like "how dangerous it really could have been" and that you were "young and reckless and irresponsible with your choices as a defender." Deep down you knew they were wrong about you but it was hard to fight through the voices saying they were right and that you were a bad footballer.

Leah started to get worried when you were not only ignoring the other girls, but then you began distancing yourself upon returning home with her. You stayed in your room as much as you could and tried to stay away from Leah but it was hard when living in the same house.

The night that you got back she barely heard from you, wanting to respect your privacy for as long as she could but when she heard your soft cries through the door she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Y/N?” She knocked softly on the door, waiting for a response but you stayed quiet. “I’m coming in okay.” She gave a warning before opening the door softly, her eyes instantly finding you tucked into the covers facing away from the door. “Oh little one.”

Her soft voice made a sob finally escape and you began properly breaking down for the first time. She hated seeing you like this, contrastingly different to the bubbly, mischievous person you were known to be. She crawled up under the covers, rolling you over and placing your head upon her chest.

“What can I do?” She began smoothing your hair with her fingers, she knew this is what came with becoming a footballer in the spotlight but she didn’t think it would get you this early in your career.

“Just hold me please.” Your voice was soft and broken, trying to stop the images and words they were saying from spiralling in your mind.

“None of what they say is true, I need you to know that.” Leah spoke again after a few minutes of silence, finally feeling your breathing slow and the tears stopping. “It was an accident and you know it, I know it, she knows it and they know it too.” She was referring to Kyra who you had already sent a message to, apologising for hurting her and the media who were riling up a story to fill their articles full of nonsense for more money.

“This does not change who you are as a person or a player, it happens to everyone and it will go away once they find something new to talk about. But you need to ignore them.” She continued, waiting for any kind of response. “Promise me you’ll ignore them.” Leah looked down at you, tapping your head as a signal to look up at her.

“I promise.” You gave her a small smile while nodding.

“Come on, let’s go eat some smileys.” She flung the covers off and pushed you up with a laugh, getting one out of you for the first time since it happened.

“You have the pallet of a five year old.” You shook your head as you crawled out of your bed.

“And what about it?” She wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you exited out to the kitchen, pressing a small kiss to your head as you walked together.

It was at that moment you felt truly grateful for Leah and all she had given you since joining the Lionesses and Arsenal. She took you in and gave you an environment to thrive and be comfortable in a new place when she didn’t have any obligation to. But you would forever be in debt to her kindness and never reject anything she gave to you.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #lionesses #england wnt #engwnt

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celestialprincesse · 7 months

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could we maybe get soft price being absolutely whipped for his wife? headcanons or drabble work! no worries if you don’t want to write this <3

Can we get more soft Price

Do the bears shit in the woods? Does the pope wear a hat? Am I feral for John Price?

(Yes)

Firstly, this man has been wanting to get married for so long, he wants someone to call his own. Someone to come home to.

Something in him feels wrong for wanting something so arguably traditional. He wants someone to provide for, someone to protect and come home to.

God if his wife isn’t the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. When he comes home to her snuggled on the sofa, dinner stewing in the Le Creuset he bought her after she said that one of her friends had recommended they get one, his heart swells a little. A lot.

The way she jumps up beaming to welcome him home still makes him a little teary despite having dated for four years and being married for two.

He always thought that men like him didn’t deserve beautiful, gentle, kind women like her. To see her so utterly elated at him merely walking into their entrance hall does something to his soul.

He’s so quick to scoop her up, peppering kisses to her cheeks and nose like he’s not seen her in years, even though he’s only been gone for an afternoon meeting.

The minute he’s home she struggles to let go of him, not when he’s so toasty and soft and warm.

If she makes dinner, he sets the table and washes the dishes afterwards.

Always tells her that the boys and Laswell send their love. They all appreciate his wife just as much as he does, glad that John has finally found his person.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Sorry this is so short!! I don’t have my laptop with me atm and apparently I can’t type on my phone💕

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #cod #call of duty #John price #captain John price #captain price #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #john price x y/n #captain price x f!reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x reader #price x f!reader #price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #angies asks!

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rfxiii · 10 months

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could I request hcs for franklin, trevor, and michael on how they would go about apologizing or making it up to you after they did something wrong (I feel like I'm not making sense lol 😆 but basically I'm asking how would they get back on your good side after messing up big time) if requests are close, I apologize!!

(This totally makes sense, no worries! And my requests are always open, so feel free to send an ask whenever you’d like- I’m just a little slow atm. Also, I’m sorry about the long wait, and I hope you like it ☺️)

Franklin, Trevor, and Michael making up with you after an argument:

Franklin Clinton:

Arguments with Franklin are fairly rare. He’s a pretty level headed, loyal partner. But, like every relationship, arguments do happen.

Despite being kind, loyal, and loving, Franklin is also stubborn. It can be the cause of several of your arguments. And can also lead to him refusing to admit he’s wrong right away.

But once he does realize he’s been wrong, and understands that he’s upset you, he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make it up to you.

He’ll come to you like a sad puppy- curling up beside and gently taking your hands in his. He’s had time to think about what went wrong, and what was done to start the argument to begin with. He wants to talk it over, wants to get to the root of the problem to make sure it never happens again. He’ll stay up all night talking with you, and apologizing, until he’s sure everything is resolved and that you’ve forgiven him.

He may buy you something small and sweet the day after the fight. A teddy bear or a bouquet of roses aren’t uncommon after the two of you have had a disagreement. And for a few days afterwards, he treats you especially gently. He hates hurting your feelings or making you mad. So, he wants to prove just how much he does love you. Even if you two do argue.

Trevor Philips:

Arguments with Trevor are fairly commonplace. He’s set in his insane ways, and always self assured that he’s right. He’s more apt to listen to reason when it comes to you. But his erratic, wild behavior, and bad, dangerous habits are normally the root of arguments between you two.

There are several ways things can go after you two argue. But more often than not, it’s a couple days of passive aggressive comments and the silent treatment, until he’s convinced that this is the fight that’s going to split you guys apart. And then comes the waterworks.

He comes, literally, crawling back to you on his hands and knees, sobbing and snot nosed as he begs you not to leave him. He’s usually fairly high when he breaks down like this, so talking to him is slightly difficult. But he babbles at you non stop- telling you how much he loves you, how sorry he is, how he’s “such a worthless shit”.

The true talking it out usually comes the next morning, or afternoon, depending on how fucked up he got. But after his tears dry up and he’s caught his breath from all the sobbing, his usual method of making up with you is desperate, clingy sex. He doesn’t have a very good grasp on such big emotions, so he shows them physically instead of verbally. And you can feel his love and remorse through every press of his lips and every touch of his rough, scarred hands.

Michael De Santa:

He has issues with loyalty and honesty. You knew that before you got with him. But it doesn’t make the arguments that ensure because of it any easier.

He’s stubborn, self assured, and hot headed. Getting Michael to admit he’s wrong is like pulling teeth. And getting him to apologize is harder than winning a one man war. Once you two start to fight, it can last for days. And because of his petty, passive aggressive attitude, he sometimes tends to make things twice as bad.

It’s almost never that you hear him actually say “I’m sorry”. But eventually, after a few days of fighting, he realizes he’s being a child and understands that he was wrong. Even if he won’t admit it. So, he shows it the best way he knows how. Through gifts.

You’ll come home to find expensive jewelry on your pillow, or a new outfit hung up for you in the closet. He’ll have your favorite dinner made, and he’ll buy the wine he knows you like the best. He won’t apologize to you. But over dinner, he’ll take your hand, tell you how beautiful you look, and say something like “Let’s not fight anymore, angel. You know I hate seeing you upset.”

You know he’s too prideful to apologize. So, usually it’s just easier to cut your losses and accept that, while he’ll never verbally apologize, this is his version of saying “I’m sorry”. You know he truly is apologetic, and you love him, so you both agree to let this go and move on. He’s a good man, he’s just a little emotionally immature at times.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton x reader #franklin clinton/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa/reader

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scaralvr · 2 years

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⠀⠀ 💤 GOOD LOOKING! scaramouche x gn!reader

synopsis: kunikuzushi is confused as to why his 'heart' craves something besides you, his lover. when he comes to realize he abandoned you just like his creator and friends did to him, he returns only to be greeted by nothing. ୨ sfw, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort ୧

⠀⠀📋 this is a short nd silly little filler post while i'm working on heaps of reqs atm😵‍💫 this is based off of suki waterhouse's song good looking!!

kunikuzushi seeks something greater in the comforting and quiet life he has with you. after three betrayals, he's finally found someone to love and care for without having to worry about them leaving. but why is it that his heartless chest yearns for something else? is it possible you're not what he needs?

he awakes in a cold sweat when he finds out. a heart. the puppet longs for a heart of his own. being able to love and be loved wasn't enough, or so he thought. one day when you leave to get groceries, kunikuzushi asks if he can join you, to your surprise. and of course, you could never turn down your lover.

you smile and allow him to go to inazuma city with you. you tell him it's good for him, that he has a chance of meeting new people and improving his communication skills. and kunikuzushi may have met people, but definitely not the ones you would've wanted him to.

tides thrash inside, baby, i'm high octane

you find your lover's presence to be something rare nowadays, as you're spending nights alone with an empty bed and a blank mind. it's not as lively without kunikuzushi, you would think. you turn to face the window and the moon is high and proud among the pitch black sky filled with stars.

the familiar sound of the door opening alarms you and you get out of bed with a hopeful smile on your lips. "kunikuzushi!" you greet the puppet with a warm welcome as you help him take off his materials. lately, he seems to be indulging in oddly different clothes rather than the ones you sewed just for him.

his gaze is so cold and distant. you notice this while waiting for him to speak up, but he never does. scaramouche brushes past you and slides the shoji doors shut to his room. your heart twinges for a moment. you were hoping to finally talk to him after what seemed like forever, but he must be busy again. surely, he doesn't need his lover as a thorn in his side.

fever in a shock wave, my core vibrates in an opium haze

scaramouche barely remembers he even had a lover to begin with. he supposes being occupied with fatui business has taken a toll on his memory as well, besides his physical and mental state. he allowed the doctor to perform strange tests on him after studying scaramouche as a specimen. he'll admit; the "harmless" experiments performed on him were rougher than he expected, but all's fine.

if he can't take on all of this pain on his own, how can he continue his path to stealing the gnosis and becoming a God? through these experiences, scaramouche has come to hate mirrors. when he looks at himself, he finds the same vulnerable boy inside him despite changing so much within time. the split ends of his hair remind him of how he ruthlessly cut it himself after his mother abandoned him.

he merely scoffs at the thought. only weaklings dwell upon the past. scaramouche is the present and future; he believes that the past is a waste of time and it will always be that way. yet through all of this time, he didn't even realize he left someone else in the past.

yet you think we're the same

scaramouche doesn't notice your disappearance until it turns into months, maybe even more than that. well, it doesn't matter, if anything, this should help. he'll deal with the pain all by himself like he always does and it'll strengthen himself as he journeys to the birth of his becoming of a God. but why does it hurt moreso than usual?

scaramouche doesn't understand why he holds too many emotions. he doesn't want to have emotions and he never needed them in the first place. he believes it's a flaw, along with the other mistakes his creator made when making him. he doesn't understand why tears cascade down his face in an uncontrollable state as he curls up on the bed, void of anyone's warmth.

starting at that point, he began to change into the pleasant yukata you sewed for him rather than his uncomfortable fatui attire. the scent of you still lingered in the cotton as he buries his nose into the material. scaramouche solemnly pulls away and looks around as if he just awoke from a bad dream.

"where are you... (y/n)?" kunikuzushi queries.

the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all

kunikuzushi can hardly pay any attention to his fatui duties when he finally realizes your sudden disappearance from his life. you promised to stay by his side, and that you did, but where were you now? maybe you went down to the city and he simply didn't notice. although, your trips don't usually take this long.

kunikuzushi is aware he doesn't have a heart, so why, why is there an inexplicable pain in his chest where it's supposed to be? it hurts, he cries to himself at night as he recalls all of the innocent lives he took, their blood in his hands as he kept it to himself. a poor excuse for a God in the making...

he felt so useless and lost. how much time has past? for how long were you already gone? did you leave of your own accord? did someone else take you away? questions plagued his mind as he could hardly rest with such thoughts.

i thought i'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more

as time passes, he grows a temper that would make anyone turn the other way the moment they saw him. scaramouche is filled with nothing but loathe for this wretched teyvat he roams and the heavenly celestia that watches upon him. why did they take you of all people? what made you leave?

these are the type of things that he's thinking the second he sees you after lesser lord kusanali takes the gnosis away from him. he can't tell whether it's real, and in this case, it probably isn't. but he hasn't seen you in so long, he doesn't care if it's short lived. scaramouche allows himself to sink into your embrace, unknowing of the fact that he's falling to the ground after the wires of the machine detached from him.

"it hurts, (y/n). i don't want to be here anymore," he cries into the crook of your neck as you hush him, your fingers brushing through his hair. "you're the strongest i've come to known, my kunikuzushi. continue what you began for me. i'll be waiting for you."

a kiss is planted against his forehead and he awakes from his slumber.

you adored me before, oh my good looking boy.

in a frightened state, the wanderer looks left and right, searching for your whereabouts. it doesn't take him very long to find you, for you're sound asleep next to him. he slowly gulps and his hand hovers over your face in hesitation. dear teyvat and celestia above, can something go right for once? just this once, as he's suffered for so many years and he doesn't wish for it to continue.

your eyelids flutter open and he quickly retracts his hand. you look at him and your lips form a smile. the smile he came to love and missed for the longest time. then, you part your beautiful lips to speak, and your voice is as soft and gentle as ever. "what are you doing up so late, dear? you and the traveler have a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"

you ask as you gather all of your strength to sit up, still half-asleep. he struggles to release a sentence from his mouth, even a word would do good, but he just couldn't. his lips are agape as he marvels at your presence. you sleepily giggle, "oh, love. you can't keep slacking off, you know that, right? the traveler's little fairy... thing, paimon, is constantly talking about how you seem so lost in your thoughts all of the time."

"i..." a word. he finally speaks. "can i..." all of a sudden, tears begin to stream down his face and you're taken aback. "k-kunikuzushi, are you alright?" you question him in a panicking state as you're fully awake, sitting on your knees to examine his face. he takes it upon himself to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his arms slithering around your torso as he clings to you for dear life. his hands are clutching at you as if you were to disappear at any given moment, but it never happens.

the one and only time, can he feel relieved. his muscles aren't as strained anymore as he allows his frail body to make your embrace its home. you pause, your movements at a stop as your body is tense, but you rest your hand in his hair. "can i stay here? i don't feel like helping the traveler with whatever tomorrow..." he mumbles, hoping you'd say yes, at the very least. a chuckle escapes your lips.

"of course, love. we need more time alone, don't we? but for now, let's rest together." you pull away as he does and you slot your lips into his. he eagerly indulges in the kiss and his chest, though heartless, comes to be filled with a happy warmth that can cause a grin to break out onto his features. "rest with you... i need that, more than ever."

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 6 months

Text

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him.

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together.

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close.

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own.

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?”

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’.

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?”

“Hmmhmm.”

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that?

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold.

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?”

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants.

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.”

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.”

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it.

He shivers. You know what you’re doing.

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle.

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary.

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him.

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him.

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words.

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say.

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake.

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.”

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers.

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?”

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince.

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.”

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.”

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.”

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.”

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?”

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease.

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter.

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.”

You grin and kiss his nose.

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning.

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?”

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Almost all the time.”

“Almost?”

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice.

“I’m sleeping.”

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly.

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again.

“You don’t mind?”

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

“Steven won’t care.”

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.”

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment.

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.”

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.”

You poke your tongue out at him.

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.” He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction.

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive.

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?”

Jake nods once.

“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily.

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins.

“But, humour me, yeah?”

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.”

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.”

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?”

“Jake.”

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective.

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth.

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous.

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips.

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked.

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his.

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants.

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you.

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck.

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing.

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly.

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down.

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time.

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him.

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy.

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold.

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing.

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides.

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue.

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth.

“This okay?” You ask between licks.

“Yes, ah, yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds.

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily.

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air.

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat.

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush.

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly.

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips.

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth.

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you.

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around.

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.”

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches.

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering.

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?”

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning.

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.”

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture.

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside.

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy.

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?”

“You.”

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls.

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you.

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back.

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore.

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on.

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal.

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock.

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge.

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time.

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat.

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again.

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain.

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly.

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly.

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace.

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch.

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear.

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises.

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair.

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words.

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air.

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity.

“Please what?” You whisper.

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips.

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before.

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his.

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down.

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside.

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still.

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?”

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.”

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly.

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage.

His fingers don’t falter though.

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second.

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour.

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly.

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still.

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans.

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same.

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace.

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin.

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it.

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants.

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend.

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe.

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe.

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you.

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.”

You snort. “Oh, do you?”

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @pimosworld @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @dumdaradumdaradum @plastichearts @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @spxctorsslxt

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x female reader #x female reader #jake lockley x f!reader #x f!reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #moon knight bingo 2024 #moon knight events

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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Note

here to single handedly keep baby darling alive 🤲🏼 never forget about them 😭

Baby Darling is one of my favorite fics atm I won't lie

Something that you still have to get used to, is the fact that Jungkook is not that kind of guy to hide his infatuation with you.

His friends are a little intimidating- and from looks alone, one might argue that they look like the definition of trouble, but after listening to them all talk and joke around for a bit, you realize they're actually really nice people.

Jungkook had asked you via text to bring him his wallet that he'd forgotten at your place a day prior- and you'd done so, meeting him at a small bar where everyone was sitting outside at a small table drinking and joking around.

At first, you didn't really know if you should- but eventually, you did, because honestly, you've become pretty attached to him these days. And he's not at all like the boyfriends you've witnessed your own friends have- he's not shy with pda, has you on his thigh right now because 'you don't need a chair, you've got me right here'.

Safe to say, Jungkook doesn't mind showing you off at all.

"She's really quiet." Jimin comments, and despite his almost intimidating aura, you find him pretty nice.

"You'll tell me when you wanna head home, right baby?" Jungkook worries at you, and you nod- while Yoongi shakes his head.

"I can't believe you finally found a proper girl." He simply mumbles, stealing a sip from Jimin's glass.

"They do fit though." Jimin giggles. "She's cute, and he's too." He comments, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"I'm not cute, what are you talking about?" He growls almost, taking his beer for himself.

"You are cute. Did you know that he cries when watching Disney movies?" Yoongi spills, and Jungkook groans.

"Alright, this was a mistake. Babe, we're leaving." He jokes, making you smile at him.

"If we leave, are we gonna watch a movie at my place?" You wonder, and Jungkook stares at you caught off guard-

before the rest of the table, including you, erupts into laughter.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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berriweb · 1 year

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ FOR ME? ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. attempted robbery (don’t steal atms kids), cursing

: ̗̀➛ note. i can’t resist writing for the silly little guy

Ring ring ring.

“Hey, Y/N, when you get a chance do you think you could look over some of the papers? If you’re not busy or anything.”

“Of course!”

Buzz. Buzz.

1 unread message. 1 new voicemail.

“You think you could be a dear and help out with my reports? I’m a little behind and you know how the boss can be…”

“It’s fine, I can help you.”

Ring ring ring.

2 new voicemails.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind-”

“Just leave it on my desk.”

“You’re the best!”

Between the insistent notifications going off on your phone and your coworkers/supervisors approaching you what seemed like every 5 minutes, it was nearly impossible to keep your head on long enough to get everything done.

After the aftermath of the whole disaster with Alchemax, your job seemed to become increasingly more difficult to manage on your own. Less people to help meant more work for you and less time to yourself, on top of the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to any employee that wanted to take advantage of your willingness to take on any assignment the other didn’t feel like finishing. Surely most of your team had caught onto that by now.

You were worked to the bone nearly every day, which was surprising enough considering you weren’t even on a high enough level to be working on any of the big projects, not to say your skills as a scientist were mediocre, but compared to other geniuses you weren’t much of a competition. Your job however, stressful as it was, was the only thing keeping you from ending up homeless on the street, so despite the exhaustion and anxiety-inducing environment, you pushed on. No need to add any more stress to the plate by trying to find someplace else to work.

And to top it all off, there was Johnny.

Letting out a breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, you practically collapsed into your chair and wheeled yourself to your desk to drop all of the piles of unnecessarily complicated documents you’d need to get done. The moment you allowed yourself to get your shit together before you were back to working like a dog was likely the only chance you’d get to relax, so you took the opportunity to check your phone that had been consistently alerting you for the last 15 minutes.

7 missed calls from J 😘

5 unread messages from J 😘

2 voicemails from J 😘

Your face fell as you scrolled through your notifications bar, a mixture of guit and worry creeping up your neck.

Ever since the accident, you felt an extra need to be there for the man when he showed up late one night at your door, or rather halfway through it (damn those uncontrollable holes) crying that he had nowhere else to go. At least you assumed he would’ve been crying if he had a face to do so, but the tone of his voice was more than enough of an indicator. Prior to the incident, you two had a solid relationship going for years after meeting in the workplace, and to say that you were worried for him after hearing the news of what had happened while sitting at home waiting for him to return that night was an understatement.

He was gone for weeks, and just when you were starting to assume the worst he popped back up in your life in a completely new form. Your heart broke for him when he explained how everyone else had cast him out and how he’d been afraid to return to you out of fear that you’d do the same, and while you admit that seeing him like this took some getting used to, you weren’t going to abandon him too.

Ever since he’s mostly been hiding out in your apartment relying on you for all of his needs, as the few attempts to go out in public in a decent enough disguise didn’t go well, to say the least. You had noticed how he’d become far more reliant on you and clingy as a result, meaning multiple texts and calls a day whenever you were out of the house and he was left alone to his own devices. You tried to be as responsive as you could to avoid making him feel more alone (and because you knew he’d started to harbor some guilt for “leeching” off of you and being part of the reason you had to work more often and pay rent on your own), but sometimes your work duties got the better of you.

You opened the messages first.

J😘: Are you going to be working late again today? I want to plan something for you.

J😘: What do you think of the name, “The Spot”? That sounds menacing enough, right? I’m coming up with something big right now.

J😘: “Holeman” just doesn’t sound as cool, you know? I’ll work on it.

J😘: Sorry I know I’m texting a lot, are you busy?

J😘: I’m going out, might not be home when you make it.

That uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach only intensified, and while the messages themselves weren’t exactly that worrying, something was telling you he was up to no good. And where was he going?

Your thumbs hovered over the screen for what felt like forever before you went to tap on the unopened voicemails.

“Hey babe, I know this is kind of out of the blue but I know how hard you’ve been working at Alchemax for us and I want to do something to repay you for it- just a way to say thank you I guess? I know what you said about not feeling guilty and everything but I really want to do this for you, you know I can’t keep living off of you and staying cooped up in that apartment forever- n-not that I’m ungrateful or anything! You do a lot for us, you did a lot for me and I’ll never be able to repay you for showing me that kindness when nobody else would.”

“I really needed that and I really need you. You’re sort of the only one I really have left, can’t risk losing that by leeching off of you forever, y’know? A-anyway, I saw that figure you’ve been eyeing from those ads, the really expensive one from that series you like? There’s that one gas station around the corner I used to go to that has an ATM, please don’t be mad, technically it’s bank money anyway and the government has plenty so I’m not really stealing from the gas station! I’m testing out my powers today. I’m getting the money for your figure today to surprise you with it! Wait- shit, it’s not a surprise if I’m telling you- oh god I’m rambling again, is there a way to delete this voicemail?! Hold on, wait-” Click.

Staring at your screen, you were unable to process the different emotions running your brain. You clicked the second voicemail.

“P.S., I love you Y/N~. I’ll talk to you later.”

You were left trying to decide whether to find the nearest bathroom before your coworkers caught you crying at the heartfelt message, frown at the idea of him still feeling as though he owes you when he, in fact doesn’t, or panicking when you realize that your boyfriend was about to attempt to rob a gas station for your sake. You chose the latter.

Jumping out of your seat, you went into a frenzy grabbing as many of your important belongings as you could and shoving them into a bag before you made a beeline for the doors and rushed out of your office, ignoring the concerned call outs from your coworkers asking where you were going and wondering whether or not you were going to finish your work for the day.

Alchemax became the least of your concerns, sending your manager a quick text letting her know you were leaving early on the account of an emergency as you raced down the speed walking faster than you probably ever had in his life.

‘Had he already left? What was he thinking?!’

Now it was your turn to spam him with call after call, silently begging the universe to make him pick up but to no avail.

Suddenly your apartment seemed 10 times farther than it normally did during your walks home from work despite your rush, managing to bump into multiple people as you pushed your way through the crowds, which was met by curses shouted at you, complaints, and a few threats that you could only hope would be tamed by the quick apologies you shouted in return.

You were probably mid journey home when your run came to a screeching halt as the tv stationed outside of a pawn shop caught your news. Spider-Man’s latest fight was being broadcasting through the few clips reporters were able to catch during the escapade, showing the many damages left behind and from the chaotic battle, but it wasn’t the iconic vigilante that caught your attention, it was the headline.

“Spider-Man’s latest battle against a new foe, ‘The Spot’, causes city-wide destruction! Who is this new villain on the streets and what’s his motive?”

Your mind seemed to pull you back to just minutes earlier when you were sitting in the lab, reading his messages.

“What do you think of the name, ‘The Spot’? That sounds menacing enough, right?”

Not only was Johnathan an idiot for trying to rob a gas station, he was stupid enough to get caught by Spider-Man!

If not for your unconditional love your your boyfriend and knowledge that he was once a brilliant scientist, you would’ve questioned how you ended up with such a clumsy fool.

This was further confirmed when you returned to racing to your apartment, only for your attention to be grabbed as a familiar black hole opened up above the street and citizens gasped as they caught sight of Spider-Man falling through the hole, followed up by the current criminal, and your boyfriend. His lack of facial features would argue against it, but you could swear that you made eye contact as his head turned to you and the gaping black hole where his face should be met your eyes before both men disappeared into the parallel hole that opened on the ground and it closed behind them. If looks could kill, Johnathan would be far more than six feet under.

For what felt like an eternity you stood there, the shock being enough to paralyze you and leave you glued to the sidewalk. When you snapped back into it, your palm came up to your face and you groaned in frustration, but wasted no time groveling over the situation. There was no point in trying to get home now, instead trying to figure out his location by what was being shown on the news. That was pretty hard to do, however, when he couldn’t control where the fight kept popping up in the city.

It wasn’t until a few minutes and about 50 missed calls later when the dial tone finally ceased and he picked up the phone, long after the news station seemingly lost track of the fight. You almost forgot to speak before the realization set it and you deeply inhaled.

“…before you get mad-”

“JOHNATHAN OHMMS I SWEAR TO GOD if you had ANY idea how much I want to strangle you right now-!”

“I know I know, I’m sorry, look-!”

“A gas station? ARE YOU INSANE?! You know better than this! How could you be so reckless! What were you thinking?!”

“-I wasn’t planning on getting caught-”

“And fighting Spider-Man?! You could’ve gone to jail, you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse! What was I going to do then?!”

“I get it! I’m sorry, I swear! It was a bad idea I screwed up, I’ve never robbed anyone before-”

“I’d hope not!”

Taking a second, you lowered your voice and ducked into an empty looking alley so no one could hear your fussing, pinching the bridge of your nose and forcing yourself to calm down. Clearly he already knew he screwed up and the guilt in his voice made your heartache, you weren’t going to keep chastising him for something he regretted when he’d already suffered the consequences. Wait-

“Hold on, Johnny, where are you? And why do you sound so far from your phone?”

You heard a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line, where the portal that had his hand with his phone floated at least a good 10 feet from his face.

“Okay, funny story right? You’re going to laugh, I haven’t been arrested yet-” oh god. “But Spider-Man may have left me in a bit of a tight spot.”

You swore listening to Johnathan explain how he’d been webbed up in a multitude of his own holes thanks to the webbed hero and describing the building in hopes you’d help it out made you swear you’d grow grey hairs in that very moment, but you couldn’t focus on the absurdity when your main concern was getting your boyfriend back.

“-and now I’m sort of stuck and can touch my head with my right foot.”

“Johnny.”

“…yes, Y/N?”

“You’re very lucky I love you.”

He made a noise equivalent to a sigh that was mixed with relief and guilt.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again. We’ll talk later, I’m on my way.”

“This why I love you~”

#across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #spot x reader #spiderman atsv #atsv fanfiction

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madschiavelique · 11 months

Note

Been vomiting my intestines out all week, can't even get up due to high fever

I need big, strong, Irish-Mexican man to take care of me. Pretty please

okay i am SO sorry i took so long but going back to school happened and i got way too much work per weeks to do

but i have a little holiday week ! so i thought catching up on my old requests might be good hehe

(i didn't include vomit in there bc it's smth that triggers me as stated in my request rules but still made reader pretty sick - i am sick myself atm so YEA enjoy)

summary : miguel takes care of you when you're sick content warnings : none, pure fluff and comfort, no use of Y/N (didn't proofread but i think i kept it a gender neutral reader way ? do correct me if i'm wrong please) word count : 1,1k

You knew when you woke up that morning that work would be utterly impossible. Every joint felt like it was made of lead, your head felt like it was filled with cotton wool and your stomach was screaming at you that something was definitely wrong.

You straightened up, immediately regretting your choice as you almost fell backwards. Your head hurt like hell, your whole body felt cold and you were shaking like jelly.

Last night you'd simply fallen asleep with a little headache and a scratchy throat, but that was nothing like the pain you were feeling now.

"Miguel?" you called, your lips heavy.

You'd been tired the day before, but not that tired. You looked at the clock on your bedside table; it was early enough for Miguel to still be in the flat, unless he was out for a morning jog.

You hesitated to call him again, considering how you seemed to be having trouble swallowing your own saliva. You swallowed, wincing as you felt as if your throat had been riddled with blows from the inside.

You made a second attempt to sit up, less abruptly this time. You were thinking, wondering what you could have done in the last few days to get yourself into something so violent.

You needed a painkiller, and you needed it fast if you wanted to keep your wits about you for the rest of the day. You turned slowly, placing your feet on the ground. You felt completely frozen.

You pushed on your legs, feeling for the moment as strong as a slightly overstretched elastic band. Once you were completely up on your feet, Miguel entered the room.

As you'd expected, he'd just come back from his morning jog.

"Good morning, nena," he smiled as he opened one of his wardrobe doors, not wanting to let you near him while he was still sweating.

You were almost jealous of his energy at the moment, how was it that you were feeling so unpleasantly uncomfortable and he was frolicking around like a lionless antelope?

"Mornin'," you croaked, swallowing and wrinkling your nose at the sensation as this simple gesture made you cough a couple of times.

Your cough was slightly heavy, which obviously surprised you as much as it did Miguel. He was putting on a new pullover, his head sticking out over the collar, revealing his furrowed brow.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a few steps towards you.

"I don't know..." you tried to speak words, but it was as if you'd bitten them into pieces before spitting them out lazily.

Not at all satisfied with your answer, Miguel placed a hand on your cheek, his frown deepening as he placed his lips against your forehead.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours, easing the chill that clung to your skin.

"Cariño," he murmured, stepping back and looking into your glassy eyes, "you have a fever."

"It's all right," you mumbled as his hand, warm as tenderness, caressed your cheek with its thumb, letting your head sink into his palm as if onto a pillow.

The 'everything's fine' was more automatic than true. You knew how Miguel, despite his sometimes disinterested demeanour towards others, could become worried about you with frightening alacrity.

"When was the last time you had a day off?" he'd ask, sighing with an exasperation that sounded like 'you weren't careful were you'.

The effort of thinking about it gave you an expression as painful as if you were banging your head against a wall. So that's why you were so sick.

It's true that, come to think of it, you hadn't managed to get even a single second's respite for several weeks. You were filing paper after paper, spending the time you had when you got home wrapping up files, and the pace had given you the impression that you were gradually turning into a robot.

"Two weeks?" you suggested.

"Nena, you've been like this for over a month now," corrected Miguel.

"Fooling is my favourite thing to do," you purred, still pressing your head into his hand and closing your eyes.

"You shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard, it's not good for you," his tone was gentle, his eyebrows previously furrowed in frustration now knotted in worry.

"You're one to talk," you laughed softly, your eyes reopening to meet his gaze.

"I - yes, well," he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek. "Let's get you back into bed."

You weren't going to fight what you wanted most in the world right now, so Miguel gently helped you to lie down. It pained him to see you in such a state. No matter how many threats he fought, he couldn't stop you getting sick.

He piled the cushions behind your back to keep you comfortable, tucked you in carefully, and sat down beside you, one of his hands resting on your thigh covered by the blanket.

He stroked it with his thumb through the fabric, letting out a sigh followed by a thin smile that made him relax his shoulders.

"Tell me what you want for today, anything. Your favourite food, watch your favourite film, have me bring you anything. I'll stay with you today."

That Miguel would do you the honour of staying with you today, putting his work aside, almost made you want to cry. Whether it was joy or surprise, or both combined, you had no idea, but what was certain was that the sensations your body was sending you, which were quite pleasant, would undoubtedly be better in his presence.

"Let's start with a painkiller," Miguel suggested as he stood up and headed for your medicine cabinet, "and something to counter the fever."

"I was looking forward to living in agony for the rest of my life," you laughed to yourself as you waited for him to return.

The rest of the day was in stark contrast to everything you'd had to endure in the last month or so of relentless work. Miguel brought you food in bed, asked how your symptoms were progressing by the hour, and you watched a number of films that you enjoyed together.

He kept hugging you, softly caressing your skin, making sure you’d always finish your glass of water and wouldn’t stop for a second to be by your side.

He’d kiss your forehead, your cheeks and wouldn’t listen to you before kissing your lips. You kept telling him you didn’t want him to be this close to you for the sole reason that you didn’t want him to get sick as well. But he didn’t care, he didn’t care if he got sick, because the one who was ill as of now was you and you needed all the comfort you could get.

You couldn't have wished for a better miracle cure than Miguel's presence.

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