#he helps as much as he can to make up for the hurt he feels responsible for

[kenntolog]

Can I request something with popular bf Gojo and shy gf reader where reader is getting belittled and bullied by a group of girls and has been for a while, but doesn’t tell Gojo cause he doesn’t want her to worry, and sort of taking what they say to heart a little. Gojo notice this and eventually reader breaks down and tells him what’s going on

as soon as it starts, gojo notices something shifting in you immediately.

it’s not a visible nor a clearly sensible shift in your behaviour or appearance, yet somehow gojo is able to tell something is wrong and he is kind of proud of himself for that. yet the feeling of pride dims compared to the worry growing inside of him.

because you never tell him when something bothers you and he’s sure whatever is happening, he’s just not there to see it. you’re too embarrassed to say it to him since you don’t want him to worry, which sucks completely. it gets so bad, that satoru has to physically stop you from running away whenever he starts asking about what’s the matter, but you get overwhelmed easily and he lets go.

yet, this time he catches you right when you want to slip away; red eyes and shaking shoulders as you try to contain your sobs and run away from him so he doesn’t see, but he is quick to catch up to you in the empty hallway, caging you between his arms.

“let go, ‘toru—”

he gently tugs your hands away from your face, frowning at the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks , “no, tell me what’s wrong.”

“please, can’t we talk later?”

“no! stop running away from me!”

the way his voice cracks makes you shudder as you look up at him warily, finally realising that he’s hurt too. you stop resisting and hide yourself in his chest, sobbing violently while satoru holds you close silently. he moves around so he can slide down the wall and have you sit in his lap, arms only tightening around you.

“they…” you gaze at him through your wet eyelashes, voice a little shaky as your eyes bore into the worry splashing deeply in his, “they say mean things to me.”

“what kind of mean things?”

“all kinds of,” you mumble, eventually relaxing into his hold and letting him stroke your hair. “about my looks, my face, my stuff — just everything, y’know?”

he hums, hoping you’d continue.

“i know i should just ignore that, but then they start saying stuff about you and our relationship, and i can’t help but let it get to me? i know you love me, yet i… maybe they are right? maybe i am not good enough and you deserve more. prettier. funnier. smarter.”

you voice gets more and more quiet as you ramble about what’s been happening. and as you fiddle with your fingers, head hung low with staggered breathing, you’re unable to see how every single word you say nearly breaks satoru’s heart into a million of pieces.

“oh sweetheart.”

you look up at him, wiping the last of your tears. it seems like you’ve already come to terms with whatever the hell they were spewing at you and it makes satoru very angry. it has been going on for far too long, so long that it changed your brain chemistry and how you feel about yourself, and he hates it so so much.

“you are more than enough for me.”

you stare at him all wide eyed for a second before your face scrunches and you start crying once again, hot tears staining his hand as he wipes every single one of them. gojo cups your face gently and brings it closer to his so he can speak directly into your ear.

and he doesn’t spare any of his thoughts for you, letting you know that you’re everything he wants and he wouldn’t ask for anyone else; that you’re his favourite person in the whole world and he loves you very very much; that it hurts him that you’re hurting and are scared to tell because he’d do anything it takes to make you feel better. placing gentle kisses on your cheek since it’s so closer and he absolutely can’t resist you.

satoru doesn’t expect you to change your mind about everything in one day, but he’s ready to tell you those same words and more every single day if that’s what you need.

[thatacotargirl]

Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙

Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!

Dazelroot Daze

An Azriel x Reader imagine

Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.

"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"

You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.

"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".

You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.

"What's wrong?".

"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".

You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.

"Rhys?"

Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.

"Get Madja, now!"

Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.

"What the fuck happened?"

Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.

"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".

"The consequences?", Feyre asks.

"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".

Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.

"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.

"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".

Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.

Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.

It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.

Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.

"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.

The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.

"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.

Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.

"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".

Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?

Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.

"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".

Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".

Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.

"Will her memory come back?"

Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".

She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.

"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".

Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.

17 months later

It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.

Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.

You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.

But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.

It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.

That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.

-

Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.

Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.

"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.

"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.

"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.

Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.

"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.

He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.

"Do you need some help?".

You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.

Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.

"Azriel?", you whispered.

"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.

"No".

You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.

"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"

Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.

"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".

Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.

"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.

"Are you ok?"

You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.

You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.

"My mate", you whispered.

"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.

You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.

[lowkeyremi]

SWITCHIN' THE POSITIONS FOR YOU, COOKIN' IN THE KITCHEN !

pairing: s. gojo x fem!reader (drabble) note: i saw a poll asking who would be the worst in the kitchen and a lot of people (along with myself) voted gojo summary: satoru wants to make you dinner for a change but it goes terribly wrong for him ! content: fluff, gojo can NOT cook, established relationship (marriage), just cute stuff nothing crazy :3 wc: 783

An hour ago. That was when your husband told you not to worry about dinner, because, 'I've got it covered!' You've been married to Satoru for a long time, so you trusted his judgement. That was then, and right now you're worried because you are 100% sure something in the kitchen is burning right now.

If the groans and frustrated clanging of pots and pans weren't something to go by, then you weren't sure what was. As happy as you would have been to eat whatever burnt mess your husband made, you really didn't want the fire department to have to put out a fire in the building.

So, the only other option was to help him. He was bound to complain and tell you he can do it himself, but you won't have any of that.

"Baby? You okay?" All of the noise in the kitchen quiets when you call out for your husband.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Don't- don't come in here yet I'm not done." A loud crash sound ensues and a loud groan leaves Satoru's lips.

"I think I should come in now, yeah?" He sighs quietly. He's so let down that he nods forgetting that you can't see him before whispering a soft, "Yeah."

"What are you in here making, 'toru?" His blue eyes are just as pouty as his lips are. You find it hard to keep your own eyes on him when out of the corner of your eyes you can see something bubbling over onto the stove with a "psh" sound.

"Was making you pasta, but I burnt the noodles and now the sauce is burning." His voice holds none of his usual cheeriness, his lips hold a very deep frown, and his eyes droop down.

"Aww baby, that was really sweet of you. How about we clean this up and order takeout?" His frown deepens, if that's even possible.

"But I wanna cook you dinner," He whines quietly. Of course you're going to help him make dinner now, because he was so set on cooking for you. Satoru's never had to cook because of his family background, which is why everything in the kitchen is in the state that it's in.

An uneasy feeling washes over you when you see the amount of dishes that are in the sink and what time it is. By the time you guys finish cleaning the kitchen and buy groceries for dinner, it'll be late, but it's worth seeing a smile on his face.

"Well, let's get to cleaning if we wanna eat before midnight." His pout is immediately turned into a big, bright smile.

"Okay!!"

After much cleaning and a trip to the grocery story you and your husband are ready to cook.

"Okay, now that our hands are clean and we have everything that we need, do you mind passing me a tomato?" Without hesitating he picks up a the red fruit and slips it into your hand.

"Thank you, Honey." He smiles diligently as he watches you slice the tomato into halves.

Once he thinks he's seen you do it enough times he asks to give it a try.

"Careful 'toru. Don't cut yourself." With ease he slices through the tomato, keeping his hand away from the knife just as you had. Satoru Gojo is good at everything he does, so of course the cut is perfect.

"Look at you baby, you're a pro at this!" His ego is already pretty big, but it wouldn't hurt to let him feel some pride after his cooking disaster earlier.

While Satoru cut up the rest of the tomatoes, you started boiling the water and browning the beef. You make sure to season the meat with Italian styled seasonings such as oregano, basil, parsley, a long with the essential seasonings.

Satoru's attention is turned to you when he finishes the tomatoes. "Why didn't we just get the fresh stuff at the store instead of those seasonings?"

"Because I want to cut some prep time off. It does the same thing, don't worry too much about it. On top of that we're making homemade sauce so it'll be fine." He nods, but you're 100% sure he has no clue what any of that meant.

The pasta turned out way better this time and Satoru was so excited, "Okay okay, one more picture and then we can eat. It's just- gosh baby this looks so good. Thank you for teaching me how to make this."

It's not fair how he can easily fluster you. "Your welcome, 'toru. Now can we eat? I'm starving."

He lets out a laugh deep from his belly, "Yeah, let's eat before our hard work gets cold."

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[echoofadream]

Your favorite patient...

Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?

Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.

Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state. 

One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.

The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.

Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.

One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"

The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.

After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!

One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?

"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.

You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-

"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.

"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"

It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.

"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".

He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"

Did he just say slave?

"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.

"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .

Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.

"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".

The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.

"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .

You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?

"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"

A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.

"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"

He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.

"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."

You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.

"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."

"Please, what?"

"Please....punish me"

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[rene-darling]

TAKING- advantage of the strongest

He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.

It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.

P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]

Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!

...gojo Satoru...

Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.

Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!

It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you

"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"

"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.

The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't

You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!

He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.

He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.

Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.

His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!

" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.

Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.

Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,

But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.

Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock

But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."

"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air

Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.

His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.

You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.

[woodland-gremlin]

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 3

This post is dedicated @fanfics-or-dragons who wrote part of the post. I will put their part in bold. I would suggest checking them out, they write some really interesting stuff.

First Previous AU Summary

“Because it is!” Constantine screams, “They literally say ‘hi’ by fighting each other. Not to mention even if they don’t try to purposely hurt you they often do due to how fragile we are compared to them. Even their weakest would be a challenge to our heavy hitters!”

Constatine tried to take a deep breath to calm down. The kids were obviously alive so they obviously haven't pissed anything off too badly over there. If anything they might have gained favor with something from there. "Kids you may have not bungled whatever the hell you got up to but I seriously doubt you understand the ramifications that can happen when you form ANY type of relationship with beings so powerful you can't comprehend it."

Constatine was actually feeling like the sheer dred was fading and that he could handle this, and then Superman had to butt in to defend his kid. "The kids obviously have not been keeping us informed of their actions as much as they should have, and that will be being addressed Supernova. But they obviously have not gotten themselves into too much trouble with how you describe the beings from this realm. And you are one to talk about dangerous relationships with more powerful beings. The team has hardly had the type of relationships you tend to favor."

Which would have been annoying enough if it wasn't followed by the robin kid bursting out laughing and falling to the ground. Looking directly at Supernova, who was suddenly looking at the ground and bursting out into more laughter. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this let alone teenagers.

While Constantine was reenacting the scene from the office, Supernova and Red Robin worked on controlling their laughter.

“It was from when Batman was stuck in the time stream,” Red Robin stated through his muffled laughs.

All eyes turned to focus on Red Robin the moment those words came out of his mouth. The mood turned from slightly light hearted to sullen in a moment. Most members looked like they were sucking on a lemon, remembering how they called him crazy for thinking that Batman was alive. The look in their eyes as they agreed that he lost his mind in grief was always in the back of his mind. Reminding him to be careful with who he trusted and how small that number now was. It was why he liked rubbing it in their faces that he was right, no matter how childish the action was.

“The time stream,” Red Robin continued getting up from the floor, “is a part of the realms. Batman being there was causing them a bunch of problems so they were pretty happy to hand him over after we fixed the problems his presence caused.”

“Yeah,” Supernova chimed in, “and one of their citizens that was fixing the disturbances in the time stream talked about the rules and how Batman was breaking them while they helped us hold up our part of the deal.”

Which was partly true. It was mostly Danny complaining about how much trouble the Justice League causes him and with mentions of laws he needs to study up for his coronation. Apparently every new King throws out the previous ruler’s laws and makes new ones. He decided he would instead use old laws as a framework and make them fairer. They spent a lot of time with him working on them so they have the best understanding of the laws now that their boyfriend is King.

Even without mentioning that Constantine turned from his calmer state into looking half-dead again.

“So let me get this straight,” the con man said while he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “For fixing the disturbances in the time stream that Batman caused, they returned him?”

“Yeah.” “Basically.”

“And you never thought to mention that to anyone?!”

To be continued . . .

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[monster-disaster]

could you do a possessive werewolf x shy reader headcanons about their sex and love Life?

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who knows he has to have you even before he knows your name.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who uses tactics and tricks to get close to you. Not in a mean or manipulating way, more like... he really has to work to get to know you. He actively has to search for topics you feel enthusiastic about and work from there carefully to make you talk about more private things of your life and not just about your favorite books or movies. (Of course, it doesn't mean he doesn't love the way you forget about yourself when you talk about a book you recently read and loved.)

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who wants you to be comfortable around him but still loves how flustered you get because of his shameless flirtings.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who starts with small things. His touches are slow and short at first, caressing your heated cheeks, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your neck to feel your pulse under his fingertip, resting his arm on your shoulders or around your waist just for a moment. He stares into your eyes while praising you, telling you how pretty you are while you struggle to say something. Anything.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who becomes your safety net. He pushes your boundaries but still protects them from the others. He eases himself into your comfort zone.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who gets jealous when someone shows too much interest in you. He is not afraid to glare at the others while pulling you onto his lap for a searing kiss. You don't notice any of this, though. You are too busy with the memory of his lips burning on yours. And if it's not enough, your werewolf has enough time to talk to the other males while you are busy with something else.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who uses his own scent to show his claim on you. He caresses your neck, the soft spot under your ear after you come home, and you smell like the city. He hugs you close, letting your clothes absorb his smell. He scowls every time you take a shower and wash off his scent, especially after sex. It just urges him to fuck you again, but he isn't complaining. And neither are you.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who is clearly the dominant one in the relationship. You and your well-being are his priority. He comforts you, helps you, and protects you. Because of your shyness, people often think you are naive or stupid, but your werewolf boyfriend knows better, and he makes sure you know better than that, too. He is ready to tear apart anyone who hurts you. You hate confrontation, but he has no problem with standing up for you or helping you while you fight your battles.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who spoils you as much as he can. He treats you like a princess because there is no way he would let another man do that and take you away from him. He makes sure there is nobody better for you than him.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who starts slow and careful in bed. At the beginning of your relationship, he is more busy with getting to know your body and your reactions than with his own pleasure. He enjoys seeing the arousal and need in your unfocused eyes, the sight of your open lips as you moan his name while your body trembles with pleasure. And the fact that he is the cause of all this makes him feral.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who shows you new, exciting things in bed but always makes sure that you are comfortable with anything he comes up with. Lots of communication and maybe even a safeword because he can be wild, especially during his rut.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who takes control in bed most of the time because he knows you need his lead to be comfortable and feel safe with him.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who fucks you until you see stars.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who loves being above you, watching your face contort with pleasure or seeing your back arch as he holds onto your hips while thrusting into you. By the time he is done with you, you smell like him through and through, and it urges him for a second, a third, and a fourth round.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who lets you take control every now and again just to see you struggle and hear you beg for him to give you what you need.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who loves having sex with you in front of the mirror. You get excited and flustered when he makes you look in the mirror while his cock disappears in your wet pussy. And he goes insane when he sees his own hands on your body, groping your tits, rubbing your clit, or holding your neck to keep your back against his chest while bouncing you on his erection.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who knots you, keeping his cock deep inside your warmth while your wet walls tighten around him as you reach your climax.

Possessive!werewolf boyfriend who takes care of you after sex. He brings you snacks and water. He bathes you (just to scent you immediately afterward), and keeps you in his arms the whole night, caressing your sore muscles while whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep on his chest.

And a possessive!werewolf boyfriend who puts a ring on your finger after one year.

[chaiifluuf]

Heart to heart — d. osamu

synopsis. seeing your boyfriend’s ex makes you question if you really are enough for him

content. fem!reader, ada!reader, hurt/comfort, has a made-up character

notes. a request written here ! @hyunorue, @walnutnut since you wanted to be tagged, i adjusted a few things but hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

“‘samu, we just had a lunch break..” 

you mention softly as you let him lead you out of the agency office. of course dazai wants to ditch work with you once again despite all your efforts to make him do the opposite. often you don’t go along with his antics since you actually value the paperwork and don’t want to stress kunikida even further. unfortunately, today was one of those days where dazai wins.

“so? we were still working then and have every right to get a break now!” dazai tells you as if there is no problem with what he said. you raise an eyebrow and stare at him sceptically. “more like i was the one working, you just pouted and sat next to me because i wasn’t focusing on you.” you point out while both of you walk down the stairs.

“how cruel, bella! i did write on my report,” he says dramatically, holding his free hand to his chest when the other hand is still intertwined with yours. “i saw you add exactly five words.” you respond bluntly as you remember your gaze flickering to his laptop to see what he was doing from before. dazai gives you a fake offended look before opening the door for you to exit.

the cafe right below the agency was the go-to place to take a break or even have lunch. and today was no different. two of you sit down at one of the tables and order your usual. you still weren’t at ease though. “you know if kunikida happened to be at the office currently then we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” 

dazai hummed indifferently, taking your hand in his again as he rubbed gentle circles on the back of it. a warm smile tugged at his lips. “kunikida this and kunikida that but how about you relax? don’t worry, i’ll just—”

he abruptly stopped speaking when he looked behind you towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the doorbell ringing filling the space. you feel confused and decide to call his name, but to no avail. before you can even turn around a woman’s voice can be heard throughout the room.

“oh my god! is that you, dazai?” she gasps and you saw the way his body stiffened. almost right away you can tell something is wrong. the woman walks up to the table you were sitting at, an amused grin on her face. you can’t help but wonder who she is. dazai has never mentioned knowing other women besides you and some others at the agency. what is going on?

“why long time no see! you do remember me right?” she says to him with an upbeat tone, her gaze shifting to you afterwards. the moment she did you realised something. she looked pretty. stunning even, her golden wavy hair fitting so well with her hazel eyes. while her expression seemed friendly, as soon as she looked at you, you felt somewhat uncomfortable. you felt as if she judged your whole being right now.

“i do, yuna. what are you doing here?” dazai’s voice was much colder in comparison to talking to you earlier. okay so dazai does know her. then she has to be someone from his past. someone he has never told you about. perhaps a friend, a relative or a… oh.  

yuna merely hums in response. “this cafe is a public place, no? just wanted to get a coffee but ran into you instead. how have you been?” she asks dazai, mostly ignoring you and it makes you feel like you’re not supposed to be here. your suspicions about who she is make this even worse. 

dazai sighs rather heavily. “now is not the time. seriously.” it’s obvious that he is trying to get her to leave but yuna doesn’t seem to get the hint. “woah you’re so tense, i mean no harm…” she says with a softer tone despite the playful smile growing on her lips, calmly bringing her hand to dazai’s shoulder as if i wasn’t even there. it’s becoming harder to not get annoyed because who does she think she is? 

your lips form into a thin line as you watch her get dangerously comfortable around him. you were about to give yuna a piece of your mind but dazai already got ahead of you. without hesitation, he pries her hand off his shoulder and she’s surprised by his action. 

“yuna, this is your last warning. i need you to stop acting like we’re anything more than strangers and respectfully, get the fuck out of here.” he spoke with a stern tone and looked into her eyes the entire time. you’re definitely not used to seeing him get genuinely mad at someone. 

small shock crosses her face and she seems taken aback by his sudden words. a moment of tense silence passes before yuna scoffs. “fine, be like that then. have fun with your new little girlfriend,” she says mockingly, her friendly tone long gone and you were not ready for the look she gave you. it was full of loathing and bitterness, like you were far beneath her.

and now you want to sink six feet underground. you hate how much she managed to affect you and you pray that she can’t tell from your expression. you shouldn’t even care what she thinks of you but assuming that she had some type of relationship with dazai before, you can’t help but feel out of place.

yuna finally leaves the place and dazai’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “i’m so sorry that you had to witness this,” he says with a sigh, “are you okay?” you can see it in his gaze that he is really apologetic and you don’t how to feel anymore. all of this could’ve been avoided if you just stayed at the agency.

“yeah, i’m fine. was that your ex?” you ask, ignoring the stirring emotions in your chest. dazai seems to think a little before answering. “not exactly. i haven’t talked to her in years now. i thought she moved away… but it doesn’t matter. let’s just focus on us, yeah?” 

you still had so many questions but you simply nod and take a sip of your drink. a worried glint remains in his eyes but you decide to ignore it and act like you’re okay with everything that happened. 

because you’re anything but okay.

yosano keeps giving you strange looks as you look through some files. you try to focus on work but the cafe incident won’t leave your mind no matter how hard you try. she can probably tell something is wrong. she’s a doctor after all. 

“y/n, did something happen?” yosano speaks up calmly while she sits on her office chair. you shift your gaze from the paper to her and blink in surprise. “ah, no. why are you asking?” you respond, trying to seem clueless.

“you’ve been staring at the same page for over five minutes now and i know for a fact you’re not that slow of a reader. your thoughts are elsewhere.” okay maybe it was more obvious than you anticipated. you know there’s no use to denying her at this point. with a defeated sigh, you sit down on a chair near her desk.

“it’s kind of stupid.” you’re still a little hesitant about this because while you and her got along well, you haven’t opened up about your problems to her before. her face softens slightly as she leans back on her chair. “surely it’s not if it has you acting this odd.”

a minute of silence passes before you start talking. “well me and osamu went on a break to the cafe and then this woman appeared out of nowhere, someone who he knew in the past and…” you pause, gathering your words, “after a tense conversation she finally leaves us alone. even if she did try to look friendly at first, i could tell she did not like me.”

“so it was jealousy or something?” yosano guessed, listening intently and you sigh again in return. “i don’t know. i asked osamu about her too and i didn’t really get any answers,” you say as you think about it. why did he barely tell you anything? is he hiding something? god you’re starting to overthink again.

yosano notices your troubled expression and decides to slowly move a little closer to you with her chair. “listen, let me ask you this—how did he react when she started talking to him?” she asks while looking into your eyes. 

“very irritated, in a way that I rarely see.” that’s true, there was a genuine glimpse of anger in his irises, it was surprising even to you. yosano nods and seems to think for a moment before speaking.

“do you trust him?”

you’re slightly caught off guard by the question. of course you trust him. through all the missions you have gone on with him, he always makes your safety the top priority and you know that you can trust him with your life. 

without thinking twice you nod in response and a small smile appears on her face. “then i’m sure you don’t need to get too concerned. plus from what i’ve seen, he loves and cares about you more than anything else.” she tells you with a warm tone.

her words manage to somewhat ease you because she must be right. you love him dearly and he feels the same. and that’s what is important. yeah, you can’t forget that. you give yosano a grateful look. “you’re right, thank you.”

the confidence you had a few hours ago is long gone. you don’t know how long you have been sitting on your bedroom floor alone, stuck in your thoughts. you left the agency a while ago, telling dazai you were going to a case related place so he wouldn’t get suspicious. in reality you couldn’t understand yourself. why are you so upset? even yosano assured you that there’s no need to worry.

everything was fine before going to the cafe and having that encounter with her but it shouldn't matter because it’s plain to see that dazai doesn’t care about her nor like her anymore. it’s not like he’s cheating on you which you know he would never do. but you do wonder how they met, you wonder if they were actually together and on top of all, you wonder what happened between them. 

because despite her cold behaviour, she was gorgeous to say the least. and maybe if you got along with her then she would have a nicer personality as well. honestly yuna seemed like everything you’re not. it makes you doubt yourself. just what does dazai see in you? you have heard his flowery and flattering comments more than you can count but what if he doesn’t mean them?

it’s such a silly thought but you can’t stop pondering over it. you’re so much in your head that you didn’t even notice to hear the soft creak of the door opening.

“love?”

your breath falters. you know that voice all too well. you can’t find it in yourself to answer, keeping your face buried in your arms as your knees are pressed to your chest. you hear him moving and you can tell he’s closer to you now.

“what’s wrong?” dazai asks gently and you can’t help but feel embarrassed since you are not sure how to answer. you wish you could act like you’re fine.

you stay quiet and after a moment he speaks up again. “yosano told me some stuff regarding you,” he says and now you really have no chance of hiding anything. it never crossed your mind that she might tell him. he knows why you are like this and you hate that.

“osamu, why are you with me?” your voice is more unstable than you would’ve liked. you raise your head and see that he’s sitting right beside you on the floor. his gaze goes softer and more concerned when you look at him. you then realise your cheeks are wet.

“why? because i love you of course,” he says so easily, a tender smile adorning his lips. you remain doubtful. “then will you tell me who she was? was yuna really not your ex?” you question him as you can feel your throat getting tighter, desperate for answers.

dazai’s smile fades and he lets out a quiet sigh. “me and her were friends with benefits at best. sometimes i could tell she wanted to be more than that but unbeknownst to her, i was aware of all the other boys she was hanging out with. we had an argument over it and i ended everything with her on the spot.”

you stare at him for a few seconds as you process his words. he is not lying, you can tell that much. you suck in a breath as your vision grows slightly blurry. “i just don’t get it. she was so pretty, osamu. out of all people you chose me when i’m barely anything in comparison to her. i—“ your voice cracks as you try to stop your tears. you have never seen yourself the way he does and at times it scares you because what if one day he will see you exactly like you see yourself?

you avoid his gaze and the fact he hasn’t said a single word makes you want to cry more. he brings his hand to your cheek and slowly guides you back to face him. what greeted you instead of pity was a warm smile and eyes full of fondness.

“my dear, are you hearing yourself right now? without any exaggeration, you’re the most breathtaking woman i have ever met inside and out. i would never love someone so much based off only their appearance. and do you know what makes you so precious?” 

you sniffle as your gaze is connected to his. you can’t help but lean into his touch while his hand cradles the side of your face. “what.?” you ask.

“you make me feel human. you make life worth living and i couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my days with you.” his tone is filled with tenderness and sincerity. it almost makes you question whether you’re dreaming but his touch wouldn’t feel so real and soothing in any of them. 

and then you smile lightly. you really were overthinking it. as relief washes over you, your body moves on its own and your wrap around his waist, hugging him tightly. dazai returns the gesture and places a kiss on your head, softly rubbing your back. tears were still escaping your eyes but this time it wasn’t out of sadness. 

he suddenly seems to remember something and whispers into your ear. “oh and there are some flowers waiting on the table for you.”

my writing is so weird in this i’m sorry (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

[lexisecretaccx]

Is it gonna hurt? - C.S

Masterlist!

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, fluff, mentions of blood and piercings and needles!, suggestive, not proofread!)

Summary: Chris’ girlfriend is great at piercings, frequently giving herself and friends some, but after Chris watches her he wants one too…

“Don’t hurt yourself please ma..” Chris pleads, nervously watching as I clamp my eyebrow. “I’ve done this so many times Chris I know what I’m doing.” I chuckle lightly.

I take a deep breath in as I hold the needle ready to pierce, I can see Chris squirming anxiously on the seat next to me. We’re in my office, which is basically a piercing place for me and my friends, I have all the professional stuff. I quickly push the needle through my brow and breathe out during it. Chris yelps lightly.

“You okay?” He gets up and walks to me, “yes baby I’m good, just let me put the piercing in first.” I smile at him. I put the piercing in and screw the ball back on. I sigh with relief and grab a disinfectant wipe from the desk.

I start to clean up the light blood around my fresh piercing. “Is it supposed to bleed??” He asks frantically and all I can do is laugh at his concern, “it can bleed sometimes yes, I’m okay it doesn’t feel like anything.” I make sure the piercing is secure and I remove the gloves before cleaning my supplies.

“You look sexy mama.” Chris’ arms link around my waist, his head rests on my shoulder as he peppers kisses on my collarbone. “It’s actually super hot.” I say as I look in the mirror.

Chris’ arms let go of me and I hear a shuffle on the armchair. I turn around to see Chris sat there grinning like a child. “What?” I laugh, “me next.” He points at his eyebrow. “You want me to stick a needle through your eyebrow?” I smirk, and Chris’ grin slightly fades. “Is it gonna hurt?” He asks slightly nervous now.

“Well, how did you find the ear piercings, on a scale from 1-10?” I ask as I fiddle with his V.W earrings, “like a 2? I can’t remember but it didn’t hurt much.” He looks up at me with his blue eyes.

“This’ll probably be like a 3 then, but everyone’s different.” I smirk, he adjusts himself on the armchair leaning back slightly. “You’re gonna have to sit on the stool.” I point over at the professional area. “I want you to sit on my lap as you pierce my eyebrow. You’re just so hot when ur focused baby.” He flirts.

I sigh but can’t help but blush. “Fine.” I drag a mini table with all the supplies, clamps, piercings, wipes, etc. over to us. I straddle his lap so we’re face to face, “don’t make this weird, I need to make sure I don’t do it wrong.” I speak strictly and Chris’ eyes widen before he smirks.

“Okay boss.” He grips my waist, I look down. “What’re you doing?” I ask in a stern voice. “Making sure you don’t fall.” He spoke innocently.. “okay..” I laugh lightly.

“This might hurt more than the piercing.. the clamp it likes squeezes ur skin.” I smirk as he nods like a puppy, following my every instruction without breaking eye contact. I clamp the skin by his eyebrow making sure it’s in the right place, “you okay?” I ask gently, “yeah.” He whispers. I kiss his cheek gently before grabbing the needle.

His face drops.. “that’s going in my eyebrow?” He asks in a shocked tone. I smile softly, “do you trust me baby?” I tilt my head, “of course I do ma, you know that.” He smiles, I grip his chin and move his face to the side slightly, I readjust my position earning a groan from him, making me smirk. “Breathe in.” I say, holding the needle above the clamp. Chris inhales.

“Breathe out.” I instruct and as he does I push the piercing through his eyebrow, he flinches lightly. “You’re okay Chris.” I reassure him, “you did it!” I chuckle and his eyes light up, “let me just put the piercing in.” I poke my tongue out in concentration.

“Done!” I smile and wipe the piercing, “oh my god I love you.” He tries to hug me, “wait baby, I don’t want you to catch it.” His face drops, “I can’t even hug you now?” He says sadly, “yeah we can hug but I’m nervous for it to get caught in my hair.” I smile before leaning my head into his shoulder and hugging him, “this is safer for your eyebrow.” I chuckle softly.

He plays with my hair, “we got matching eyebrow piercings now.” He says happily. “I love you.” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you wanna see it?” I pull away from him.

“Yeah ofc ma.” I get off of his lap, ignoring the light bulge in his pants which he can’t control, but smirking to myself because that’s the effect I have on him. He stands up too. We walk over to the mirror and he smiles widely. “This is sick! Oh my god baby.” He turns to me and pulls me into a kiss.

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, my ring doorbell goes off interrupting the kiss.

“What the fuck.” Chris complains, I check my phone and see Matt and Nick at my door, probably picking us up to get food. Nicks putting his face in the camera which makes me laugh to myself.

“Come on, Christopher.” I joke as I pull him to the door and we walk down the stairs. As I open the door, Nick gasps. “Your eyebrow! CHRIS’ EYEBROW?” He speaks loudly. “I pierced mine and Chris wanted one too.” I laugh. “I’m surprised he didn’t pussy out of it.” Matt smirks but Chris pushes him, “he was fine.” I smile.

“You guys coming?” Nick calls as he walks to the car. “Coming.” We all say back, Chris puts his arm around my waist as we walk to the car. He gets in the passenger seat and I sit behind him next to Nick.

“You need to pierce Nicks bellybutton y/n.” Matt laughs as he starts driving, Nick gasps in fear. “No. You should pierce Matts mouth shut.” I just laugh. “Don’t take advantage of my girlfriend’s piercing skills please.” Chris chuckles. “I’m gonna start charging people for piercings.” We all laugh and Chris connects his phone to aux and starts blasting random music.

Matt gets angry and turns off the aux system. “What the fuck?” Chris complains, “Chris baby, what the fuck was that?” I ask, stifling a laugh. “Music.” He defends himself. Nick starts laughing bonelessly. “What?!” Chris asks loudly. “If that’s music then I’m married to Abe Lincoln.” Everyone except Chris laughs.

“You wish you could marry Abe Lincoln.” Chris pouts. “Yeah I do.” Nick smiles.

A/n: this was a little oneshot because I love one shots🤭 Chris with an eyebrow piercing😍😫 anyways love y’all!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi

[pinkflower2003]

Can you do an imagine where reader is heavily pregnant and overdue. She’s grumpy and sore and just overall not feeling too good so (driver your choice) comforts her and tells her how amzing she is? 😩

Overdue Love - Lando Norris x Reader

a/n: Thank you so much for your request my love!!🍓 I loved working on this one, such a cute idea! I have no idea why I wrote for Lando, but I thought he would be such a good girldad <3

Send in your requests!

Masterlist

Y/N sat on the couch, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to find a position that didn’t make her sore back ache. She was heavily pregnant, overdue by a week, and every minute felt like an eternity. Her swollen belly seemed to defy gravity, and the heat of the afternoon didn't help. She sighed deeply, glancing at the clock and wondering if this baby would ever decide to make an appearance.

Lando, her loving and supportive partner, walked into the living room with a gentle smile. He had just finished a video call with his team, but his thoughts were entirely with Y/N. Seeing her discomfort, he immediately came to her side, his concern evident in his eyes.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Y/N sighed again, leaning into his embrace. “I feel like a beached whale, Lando. Everything hurts, and I’m so ready for this baby to come out.”

Lando chuckled lightly, his fingers brushing through her hair soothingly. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I can’t imagine how tough this is, but you’re handling it like a champion. Our little girl is just taking her time, getting ready to meet the most incredible mom.”

Despite her grumpiness, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even in the most uncomfortable situations. She placed a hand on her belly, feeling the baby’s gentle kicks.

“She’s already got a sense of drama, just like her dad,” Y/N teased, looking up at Lando with affection.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Well, she does have a flair for the dramatic. But she’s also got the best parts of you. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Y/N tried to shift again, her face contorting with discomfort. “I can’t find a position that doesn’t make me feel like I’m being crushed.”

Lando got up and fetched a couple of pillows, arranging them around her to provide some support. “Here, try these. Maybe it will help a bit.”

As Y/N settled into the new arrangement, she sighed with a bit more relief. “That’s better, thank you.”

“You know,” Lando began, sitting back down beside her, “I’ve been thinking about how strong you’ve been through all of this. The morning sickness, the cravings, the sleepless nights… You’ve handled everything so well.”

Y/N laughed lightly, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “I don’t know if I’d call it handling it well. More like surviving.”

“Well, to me, you’ve been amazing. I’m in awe of you every day,” he said sincerely, his eyes shining with admiration.

Hours passed with Lando staying by Y/N’s side, making sure she was as comfortable as possible. They watched movies, reminisced about the past, and talked about their hopes and dreams for their little family. Despite the discomfort, Y/N felt grateful for Lando’s unwavering support and love.

As evening turned into night, Y/N began to feel the first twinges of contractions. At first, she brushed them off as more Braxton Hicks, the false labour pains she’d been experiencing on and off for weeks. But as the contractions grew stronger and more regular, she knew it was finally time.

“Lando,” she called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and nervousness. “I think it’s happening.”

Lando’s eyes widened, and he immediately sprang into action. “Alright, let’s get everything ready.” He had been preparing for this moment for months, and his excitement and nervousness were palpable.

They grabbed the hospital bag, which had been packed and ready for weeks, and headed to the car. Lando drove carefully but quickly, glancing over at Y/N every few seconds to make sure she was okay.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching over to hold her hand.

Y/N winced as another contraction hit. “It’s intense, but I’m okay. Just keep driving.”

They arrived at the hospital, and the staff quickly ushered them into a room. Lando stayed by Y/N’s side the entire time, holding her hand, encouraging her, and reminding her to breathe. The hours of labour were gruelling, filled with moments of pain and anticipation.

Y/N squeezed Lando’s hand tightly as another contraction rippled through her body. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” she admitted, tears streaming down her face.

Lando wiped her tears away gently, his own eyes glistening with emotion. “You’re doing great, love. Just a little longer, and we’ll have our baby girl in our arms.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on Lando’s soothing voice. He talked to her about their future, about the first time they’d bring Poppy home, about all the things they would do together as a family. His words were a lifeline, helping her push through the pain.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the moment arrived. With one final, powerful push, their daughter entered the world. The room filled with the sound of her first cries, and Y/N collapsed back against the bed, exhausted but overwhelmed with joy.

“She’s here,” Lando whispered, tears of happiness streaming down his face. “Our little Poppy.”

The nurse placed the tiny, squirming baby on Y/N’s chest, and she looked down at her daughter with a mixture of awe and love. “Hi, Poppy,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Welcome to the world.”

Lando leaned in, kissing Y/N’s sweaty forehead and then the baby’s tiny head. “You did it, Y/N. You were amazing.”

Y/N looked at Lando, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. “We did it,” she corrected him, her voice filled with emotion.

The next few days were a blur of feedings, diaper changes, and sleepless nights, but through it all, Lando and Y/N were a team. They took turns holding and comforting Poppy, marvelling at every little coo and movement she made.

One night, as they sat together on the couch with Poppy sleeping soundly in Lando’s arms, Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe she’s finally here,” she said softly.

Lando smiled, looking down at their daughter with a tender expression. “She’s perfect, just like her mummy.”

Y/N laughed lightly, though she was still tired from the labour. “I think you’re a little biased.”

“Maybe,” Lando conceded, “but it’s true. You’re amazing, and Poppy is amazing because of you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the peace and quiet. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she had never experienced before. Despite the sleepless nights and the challenges of being new parents, she knew they were incredibly lucky.

“Do you remember the first time we talked about having kids?” Lando asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, smiling at the memory. “It was on that trip to Italy, right? We were sitting by the lake, and you said you wanted a big family.”

“Yeah,” Lando said, his eyes distant as he recalled the moment. “I remember thinking how perfect it would be to raise a family with you. And now, here we are, starting that dream.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Lando. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Lando leaned over and kissed her gently. “Me neither, love. Me neither.”

As the weeks passed, they settled into a routine, learning the ins and outs of parenthood together. There were sleepless nights and moments of frustration, but there were also moments of pure joy and love. Lando continued to be a supportive and loving partner, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand.

One evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Y/N looked over at Lando, who was gently rocking Poppy to sleep. “You’re such a natural with her,” she said, admiration clear in her voice.

Lando looked up, smiling. “I’ve had a great teacher,” he said, nodding towards her. “You’re an amazing mum, Y/N.”

Y/N blushed slightly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

“The best,” Lando agreed, walking over and placing Poppy in her crib. He wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. “I’m so grateful for you, for us, and for our little Poppy.”

Y/N rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Me too, Lando. Me too.”

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley as a father

dad!simon spent endless hours building the tiny furniture and painting the nursery walls. Of course, all the equipment was picked by you, as he didn't really have a taste for those things. If he were to choose, the room would end up looking like shit.

dad!simon who smiled the whole time as you folded the new clothes and blankets, stealing some of them to feel the fuzzy material, so calming to his growing anxiety.

dad!simon dreamed of this day for so long, but couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the idea of actually being a father. The fear of turning out to be the same as his old man was disgusting, but never left his mind.

dad!simon who discussed every thought and decision with his therapist, making sure he was really prepared. Coming back after every session, he'd sit down with you and discuss everything, being so happy to feel your touch and reassuring words.

dad!simon who thinks it's a true miracle that he lived so long to carry his little kid home. Holding their tiny body in his arms, the love of his life beside him as he stepped into the house.

and now:

girldad!simon who is completely smitten with his little girl, those huge eyes staring at him as if he was some sort of angel.

girldad!simon spends his free time studying how to style her hair, different ponytails and braids, all depending on his princess's wishes

girldad!simon who lets her color in all of his tattoos, watching her trembly hands holding the newest set of body markers.

girldad!simon who teaches her how to defend herself from a very young age, starting with simple lessons on assertiveness and boundaries, through various self-defend practices.

girldad!simon who spoils her rotten, he just can't deny that pouty little face whenever he tells her no. He has his limits, but most of the time she gets all the dresses, toys, and ribbons she gets.

girldad!simon gets a tattoo of her favorite stuffed animal somewhere on his body.

girldad!simon who encourages her passions, especially when it comes to sports because that's one of the few he has any expertise on. He spends a lot of time getting to know others, so he always has topics to talk about.

girldad!simon who feels pity towards any possible love interest that might even think of hurting his little girl.

girldad!simon is often seen walking around the park, holding her hand at all times. All his scary mysteriousness disappears the moment she talks to him, Simon just turns into the sweetest parent in seconds.

girldad!simon always kneels down in front of her so she feels taller.

girldad!simon will watch any show or movie she wants, doesn't matter how 'girly' it is. Secretly enjoys Barbie movies.

girldad!simon watching her grow up and getting into make-up makes him feel very happy, but nostalgic. Reminding himself that not so long ago she was running around and playing with little bugs.

girldad!simon who always drives her around, a personal taxi driver whenever she wants to hang out with her friends.

and:

boydad!simon who focuses on making sure his boy doesn't pick the same field of work as him, no matter how much his boy idolizes him.

boydad!simon who spends most of his time with his son outside, running, playing soccer, or building him some DIY shelters around the house with branches, leaves, and stones. (my ass can't get this out of my head, such a stereotypical polish childhood)

boydad!simon who adores his boy's interest in the military, but like I said, always reminds him to pick something else. This doesn't stop him from spending hours talking about little details and stories.

boydad!simon spoils him by buying him little cars, wooden models, and sports equipment.

boydad!simon makes sure not to push his boy too much into the toxic masculinity he had to grow up with. His son can be as expressive and sensitive as he wants, there's no one to stop him.

boydad!simon who becomes his son's best friend and savior whenever he has nightmares.

boydad!simon tries to be on-trend with electronic devices, spending lots of time to learn how to play his son's favorite video games whenever the little one is asleep, so he can help him if he struggles with a mission/achievement.

boydad!simon who has to make sure his son is a responsible person, giving him adequate punishments so he doesn't think there are no consequences to his actions.

boydad!simon studies dinosaurs just because his son finds them oh so cool. After reading some articles, he finds himself fascinated with them too, sharing all the facts and sources for them.

overall:

dad!simon would do anything to keep his child safe. He'd let the world burn if it meant his little one was the happiest kid on the planet.

dad!simon gets anxious if his kids don't answer him immediately, so he made sure their phones have their locations turned on all the time.

dad!simon doesn't argue with you around the kids, any serious discussion is only between the two of you, so in case emotions take over they never witness it.

dad!simon thinks it's crucial to show up, so he rushes from his deployment to make it to his child's school play or graduation, just to be able to support them.

dad!simon encourages his kids to go and see a psychologist, even if they don't struggle with much. He understands that there are just things important to talk about, but the kid might not want to open up in front of their parents about everything.

dad!simon turned out to be the father his old man could never be. In his kids' eyes, he's a true hero and the best dad they could have.

masterlist | request info

[literallyspiderwoman]

“Dad are you really this afraid of me?!”

There were a LOT of lines in ATSV that stuck out to me, but this specific one hit me right in the feels.

First of all the way Gwen says it, her tone, the pain and emotion in her voice, her expression, EVERYTHING leading up to this one simple question is heartbreaking. Especially when you consider why she’s even asking this in the first place.

I want to point out that right after Gwen took her mask off, the background colors change from dark red to much less threatening colors, much softer if I might add. This basically signifies George’s POV.

Gwen had just revealed her identity as Spider-Woman to her dad, who’s now in complete shock. He believes Spider-Woman is a murderer and the one responsible for Peter’s death, so now that his own daughter comes out and tells him that she is in fact Spider-Woman, he jumps to the conclusion that “Spider-Woman is a murderer who killed Peter so that must mean that’s all true about my daughter.” instead of “Ah, my daughter is sweet so there’s no way those things about Spider-Woman are true!”. Now when I first watched this scene, I was like “Huh?”, because Gwen could’ve said ANYTHING else to her dad. She could’ve been like “Why are you doing this?!”, or she could’ve gotten angry at him. Gwen is WAY stronger than George, if he decided to shoot her, she would have been able to easily dodge that bullet. She could seriously hurt George if she wanted to and she knows it, but when George started reading Gwen her Miranda Rights, Gwen wasn’t angry, she was heartbroken, and you can see the change in her expression.

At first, she looks upset, fearful, and worried. Then, she looks hopeful. Hopeful that her dad will hear what she has to say, hopeful that her dad will understand her and trust her when she tells him that she isn’t a murderer, but he doesn’t. THATS when Gwen’s expression shifts from hopefulness to disbelief and heartbreak. “You’re in this to help people right? Well so am I”, Gwen was trying to convince her dad that she was on his side, that she didn’t kill Peter, that she isn’t what he thinks she is, but George doesn’t listen. Gwen thought that by telling her dad “You’re all I have left”, that that’d make him listen, but it didn’t.

You can hear the utter shock and disbelief in Gwen’s voice when her dad actually starts reading her rights, and you can hear how scared and distraught George is too, but there’s a hint of remorse in his voice. He sounds like he doesn’t want to do this. He sounds like he’s in pain, and well- he is. He’s arresting his own daughter.

Just put yourself in Gwen’s position for a second. She just revealed her biggest secret to her dad, and the reason she hid it from him for so long was because she was terrified of the thought that he would attempt to arrest her, and he DOES. He chooses to be a ‘good’ cop over being a dad. Imagine your own father, your own flesh and blood, and the person who gave you life, is absolutely terrified of you to the point where he almost aims a gun at you out of pure fear. But George doesn’t see his own child, he sees a monster. The same monster that murdered his daughter’s best friend. He quite literally can’t see his daughter in front of him, he just sees Spider-Woman.

“How long have you been lying to me?” Is the only question George asks Gwen throughout this entire scene. He asked this as a father, not as a cop. He was absolutely distraught and the only thoughts going through his mind were “No, this can’t be true…” and “How could my girl, my sweet girl…” (Actual line from the script btw). Another line that sort of stood out to me was “Can you just not be a cop for a second and be my dad here?”, Gwen didn’t feel like she was speaking to her dad, she felt like she was facing down a cop. George has been treating Gwen like a criminal this whole interaction. “Do you really think I’m a murderer?” Gwen asked this because could not BELIEVE that her dad actually thought that of her. The whole reason Gwen removed her mask in the first place was out of fear that her dad would actually shoot her, he already fired a warning shot, so why wouldn’t he just go ahead and pull the trigger?

Something I noticed earlier is how Gwen’s spider senses went off when her dad approached her. Spider senses ONLY go off when there’s a threat nearby, so this pretty much means Gwen saw her dad as a threat to her life :(

Also taking note of the fact that Gwen is his daughter, 16 years old- and like 5’4, but George is STILL powerless against her. His only option is to get her to surrender. Gwen and George kinda switched places throughout this scene. At first, Gwen is terrified of George, and then by the end it’s the other way around.

Gwen tries her hardest to plead with George, she kept her arms up in a defenseless position the whole time to show her dad that she won’t hurt him, but he can’t even look at her. This is something I took note of when watching ATSV; While George is reading Gwen her Miranda Rights, he can’t bring himself to look at her. He just stares at the ground, with a disappointed expression on his face. A face of pain. There’s a clear difference when George first says “You have the right to remain silent”, and the second time he says it. It’s like he doesn’t want to do it.

Now, I do hate George and I think he did a LOT wrong in this movie, but just look at his face for a second. Does that look like the the face of a man who is happy with what he’s doing? No. That’s a face of regret and guilt. He isn’t doing this because he wants to, he’s doing this because he’s afraid. Afraid of what exactly? Well, that brings us to my next point.

So obviously Gwen is in shock right now, her own father is trying to arrest her because he believes she murdered her childhood friend. Not only is Gwen shocked but she’s also confused. She’s probably thinking “Why is he doing this?”, and she came to the conclusion that her dad was doing this out of fear. Fear of HER.

This is a major reason as to why Gwen didn’t reveal her identity to her dad for so long. She knew he wouldn’t accept her, she knew he’d be scared of her, and she was right. George isn’t doing this just because he wants to be a good cop, he’s standing in front of the ‘dangerous menace’ who killed Peter, and that dangerous menace is Gwen, his daughter. George’s immediate reaction is to arrest Gwen because like I said earlier- He can only see Spider-Woman.

Now onto what this whole analysis is about, the line Gwen utters next… Along with “You’re the best thing I’ve ever done”, and “I can’t lose one more friend”, this line BROKE me. Gwen assumed that George was doing this out of fear, which is the main reason she asked him this. She was so frustrated by the thought of her own father doing something like this to her. She hated being misunderstood to the point of being seen as a monster by the one person she considers a role model to follow, the ONE person she has left. You can hear the pain in Gwen’s voice as well as her dad’s.

You can actually hear a slight change in George’s tone after Gwen says that line. Because SHE’S RIGHT. He IS afraid of her. That’s the whole reason as to why he’s doing this. He doesn’t even respond to her, his voice slightly breaks and you can definitely tell this is really hard for him. Hearing his own daughter straight up ask him if he’s really afraid of her probably felt like a punch in the gut, that’s a question neither of them thought they’d ever have to face.

George fears Gwen because she allegedly ‘killed’ Peter, but it’s also because of her abilities. George has seen what Spider-Woman is capable of. He’s seen what she can do. That’s the reason he backed away and raised his gun at Gwen when she took a step closer to him and yelled “DAD STOP!”, he was scared of her.

Gwen was heartbroken. She was trying her HARDEST to plead with her dad just for him to try and arrest her, aim a gun at her, and yell “DONT COME ANY CLOSER!” at her when she tried to approach him. Honestly I’m surprised Gwen didn’t snap after this, let alone forgive George at all. Imagine living with the mentality that your own dad didn’t hesitate to point a gun at you while yelling at you to not come any closer, poor Gwen.

I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if Miguel and Jess hadn’t intervened. George actually had the intention of shooting Gwen, so if Miguel didn’t trap him in that box thing, George might’ve actually gone through with it, and that’s sickening to think about. The fact that he was even WILLING to aim a gun at Gwen is enough to fuck her up.

I don’t blame Gwen for wanting to join the Spider Society after this. I mean come on, her dad is terrified of her and thinks she’s a murderer, and she believes if she joins the Spider Society, she’ll finally find people who accept and understand her. No wonder she left Earth 65.

This entire scene was so heartbreaking dude I wanna cry time I watch it ☹️ The watercolors in the background as well as the voice acting from both Gwen and her dad were amazing and SO emotional, along with their expressions and the soundtrack- Ahh I could talk about this movie forever 😭 But anyways, thanks for reading my little analysis and FUCK GEORGE STACY ALL MY HOMIES HATE GEORGE STACY!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️💥💥💥💥💥🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️

[munsooooon]

Steve hates very much to be called "Steven" not even as a joke, he has not talked about it with anyone but implicitly everyone senses it in some way or another and therefore they do not call him that way, it is always Steve or Harrington or some nickname. That's because when his parents called him that it was because they were incredibly angry or drunk and therefore punished him in horrible ways, when they called him Steven he usually ended up getting beaten up. When they called him Steven in public it was enough to make him freeze and make him shiver, eventually he would be silent and terrified for the rest of the evening.

Now being older if someone calls him Steven, he immediately assumes they are fighting with him or that he did something wrong and depending on the situation or the person. He will react with sadness or anger, for example, when Tommy called him Steven, it ended in a awful fist fight. It really makes him feel very bad, in recent years sadness is what he felt the most when he hears his name, because it hurts him too much to disappoint the people he loves.

Eddie doesn't know it, but he doesn't call him Steven either, it's always a nickname or Stevie, or Steve or even Harrington. Until one night, when they were in Steve's room kissing fiercely and passionately, Steve was under him doing whatever it took to feel Eddie rubbing his skin, between gasps and accelerated breaths, every little movement Eddie made or every little touch Steve felt, he reacted effusively with his whole body shuddering, he was and felt hypersensitive, he couldn't keep still.

"Steven" Eddie whispered with softness and a beautiful smile, Steve looked at him surprised. "Stay still, I need to take your clothes off, love"

Steve loved that. It was the first time someone pronounced his name with such love. He stood for a few seconds, processing what was happening. He began to shake in anticipation of what Eddie might give him. His brain was short-circuited, and all he could think of was Eddie calling him "Steven" with that authority and that beautiful softness that only he had. He felt loved.

"Are you okay? Do you want us to stop?"

Steve took a few seconds to appreciate him, ran his face gently, because the words wouldn't come out even though they were in his throat. He was always silent when he shouldn't be but he couldn't help it.

Eddie kissed the hand that was on his face, not intending to go any further, and Steve melted once again, he wanted to speak and express loudly the pleasure the other boy was making him feel but he couldn't. Instead, he took Eddie's hand and directed it to his pants to make him feel what he had provoked, to make him understand that he didn't want to stop.

"No, I don't want to stop" Steve said as he sat on Eddie's lap. "Call me Steven again, just you, just you Eddie, call me love, baby, tell me I'm your princess and never stop"

Steve was incredibly loud that night, moving his hips against Eddie's lap, trying to fuck himself harder, deeper. He spoke his name softly and lovingly, until he began to cry, begged for more as tears flooded his face. Eddie held him tight with his arms to keep him right where he wanted him but also to keep him safe to hold him as he released a weight he seemed to be carrying for years.

Eddie couldn't utter a word, it was unbelievable. Eddie was always loud and Steve was quieter, but in the dark, in the security of their love, Steve could be whatever he wanted and could act however he wanted, so he was being loud as he wished because in Eddie's arms no one could punish him.

"You're such a good boy, don't you?" Eddie says softly.

"Yeah?" Steve asks as he chases Eddie, he moans loudly as Eddie once again hits that place on his body, his mouth stays open as he moves on Eddie, soft sounds keep coming out of his mouth, he closes his eyes, because he can feel Eddie all over his body, even though he moves slowly.

"Yeah. You're so sweet, my baby boy, I can't even explain how much I love you, princess"

Steve smiles with his eyes closed. He looked precious, his cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and somehow the tears made him incredibly beautiful.

....

Steve still hates being called that, he finally confessed it to Eddie but also gave him permission to call him that on special occasions. Plus, he told him that he would love to tell his parents what he does with the traumas they caused him. Because now every time he's called Steven it's because he's loved, because he's revered and because he's being fucked incredibly well.

Steve get his name back, Steven belonged to him and Eddie.

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Yandere Aventurine hc's

Obviously tw for toxic relationship dynamic and so on, but it's really mostly fluff tbh

It's not the moment that he lays eyes on you, nor the first time he hears your lovely voice, that sparks his interest

It's later, after a few interactions, that he's left wondering why exactly do your eyes look like that in the sunlight, why can't he help thinking about the last words you said to him, and why on earth does he want to remember how your palms feel against his...

It's annoying, a stupid little weakness that's he's really hoping fizzles out with the rest of his long lost desires

It's even more annoying when it doesn't...

He wants to be around you, to see you happy and content... Wants to be the one that causes that

He tries to appease his little crush in subtle ways

Buying you gifts, taking you out, reluctantly opening up, all hoping for a reaction that would kill that desire, just any emotion that would convince him you weren't the perfect person he's built you up to be

All for not... Every little reaction just grows his want, multiplies his need to have more of you

After fully coming to terms with that, he'll try courting you casually, playing up his charm, his nonchalance

As if his emotionally distant performance can cover the fact that he's only getting more desperate

He's lying to himself, trying to convince his own heart that he doesn't need you

That he doesn't spend every waking second imagining you right beside him, all the pretty expressions you'd make and amusing remarks that'd pull a genuine smile from his lips

It's a coping mechanism, but a poor one in comparison with really have you there

And why can't you be there...?

Texting becomes much more common

Various pictures and paragraphs meticulously detailing where he is and what he's doing, in the hopes that you might choose to show up of your own accord

Silly little good morning or good night texts played off as a joke, as if he isn't anxiously awaiting confirmation that you're still happy and well

He's always been good at reading people, a skill of his trade really, so your emotions are like an open book

Anyone you want him to be, he'll play the part flawlessly

A rich flirty playboy? An impulsive and fearless gambler? Maybe a doting attentive lover? All of those are masks he will happily adorn

You'll know something's up when the gift giving starts to get a little heavy handed

Gorgeous expensive bouquets with his calling card, very pretty jewelry (most of which includes a familiar looking green gemstone), and really a variety of other small gifts that fit in line with interests you told him about in passing

He'll claim complete ignorance to the amount, stating he's only buying what reminds him of you (which is pretty much every little thing he sees—)

And "Oh don't worry, dear friend. Consider it a token of good will! Can't have you forgetting about me.~"

He'll make himself quite a nuisance if you don't eventually give in to his little games

Though his work schedule keeps him from actively stalking you, it's not uncommon for suspicious looking IPC personal to be seen whenever you're out in public

He's just paranoid, really, that's all it is...

He couldn't live with himself if his darling went and got themself hurt

When officially together, you're probably going to spend a lot of time with him...

He'll make his office more accommodating for you! You can decorate your space however you desire, nothing is too good for his love

It generally helps his morale to have you around at work too

He's not nearly as stressed and short tempered with his beautiful perfect love always at arms length, read to be scooped up and showered in affection when he needs a break

"Oh come onnnn... It'd be so boring without you. You wouldn't leave me all alone, right...?" He coos, gently pulling you by your waist closer to him with a needy grin, eyes shining slightly as he tilts his head, pressing a soft little kiss to your wrist before glancing up at your eyes.

It's enough of a difference that the IPC might actually start giving you a paycheck under the title of "emotional support employee" simply to avoid having to deal with him when you're not around

He'll make it up to you by taking you out to fancy lunches, and dinners... and occasional breakfasts—

There's actually a good handful of days that he simply refuses to come in because he woke up with you laying on him and would physically rather die than move

His jealousy issues are a little more pronounced now, too...

He's hates having to get violent, really, but he has absolutely no qualms with calling out and publicly humiliating anybody for staring to long or being passively rude

But if anybody is being outright aggressive towards you, it's a completely different story

Don't they know who you belong to? How easily he could ruin their entire livelihood with a single phone call?

His eyes will narrow, his smile getting a little wider as his grip on you tightens, memorizing the persons face as it drops in realization, oh what a thrill~

He'll be an obsessive possessive mess, but there are worse things than being the sole focus of an attentive and devoted man...

Ignoring how he'd rather suffocate than see you smile so genuinely at anyone else with those perfect lips he just adores, of course